If you're looking for an update, you're in luck this time! :D Thanks to an awesome clzenor you now have chapter 7. Hope you enjoy.


Chapter 7: Stained

"Wanna hear a joke?"

She smiles as she lifts the plastic fork to her mouth. "Hmm, depends. What kind of joke?"

"You know me," he smirks over his egg roll.

The swing flows back and forth a few times and a gentle breeze encases them as they eat. Deep red and orange streaks flow across their bodies as they sit relaxed against the white of the swing.

Swallowing her food, she glances at him from the corner of her eye and his comment hits home for her. She should know him, and his habits, his sense of humor. She should. But instead, she decides to play with him a bit while subtly reminding him of their time apart.. "Sure, so a knock-knock joke," she teases.

Sitting his egg-roll down in the container of rice, he smirks at her, "Ha-ha," he chortles back and it's them again, she realizes.

It's easy and free and it's surreal and it's that thought that flows freely between them when he turns toward her perched form.

She sits her container down as well and gives him her full attention.

Clearing his throat, "A dog, a cat, and a penis are sitting around a camp fire one night...," he starts to say around a bite of rice. The moment so reminiscent of the times they had eaten together as partners.

She remembers when he'd been sick from the anti-HIV meds he'd been taking in their second year and how he'd lost his appetite and then one day she'd walked into the diner and seen his smile at her because he'd finally found it again.

She immediately laughs.

"Elliot."

"What? You said sure," he mocks as if offended, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Sighing she picks up her rice and takes a bite while nodding in his direction to continue. "Alright, just don't gross me out ok?"

Smirking at her, he complies. "So, there's this dog, cat and a penis."

She chuckles again. "Elliot," she puts a hand on his upper shoulder and warns him playfully, "Don't make me laugh." Her hand slips away and the warmth of his shoulder instantly fades as he glances out in front of him to the expanse of her property.

Turning back, he smiles at her and then leans back against his corner of the swing. "No promises," he says softly. "You gonna let me say it now?"

"Oh ok," she finally concedes.

"Ahem," he turns serious. "A dog, a cat, and a penis are sitting around a campfire," he chuckles under his breath. "The dog says, "My life sucks so bad, my master forces me to do my business on a hydrant..."" He peers over at her and she's grinning as she chews. "The cat says, "I don't think so, my master makes me do my stuff in a box of kitty litter.""

She stops him. "You said no gross..."

He grips the container of rice and puts it in his lap leaving her with just her plastic fork in hand and mouth full of rice and chicken. Raising his eyebrows he waits for her to chew and swallow before he continues.

She gives him a playful scowl and looks at his lap before purses her lips trying not to laugh at him. "You can continue now," she says softly. A bright smile spreads across her lips and she can't help but feel content with him sitting next to her.

They had always joked, always laughed at each other in the past, on the good days. She had savored those rare occasions. She'd liked them like that and she still does, especially in this moment. Right now it feels like before all the rough cases, victims and sleepless nights.

She watches him sigh then take a bite of her rice before continuing. "So, where was I?" he laughs.

"Hmm, something about fire hydrant's and kitty litter," she snarls.

"Ahh, yea. So after the dog, the cat goes, "My master makes me go in the litter box yadda, yadda, and then the penis comes in. The penis is outraged. He says, 'At least your master doesn't put a bag over your head and make you do pushups until you throw up...'"

She purses her lips. She won't laugh, she won't.

He squints his eyes at her and takes another bite of her chicken fried rice.

She watches him eat as she tries to hold back the laughter. She had made him stop so many times that the joke fell mostly flat, but it's still ironic. But she won't laugh, even considering the irony of the joke.

Elliot Stabler, the honorary Catholic just made a sex joke. This in turn reminds her exactly what she's missed out on with him. He's changed and it's no more apparent then in the way he freely jokes around with her.

"Don't laugh so much, Liv," he deadpans but a slow smile evolves over the container of rice dangling in front of his chin.

She playfully scowls at him but then turns serious for a moment. "First of all, where has Elliot Stabler gone?" she wonders aloud dramatically. "Who are you?" she says, a hint of smile lining her lips, "And secondly, you tell that joke to a pregnant woman?" she shakes her in mock disappointment, knowing he was trying to lighten the mood, but feeling the need to mess with him.

It's been too long being without him and he's so open that it doesn't take much.

Immediately, he sits up and reaches for her. Before he makes contact, an emotion flits across his face and it's as if he's remembering that they don't do that or even really talk like this, not right before she left at least. So he doesn't and she watches as he lets his hands drop to his lap.

"Liv, I'm sorry. That was rude," he admits solemnly.

Sitting back with her arms cradled below her abdomen, she quietly watches him as he stares out past the porch again. His face is bathed in an orange aura of sundown and as he clears his throat, she realizes she better let him know it's ok.

She reaches her hand out and tries to grab her container of rice back before he turns his head back toward her.

Smirking, she almost gets her hand on the wire handle before he stops her.

"What are yo-" He watches her face tilt upward and she's grinning.

Eyes wide and sucking in her bottom lips she scrunches her nose. He'd caught her. "Wha?" She asks as she reaches for it again and he pulls it back.

He grunts with that cocky grin. "Doesn't work that way. I think you need to tell one since I'm obviously not as funny as I'd thought."

Huffing, she lets her arms fall to her sides in mock defeat. "Dammit, Elliot. I'm hungry and I'm pregnant. Give me my food back and then we'll talk," she smiles.

Shrugging, he relents. She is pregnant and he'd never hold food back from a pregnant woman, joking or not.

"OK. You're right." He hands it back to her and picks his up, lifting it in her direction. She puts hers in between her knee and leg which are crossed like an "L" and then takes Elliot's from him.

"Hmm," she thinks. Tapping the plastic fork against her lip a few times, she looks over at him from the corner of her eye and grins. "So have you heard about the joke with Moe and Joe?"

He shakes his head innocently with a small smile on his lips and his eyes bright. This is fun and a change from who they used to be, even during the last few years of their partnership.

They'd been together for almost ten years when she'd left and before that, before the train station, they would trade dirty jokes during stakeouts every once in a while but she hadn't seem so fragile then, so delicate, not that he'd ever say that to her face.

He doesn't feel like being punched right now. He's on the highest of highs he's ever been on in his life and he doesn't want it to end anytime soon.

She looks back down at her lap and then looks over at him. "Moe says, 'It was so cold last night, I just couldn't believe it,'" she stops realizing what she's about to say to him. Her former partner. Elliot.

It feels different this time around and she feels confident about this thing going on between them right now. This rapport. It's like nothing she's ever felt before, at least not this strongly and without a cloud of doubt lingering so heavily like before.

She chews on the inside of her jaw and then looks back at him trying not to laugh. She squints her eyes and continues. "His friend Joe goes, '

Well, how cold was it?'"

Looking him in the eye, she continues as a small smirk forms over the side of his mouth and her insides flare because he's genuinely interested and waiting for the punch line and it makes her flush before speaking again.

"So, Moe answers, 'It was so cold, that I saw a lawyer with both hands in his own pockets.'"

She watches as his chest heaves slightly when he laughs. Deep silent laughs as he smiles brightly at her and she is relieved. "You know Liv that's not very nice."

She bites her bottom lip and then throws her balled up napkin at him, "You started it," she trails off.

He grins at her as he picks up the napkin and places it in between them.

All of a sudden she senses a mood shift and a silence falls between them. When his voice rings out again, she forgets about their food and the past comes flooding through her in a torrent of memories.

"You know, Casey came back after you left. I remember when she got disbarred a few months after you came back from that undercover stint at Sealview, you took it hard. I don't know how your friendship was before you left, but she always asked me about you and I thought she'd know more than I did."

The wooden swing creaks under both of their weight while a sudden calmness and fullness washes over them, especially her when she realizes that not only did she miss home but that there were people who hadn't really forgotten her. "I missed you all so very much. I didn't ... she was a great friend to me," she smiles sadly as she glances down at the carton in her lap.

"Well," Elliot starts, "I'd say, lawyer jokes are probably not best for the baby," he motions for her stomach jokingly, as she turns her head toward him. "I'm guessing she'd be the gushing aunt figure if she knew," Elliot trails off as he wipes his mouth with his napkin, trying to lighten the mood.

And it works.

"Oh hush, she's the one who told me that joke."

. . .

Dusk sets upon the cerulean sky and the low sun casts a heavy glow that barely washes over the tip of the house. The golden speckles peeking through the trees soothe and calm in an aura of serenity he's come to love in the short time he's been here already.

Olivia scoots herself up and rests her head against the back of the swing that's cushioned by the sweater she had brought out with her when they came back.

Elliot shifts beside her and casually eases his way from the corner to more in the middle next to her. Stuffing his hands underneath his thighs, he rests his head a few inches from hers on the back and just closes his eyes.

It's nice. A chilly breeze blows by every once in a while as the sun continues to set. He'd brought in his bag earlier and remembers seeing his cellphone lit up with a few missed calls. He makes a mental note to call his kids back as soon as possible.

Sighing, he opens his eyes and stares at the sky.

The beautiful open air is filled with tiny silver lights as the moon glimmers, reflecting its dark and light grays against the deep blue of the impending darkness, it's halftones representing the beginning of something much more. The night, it's young and full of life.

He swallows and looks at Olivia without moving his head. Her hands are intertwined and resting neatly across her belly and her head is still thrown back against her light purple sweater. Her eyes are focused in front of her.

At least he thinks so. They're barely open and her breaths are shallow as she dreamily gazes out toward the expanse of green in front of her. The lines of trees in front of her home are haunting yet full of security.

It's beautiful out here.

Turning his head towards her, he stays silent and watches her for a few moments. He crosses his arms over his stomach, listening to their combined breathing.

After a few long moments of gazing at her, then past her and taking in the scenery, he watches as the remaining reds, pinks and yellows of the residual glow above the tall Black Hills Spruce trees lining the narrow dirt road slowly swirl and dissipate into darkness.

The sight just radiates freshness and so he breathes deeply, inhaling the Dakota air.

He feels her shift beside him and he then realizes she's still awake. He barely raises his eye lids and moves his focus to the side of her face. Her dark brown hair rests lazily around her cheeks, the soft waves vibrant against her tanned face.

The glow within her fascinates him.

It's like he's peering into this stained glass window inside of Olivia and it's full of light and colors that he's never seen before.

She must feel his gaze on her because without moving her head, she opens her eyes and looks at him. Her dark eyes gleaming with a slight twinge of moisture and his heart skips a beat.

He has to continuously remind himself this is the same woman.

This is Olivia next to him. Slowly showing herself to him. Inching her way open.

"You know what I used think when I was a little girl?" she murmurs, the words drifting in between them like a soft melody.

He had missed hearing her for so long. Three years. He still can't believe he's here next to her. Breathing with her. Smelling her. Watching her. It's amazing how one person can calm you even after being apart for so long.

The whole plane ride here, he had an internal battle of wills with what he was going to do when he finally saw her. His chest had ached with dread. He knew there was great possibility he wouldn't be able to get them back to before, but he hadn't cared.

He just wanted to know that she was still out there somewhere because he hadn't felt her for three long damn years.

"Mmm, what did you think?" he whispers into the night air.

"I used to sit on my window sill at night, and wait for my mother to come home from one of her night classes she taught," she whispers. "And I would watch the sky turn dark every time and when she didn't show up, I knew she wasn't going to be home soon. So I looked at the sky and pretended that I remembered hearing a story about a goddess in the stars. A legend of a guardian amongst the lights. And when my mother didn't come back until really late some nights, I used to think that if I talked to the stars, I'd be able to sleep knowing something was watching me..." she trails off.

He watches her eyes gleam under the moon as she's lost in own world of past nights and lost moments.

Timidly, he reaches for her hand, laying his flat palm over her intertwined fingers that lay on her stomach.

Once he feels the warmness of her slim hands, he squeezes lightly before letting go, his own thoughts wafting to an Olivia as a child. Someone who never thought she'd ever be in her current situation.

"Did it help?"

"I knew it wasn't true. There are so many of those stories about Gods and Goddesses among the constellations but this one, this one I just made up. I needed something to believe in. But yea, it helped sometimes."

"You were brave, Olivia. To even think of something like that is amazing."

A brief moment passes between them as she takes in his words.

"I hadn't really seen them since," she continues softly. "I hadn't seen those stars since I was a kid. That is until I came here," she looks at him as he turns his head at the same time.

He nods slowly, accepting. Realizing. Loving what she is and has become.

He turns his body toward hers, giving her his full attention as his hand comes back to the space between them. "Were you happy?"

Looking away and into the darkness of the woods, she swallows and nods. "Yea, it wasn't the worst childhood. It wasn't the best either. I learned so much at a young age. It made me realize that what I needed to be when I was older. It made me stronger and hopeful."

Clasping his hands in his lap, he turns his head out towards the scenic picture in front of him. It's not what he meant. Though he doesn't mind hearing about her past because it's always been mesmerizing to hear her talk of a time when he didn't even know her.

"What about here, I mean?" he asks timidly. His stomach churns a little anticipating her answer. He's not sure what her most recent past entails. He definitely doesn't know the full extent of this new Olivia she has become and what went on during the years he's missed her.

"What part?"

"Were you happy that you left?"

Taking a deep breath, she silently contemplates her answer. She doesn't know. It's a two sided mirror when it comes to seeing herself in this place and back in the place of her birth, childhood, former life.

"I don't think I was unhappy," she offers. "I needed some time away. There are some things you just have to do and I did it," she finishes quietly as she bites her bottom lip.

He nods. He accepts it. He doesn't like that she just left, because he cared, cares about her. He had worried about her like never before, wondering if she was okay, where she was, what she was doing and if she was being treated right.

That was his main thought on most days. But he accepts it. He knows if she thinks she needed it, she did because she's never been one to think solely of herself.

"Do you wonder what it would be like to just move somewhere and start completely over?"

Slowly sitting up, he grabs lightly onto the chain connecting the swing to the porch and lays his head against his arm. "Sometimes. Is that what you wanted to do?" he whispers.

Shaking her head, she responds languidly.

"No, not really," she responds. "There's still the past. Everything that makes me who I am. Everything that leads up to right here. Right now," she turns her head and looks him in the eyes. "I could never start over. Really, truly start over. I'd lose too much," she pours out, her last word tinged with the slightest of emotion.

She feels exhausted. Laying down for a few days seems like a palpable idea. Her heart aches in so many different ways because he's here and she had gone so long without letting him know she was okay. And because he's here with her, he's escaped into the tranquility all around them, she can see it in his eyes.

Just like her.

But for how long? She doesn't want to ask right now. She doesn't want to think of the loneliness she'll feel after having him here and then not. It's a feeling she knows that will haunt her if he were to go back tonight. She has bigger gaps inside of her right now that she's never had before.

Open spaces that he doesn't even know about yet.

But with him here, she can feel those spaces filling up once again.

At this moment, she can't ask for anything else to make it better. It is what it is. He's what she needs.

Just him.

That's what he was to her. He was her friend, her life, her other half.

Feeling her resolve change in the last few seconds, he swallows and watches as she blinks a little too fast. Too painfully.

He leans over, reaching his arm around her neck and squeezes her opposite shoulder. Leaning into her, he breathes softly into her ear. Telling her silently, that it's ok. Whatever she's feeling, it's ok.

Her heart soars. It's okay right now. Breathing is much easier tonight. The familiarity is rewarding. There's peace in this moment with him.

Twisting her lips with tears brimming her eyes, she turns her head away but reaches her hand up first and puts it over his this time, squeezing gently. He's so warm and his presence demands her attention.

A long silence passes between them just as the crickets start to chime in the distance.

He feels her shake slightly with emotion.

Her hand feels small on top of his but it's soft and feminine and so full of life.

He wants to turn his over,intertwine their fingers and just sit there in silence and revel in the feeling of her. He shakes his head slowly, trying to sway his thoughts elsewhere but her hand brands his.

Her touch lingers when she hasn't even let go yet and nothing could sway him from leaving her tonight. He's immersed in her and full of want and need to know everything about her again.

Beneath hers, he keeps his hand still, nervous to move it but scoots his body a little closer. Bravely, he looks down at her profile.

She's still looking off to her right and her body radiates warmth yet her skin is slightly chilled. He feels her cotton sweater underneath his arm and pulls it from behind her shoulder, gently pulling his hand from under hers as he opens the fabric for her.

She feels his movement and looks him in the eye, realizing his intention and she smiles. Leaning forward as much as her growing stomach will let her she feels him move the sweater behind her, encasing her with the thready warmth to protect her from the chilly night air.

It gets much cooler at night up here.

She sits back against the hardness of the wood and immediately misses the feel of his hand on her, the individual warmth of each of his fingers wrapped around the mound of her shoulder branding her with intensity.

She turns to him and looks at his hands resting on both sides of his legs.

He's closer and her breath catches because he's nervously tapping his thumb on his thigh and she feels it too. That pull. It's something that's always been between them, that magnetism that lies beneath the briefest of touches.

Taking a deep breath, she refrains from pulling one of his large, calloused hands into hers and laying the combined weight on her thigh. As much as she wants to, she knows it's not something they'd normally do.

Clearing her throat, she turns her body slightly and looks at him. Really looks at him.

"Elliot, you came all the way out to South Dakota. On a plane. In the middle of the work week...," she trails off.

He scoffs lightly. Sitting back and stretching his long legs in front of the swaying swing, he rubs the back of his neck.

Looking at her, he realizes she's truly and utterly surprised that he's here and that she's thinking exactly what he'd been only moments ago. He understands in a way. He'd never truly gone out of his way for her in the past, though he would have done anything for her.

He's not sure if she knows that.

He'd realized sometime during their rough period, that he'd do anything for her in a heartbeat. He'd be there for her no matter what the circumstance. He hadn't exactly known what to do with this revelation at the time. It had scared him but he knew he'd do all that he could to be there anytime.

Much like he is now. He just doesn't know how to explain that to her without throwing her off. They're still trying to figure each other out again. She would have a hard time understanding and he'd have a hard time explaining since he really has no right to want to do those things for her.

Lowering his legs, he searches for the words.

"I, uh..." he stops, rubbing his thumb and index finger over his forehead. "I wanted to see you," he finally utters. "That was it. I went out on a limb and decided, 'What the hell? I'm going to go see her,'" he boldly admits.

His heart beats harshly against his chest. It's true. So many thoughts had crossed his mind. They still do. He had hoped he would really find her. That this wasn't some sort of dead had hoped he wasn't intruding on her new life, a new life with new people in it. He had been hoping she hadn't moved on completely from everything, from him.

But, it hadn't been like his thoughts at all.

She'd been sashaying around her kitchen, in South Dakota, living, breathing, and cooking he remembers. It's only been a few hours but it feels like they've been going around in circles for days, weeks.

"Are you okay with that?" he asks with genuine curiosity.

She looks down at her hands in her lap and shrugs a little bit. She worries her mouth and sighs into the still air that now permeates around them.

"Yea," she nods her head. "I don't have problem with it at all. You know you're welcome. I'm just... surprised still", she smiles sadly.

"Look, I know I was a jackoff most days and I can understand you not wanting to talk to me over the years. Hell, I'd need a break too. I know I didn't exactly make it a fact that you were important to me. I think I have to do things a certain way and I pay the price everytime. Sometimes I never learn and that's what gets me," he grates out as he kneads his forehead with this thumb and index finger.

What does she say to that? What can she say to make him understand that that's why she loves him so much. He's bullheaded and stubborn and angry but he's equally so passionate and subtle and loving that he'd never misuse any of that negativity he seems to think he has to hold onto.

"Oh, Elliot," she whispers on a breath. "You don't even realize do you?"

He bends his head down and shakes it slowly.

"I'm so happy you're here. Really. You actually saved me. Kind of," she smiles at him, wishing he'd look at her. Revealing that bit of herself is scary and she needs to see him, to know he understands.

She keeps letting all these tiny little scraps of sacred information about herself escape her mouth around him. She's so used to bottling things up and never letting them out that it's daunting that right now and after years apart, she is able to just say things.

The corner of his mouth rises slightly and she can tell he understands. The way he knows her and knows she has new secrets but doesn't push it makes her love him even more.

"So, what about you? What has Olivia Benson, former Special Victim's Detective been up to all the way out here in the middle of nowhere for three years? Huh," he nudges her playfully.

She smiles. It's weak but it's there.

"Oh," she sighs like it's no big deal. "You'd be surprised."

"Oh? Well that doesn't surprise me, that I wouldn't be surprised by you. I mean... you always did that," he throws out casually.

Blinking once, twice, she looks at him. He stares back at her and she feels like he's holding back laughter.

She furrows her brows, "What have I always done? And don't say be a pain in your ass because it's mutu-"

"Surprise me."

The quietness of his voice silences the word edging to escape her mouth. Nodding her head, she turns it away from him again, feeling emotion coming from deep within once more.

She sees the near empty carton of rice next to her and picks it up. Snapping her head back to him, she catches his gaze. Lifting the carton, "I can say the same about you," she whispers. She tips the white cardboard box with each word. Raising her eyebrows, she blinks and sits the box down on the smooth wood surface of the porch.

Scrunching his own brows, he crosses his arms over his chest. "How so? I surprise you?"

Grinning, she sits back against the corner of the swing again and mocks his position. Arms across her chest and one leg propped on the swing in front of her belly.

"Yea," she nods, drawing out the single syllable word. "You surprise me all the time. For instance, today. Annnnnd, tonight."

"OK," he draws out himself. "Care to enlighten me, Liv?" he asks sweetly. Jokingly.

She smiles. "Sure. You surprised me because," she whispers the next part closer in front of his face, "You actually told a funny joke for once." Her lips purse and she sits back against the corner, a chuckle vibrating within her.

Furrowing his brows, he thinks back to the joke he told earlier and how he could tell she was holding back her laughter.

Nodding his head deviously, he reaches over and grips the back of the swing. Leaning forward, he whispers mere inches from her face, his breath grazing her cheeks. "That was low, Liv. Reaaaal low," he whispers. Squinting his eyes, he continues. "Same can be said for you," he smirks.

Trying to keep from laughing or letting her heart skip out of her chest from his proximity, she grins. Taking some more of the napkins from the carry out Chinese bag, she crumples one up before turning herself around carefully and sitting forward again.

He's watching her like a hawk. She feels his eyes on her and she wants to touch him and hold his face between her hands. But, she doesn't. Instead, she wads up more of the napkins in her hands.

And then, throwing the paper balls his way, she stands as fast as she can and tosses over her shoulder, "Hah.. You know I'm funny. You're just jealous," she laughs as she moves toward the front door to her house.

In seconds, she's inside and he's still sitting on the swing dazed from her quick actions. He then laughs softly to himself and gathers up everything from off the swing.

As he walks toward the front door, he rubs his eye while his bare feet pad against the warm, sealed wood of the porch.

Making his way through the door, he sees the kitchen light on through the hallway entrance and tries to think up some more jokes so he can prove her wrong. Once the door is shut tightly, he inches his way down the hallway toward the light, and suddenly he's on edge for a reason he can't explain. Jokes are now the last thing on his mind.

When he reaches the doorway to her kitchen, he stops.

Olivia's standing over the kitchen table, palms flat against the surface with her head is bowed.

In mere seconds, he goes from happy and content with a bit of unexplained trepidation, to concern and filled with dread at the way she's standing so stiffly.

"Olivia?"

He gently touches her back and she jumps. She's shaking and her arms are full of goosebumps. He watches as she leans all the way down and touches her cheek to the table, wincing as she does so

"Olivia? What's wrong?"

He leans down next to her and looks at her face from the side.

Taking a deep breath, she turns her face toward his. "I…there was.. I just had a shooting pain in my stomach," she whimpers softly. "It felt like a knife stabbed though me from the inside out," she closes her lips tightly searching his eyes.

Taking a breath through his nose, he reaches an arm around her and rubs her back, the slow and languid movements hopefully calming her. "Have you had them before?" he whispers.

Swallowing hard, she doesn't answer right way.

Scrunching his brows, he tries again, "Olivia?"

She nods. "Yea, a few days ago. I was on the couch and I woke up with a sharp pain. I don't know what it is, Elliot," she cries out.

"Shh," he continues to soothe her and rub her back. "How far along are you again? It could be contractions. All women are different so I don't know, Liv."

"I'm over five months, going on six to be exact."

Standing back up, he shakes his head. "Are you still having pains now? Do you need to sit down?"

She nods, not sure which question she's answering.

He pulls out one of the white arched back chairs and tugs at her arm.

She tentatively stands upright and waddles toward the chair and sits. He kneels in front of her and places both of his hands firmly on her thighs. "Ok, Olivia. Just breathe. It's ok. Let's see if they start letting up."

She nods, breathing through her nose and letting the air escape her lips in long exhales. "I think they're going away now," she lets out in a breathy whisper.

"Alright," Elliot breathes in relief. He stands up and walks over to the sink and grabs a tall glass from her dish drainer. Filling it up with water, he turns around and sees her breathing deeply. "Can you take anything for it?"

The glass fills slowly with cool water and he waits for her to answer.

When he turns around with glass in hand, he nearly drops it.

"Olivia!"

She's slumped over in the chair, her face pale and clammy. He grabs her shoulders and shakes her slightly. "Liv? Olivia? Hey," he touches her cheek. It's cool and sweaty. "Come on, Liv," he frantically starts pulling at her arms. "Let's get you to the ER. You need to see someone."

She starts to mumble under her breath. "N-," she chokes out. "No. No, Elliot. I just need to go lay down," she pants as she grabs onto his shoulders for support. "Just help me to bed," she weakly cries. "Please?"

He swallows hard. She needs to get to a doctor. She looks like she's about to pass out. Nudging her to look at him, he cocks his head, "No, Liv. I'm taking you to the hospital. You're not ok. You look like you're about to pass out. And you were just fine outside."

Finally, after a few seconds, she nods in compliance.

Once she gets her bearings, she mumbles, "Ok, just let me stand here for a second. I just need to stand still for a minute."

As he holds onto one of her shoulders, he lets the other go and reaches into his pocket for the keys to his rental car sitting in her driveway.

In the split second it takes for him to reach down, her worried voice halts his actions.

"EL? Hurry," she pants out in a whisper as she grips his shirt sleeve as tight as she can. "I think I'm bleeding."

. . .

tbc.