Letting Dean hold her hands as they finalized the end of their relationship, Olivia prayed she wasn't making a mistake. Dean was a good person. Someone she'd come to care for as a close friend and whom she felt would be there for her. Hell, he'd been there for her tonight, even though she hadn't asked him to be. When Captain Cragen had contacted Simon about Olivia's attack, Simon had asked him to also notify Dean Porter on Olivia's behalf. Simon had heard Olivia speak of Dean so frequently as of late, and one time Dean even came with Olivia to his house when she needed to drop off family photo albums she'd borrowed. It seemed anytime he spoke with Olivia or saw her, Dean was part of the equation. Olivia supposed she couldn't blame sweet Simon for mistakenly believing her relationship with Dean was more than it really was. Later, she'd have to give him a sisterly scolding for poking his nose in her business, but also a hug for looking out for her.
"It pains me to see you banged up like this, but I'm glad you weren't harmed worse," Dean said genuinely. "When Cragen called me I could only think of the worst."
Tears came to Olivia's eyes. Her throat felt tight and dry as she struggled to speak. It hurt to breathe the air necessary to form words. "I'm sorry for…(breath)…scaring everybody." (More breaths) "…I wish none of you had known." (Breath) "…'feel like I've wasted your night."
"I think you're worth getting out of bed for," Dean winked. Patting her hand, he cautioned her, "Don't speak anymore, okay? It's too much for you." Summoning his courage he asked, "Is it alright with you if I just sit with you for a couple more minutes? We don't have to talk."
Olivia tried to pay attention to Dean, but for a split second she could have sworn she'd seen Elliot in the hallway. Unable to change her position for a second glance, she reprimanded herself for imagining him there.
Noticing that Olivia no longer seemed to be listening to him, Dean tried to continue the conversation, "I, uh, I hope you didn't mind that I came, considering our conversation at your door. But I was concerned, and to be honest, I think a part of me was hoping you'd ask for me."
"I'm touched (breath) you would come. But I meant (breath) what I said the other night, we could have a great friendship (breath)—please give it a chance."
Careful not to life her arms to high, Dean leaned down and kissed her fingertips. "Well, if I can't date you, then I'd be honored to at least have you consider me a ally." Pausing, Dean asked about Simon. "Things must be going well with your brother."
Not feeling up to speaking anymore—just breathing without the concern of talking felt excruciating, Olivia just nodded.
"Simon told me that Lucy asked you to be a bridesmaid when they got married this summer. You never told me that."
Olivia gave a half-smile and shrugged.
"Well, I bet it felt nice to be included."
She'd felt ridiculous being a bridesmaid at her age, but she didn't want to disappoint Lucy or Simon, so she'd agreed. In the end, she was glad she'd made the choice to accept the invitation. It was an incredible feeling at the reception to tell people she was the "sister of the groom". It was the first time in a long time she'd felt as though she had a family, one in which she was loved and played a significant role. Her favorite part of it all was being an aunt to Lucy's little boy. He adored Olivia—and the feelings were reciprocated.
Olivia tried to reposition herself, but her cracked rib caused her face to grimace in pain.
"Whoa, take it easy. Are you in pain? Let me help you—what do you need? More painkillers?"
"No!" Olivia said almost too forcefully. Embarrassed at her dramatic response, she tried to explain herself. "No heavy drugs (breath) until I absolutely can't take it anymore."
"Perhaps a pillow would help?" Dean offered. Olivia motioned to an extra pillow on the chair. "Unfortunately, I think the nurse is right when she says you're going to hurt a lot worse tomorrow." Dean helped place it near her back as Olivia yawned painfully.
"Well, I, um, think you need some rest. I'm gonna get out of here, but I'll be back tomorrow. Anything you'd like me to pick up? Favorite magazines? Ice cream? Morphine drip?" Dean joked.
"No, no…please don't bother yourself. (Breath) I'm sure I'll be able to check out tomorrow anyway. Let's do lunch when I'm back on my feet, (breath) okay?"
A skeptical Dean raised his eyebrows in doubt, but decided to humor the stubborn patient. "Okay. Sounds good—I'll call. Unless I hear from you first because you need something. Even if it's just some company or a ride home. Deal?"
Olivia smiled gratefully. "Deal. Thanks, Dean."
Appreciating Dean's thoughtfulness, but also uncomfortable with all the attention she was getting, Olivia welcomed the time alone now. The events from her apartment ran over and over in her mind. She kept thinking about all the things she should have done differently to protect herself better. She also thought about the conversation she and Elliot had at the precinct elevator. All her big talk about being able to take care of herself. Boy, was he going to have a field day with this. He'd never leave her alone about it again. She dreaded seeing anyone from work—she was sure she'd lost all respect from her peers. It was hard enough being a female cop, let alone detective. It was like some people were just waiting for you to screw up and take a hit.
Feeling the weight of her eyelids, she finally decided to stop fighting her body and succumb to the rest it was demanding from her.
As Dean approached the waiting room, he thanked Simon and Captain Cragen for thinking to call him. Pushing the elevator button, he waited for the doors to open. All but deciding he wasn't going to wait any longer and take the stairs, he heard the familiar bell indicating the lift had reached his floor. Standing back for the opening doors, he waited to enter so the exiting party would have room. Dean was surprised to see Elliot on the other side of the threshold.
Holding a cup of coffee, Elliot made a point to hold direct eye contact with Agent Porter. Never breaking the contact as he walked passed him, Elliot nodded a civil hello.
Dean caught Elliot's attention before he moved for the elevator by whispering, "Detective…uh, I mean, Elliot…"
Stopping at the informal use of his first name, Elliot looked straight ahead while Dean spoke.
"I just wanted to say…whether she knows it or not, Olivia's been waiting for you." Sighing in defeat as he went inside the elevator. Prior to the doors closing, he finished his thoughts towards Elliot. "Don't make her wait any longer than she already has."
Before Elliot could turn around and make Porter explain his statement, the doors had closed and he was gone.
Trying to appear as though their exchange wasn't so cryptic, Elliot walked forward towards Fin and Cragen.
"Hey, man, how you holdin' up?" Fin asked.
Playing it cool—too cool—Elliot remarked, "I've been told she's going to be fine, so that makes me fine."
"Come on, man, don't give me that. We all know what it's like to have your partner in trouble. We all know you're goin' through hell right now. Don't mess things up worse by—"
"I'm fine, I said," Elliot bit out. "Now do you think it would be possible to turn our attention towards the son of a bitch that did this to her? Where is he?"
"Paramedics brought him here initially, but as soon as he was stable enough, he was transported to Bellevue Hospital Prison Ward on First Avenue. He'll be monitored for twenty-four hours there and if given the clear, taken onto Rikers."
"Stable enough? What were his injuries?" Elliot raised the question the captain was most eager to answer.
"Bruised over nearly inch of his body, it seems. Broken nose and cheekbone. Concussion," Cragen puffed up in pride at describing the damage Liv's attacker endured. "Seems our girl not only overcame with her own bare hands, but also used a book to knock the asshole unconscious."
"When can we start in on this guy?" Fin asked.
"Munch is on his way to Bellevue now. Lake should be meeting him."
"I want to go, too," Elliot demanded.
"Munch and Lake can handle it. Don't you want to stay and—"
"I'll see her tomorrow," Elliot postponed. "I'll let her get some rest and come by in the morning." He wasn't completely lying, as he was anxious to get his hands on Blackner. Right around his throat, to be precise. But if the whole truth were told, he also assumed that Olivia had already seen the one man tonight she really needed, or wanted.
"It is morning," Fin pointed out, trying to catch Elliot in his thin excuse.
"You know what I mean," said Elliot, no longer willing to answer questions about something that was nobody's business but his own. Turning to leave, he asked over his shoulder, "You guys coming or not?"
Meeting up with Lake and Munch, then flashing their badges at the officers posted outside Blackner's door, the five men entered Blackner's room. He was sitting up in bed, watching television with one wrist hand-cuffed to the bed. Seeing the small space fill with officers of the law, he almost visually shrunk down in trepidation.
"Feeling up to company?" Munch jeered. "Or have you had enough human interaction for one night?"
"Yo, Couch Potato, turn the TV off—we got some questions for your punk ass." Fin grabbed the remote off the bed. Blackner shriveled back in alarm as Fin's arm rose to press power at the television.
Fin laughed at Blackner's cowardly conduct. "What? You think I'm gonna hit you? Man, you only wish I would have been the one to get to you tonight. How's it feel to have be put in the hospital by a girl?"
Blackner only stared at Fin, nervous at seeing five comrades of the officer he'd assaulted standing around his bed. Elliot took in Blackner's appearance. His nose was definitely broken, judging by the bruising around his eyes and nasal cavities, as well as the crooked line his nose was sporting. Elliot could see an ice pack on the table near the bed. He assumed Blackner was supposed to use it for the swelling. One side of his face was also extremely swollen and almost misshapen. Elliot assumed that was the broken cheekbone Cragen had spoken of.
"You wanna tell us what happened tonight, Tim?" Lake asked. "Like what in the world made you think you'd get away with it?"
Tim was silent for a moment as he beckoned his courage. In a small voice, he said, "I wasn't planning on hurting her. Not at first, anyway."
"Oh…well, that just changes everything, doesn't it?" Elliot dripped with sarcasm. Turning to his coworkers, he continued, "He didn't mean to attack her. It just happened."
"Honest, I only wanted to talk to her. Ask her why she just couldn't leave me alone." Darting his eyes back and forth, Tim tried to distinguish which detective might buy his story. "You don't know what it was like for me. I had nowhere to go. I didn't have a job. You were watching my apartment. I had no money. My life was over."
"And you thought talking to Detective Benson would make your problems just disappear?" Cragen asked in abhorrence.
"I just wanted her to understand what happened. I wanted her to understand that I am not a bad person. Once I got her into her apartment, I was going to tie her up just so she'd be forced to listen. I wasn't going to hurt her." Taking a bitter look to his face, Tim tried to defend himself. "I didn't come onto Andrea, you know. She came onto me."
"That's not what we heard, man." Fin challenged Tim's statement. "We hear you're always spreadin' a line for the ladies. Fillin' 'em up with compliments. To the point it got you fired!"
"I was just giving good customer service! I was at work when Andrea came in. She asked me for help with the self-serve copier. She came onto me!"
"You think a woman asking for assistance with a machine means she wants to have sex with you? What's wrong with your head, Tim?" Munch was appalled.
"You weren't there. You don't know. The way she looked at me. She wanted me. She started talking to me about this party she was going to. She invited me to go with her. She invited me!"
"So because she invited you to go to a party, she was inviting you to rape her?" Munch asked. "You don't waste any time there, do you?"
"She was hitting on me all night long. Taking my picture, getting me beers."
"True, she did take your picture," Lake acknowledged, "along with several other people in attendance. And according to them, she was rejecting your advances all evening. Your obnoxious and clueless flirting was nothing but a huge turn-off to her."
"And that made you angry, didn't it?" Elliot leaned towards Tim menacingly. "You had just lost your job and now this girl was giving you mixed signals and playing you like a fool."
Tim pressed his back as far back into the sheets as he could, trying to create space between himself and the broad detective.
"You were going to teach her a lesson. So when you saw her walking past the copy store later that night, you felt the perfect opportunity. You dragged her back into that alley and raped her, then murdered her…Didn't you, you insignificant piece of garbage? DIDN'T YOU?" The other detectives watched Elliot balling up his fists over and over. They glanced at Cragen in concern.
"I only wanted to find out why Andrea was so hot and cold. I never meant to hurt her." Tim was crying now. "It just got out of hand. I didn't mean to hurt her! I never meant for her to die! I only wanted to talk to her!"
"Just like you 'only wanted to talk to Detective Benson', right? You sick bastard! You're all sick bastards with zero control!" Elliot now had one hand on each side rail of the hospital bed, so close to Tim's head that Tim could feel the heat coming from Elliot's face.
Just before he did something to compromise their interrogation, Cragen wedged his arm between Tim and Elliot as Fin and Lake pulled the angry detective away.
"Come on, man," Fin persuaded. "I know you're mad, we all are. But he ain't worth it. He ain't worth the air we breathe."
Time passed slowly for Olivia. She was exhausted and wanted desperately to sleep, but the pain was increasingly worse, as well as the nausea. She'd vomited twice in the past hour, although there was nothing left in her stomach. The dry heaving was unbearable with her damaged rib. Finally deciding she needed additional help, she called the nurse back into her room and requested something stronger for the pain.
Feeling her world become soft and dizzy as the drug entered her bloodstream, Olivia was at last able to close her eyes and fall into a deep sleep.
It was during this time that Elliot returned to the hospital. Walking past the empty nurse station, he quietly opened her door. It was light out again, the morning sun seeping through the blinds. Relieved to find her sleeping, he silently closed the blinds, hoping the artificial darkness might help postpone her waking.
Sitting in the upholstered chair next to the bed, he rested his elbows on his knees while he looked at her. She was asleep, but not peacefully. He was troubled at the way her brow was creased and mouth turned in a frown. Hearing her moan softly, he noticed the corners of her eyes were wet. Feeling guilty that he may have been able to prevent the suffering that was causing her bad dreams, he hung his head in despair. Soon he felt his own tears fall and he covered his face with his hands.
"Liv," he whispered. "Oh, Liv. God, I'm so sorry. There's nothing I can do to make up for what I have done. For neglecting you. For not being there. For not protecting you." Sobs racked his body as he tried to control his volume. "You're my partner and I wasn't there. I'm. never. there. Never there with you."
Gently raising his arm onto her bed, he delicately grasped her left hand within his own. "I want to be, Liv. I'm tired of this weighing us down. It's always going to hang over us, isn't it? This thing between us. The only way I figure we'll get rid of it is to stop dancing around and face it. If we don't, I'm afraid it's going to destroy us. Not just our partnership, but us."
Rubbing her fingernails with his thumb, he stared at the way her hands were cut up, just like his. Just one more way they were one and the same. A couple of fingernails were broken and her knuckles were raw from the fight she'd given that asshole. He smiled a little with pride. "Atta girl," he thought to himself. As he rubbed her fingers, he noticed her face no longer indicated a restless sleep. Instead, she now reflected tranquility.
Looking at her ring finger, his heart ached for her loneliness. Would she ever be able to wear a band on that hand? For her sake, he prayed the answer was yes. But he also prayed to God that when she did, he would no longer be around. He could never watch her make that commitment to another man. He could never not be the man in her life.
Knowing he'd never admit this to a conscious Olivia, he told her about his visits to Father Bennion. "I've been talking to my priest lately. Trying to clear my head—or my conscience, I guess. I'm still not sure if it's helping…"
Letting go of her hand, he grabbed the tattered hem of the hospital blanket. Rubbing it between his thumb and pointer finger, he focused on the white stitching to help him go on. "I told him about my feelings for you. What it was like for me when you were gone. I never thought I'd ever voice this, but I even admitted to him that the baby was the only thing keeping me with Kathy. His reaction wasn't what I'd expected. Father Bennion just looked at me like he hadn't anticipated me saying anything different than that. Instead of counseling me to find joy in my family, or giving me direct advice on improving my relationship with Kathy, he told me that God would want me to be happy. What do you think that means?"
Dropping the blanket hem as he realized he was talking to himself, his eyes again began to moisten. "I was there at the church when Cragen called." Sucking in a thick breath of air, he choked out, "When he called, I just knew. He didn't even really have to say it. I just knew something had happened to you. And that I wasn't there to stop it." Twisting his face in the memory of that moment, he gripped the side of the bed and rested his face on his outstretched arms. Silently weeping, he exerted great effort in regaining his composure. "What would I have done, Liv? Without you, I mean? I couldn't… What if…"
Feeling a hand softly cover his tight hold on the bed rail, Elliot's breath caught in his throat. Snapping his head upward, his red-rimmed eyes gazed into her sleepy brown pools. Tears streamed down her cheek, wetting her pillow. Holding their stare for over a minute, their eyes spoke all the words they both felt. All the words they'd never cross the line to say. The honor and duty they both felt towards their jobs, towards Elliot's family, towards their own personal morals. It was a line they'd never cross because that was who they were. Two people founded upon good values and principles. Ethics and responsibility, even to the point of self-sacrifice.
Elliot broke the silence with his strangled voice. "How long have you… What did you…?"
Olivia's voice was hoarse and deep with feeling. Trying not to show the pain that came with speaking, she concentrated on the blue swirls in his eyes. "Long enough to hear you (breath) blaming yourself for my mistakes."
Blinking at her self-condemnation, he only shook his head. "I'm your partner. I should have—"
"—Offered me a ride home? (breath) Which I insisted I did not need?" Giving a small, self-loathing chuckle, Olivia turned her head away from Elliot. Staring at the ceiling, she swallowed loudly. "No one will ever look at me (breath) the same."
Confused, Elliot ran a single finger through the hair at her temple. "What are you talking about? Of course we will."
"I've lost all their respect. (breath) Now they'll only see me as weak."
A low rumble of laughter came from Elliot's throat. "Did you see what you did to that jerk? You kicked his ass. No one is going to see you as weak, Liv. If anything, we're all probably a little more afraid of you."
Olivia gave a complimentary smile. "I should have noticed he was following me." Shaking her head softly, she stilled as she took a shallow breath. She wondered aloud, "Why didn't I notice?"
"We aren't superhuman, Olivia. People make mistakes. Even detectives. Are we expected to live our lives constantly one-hundred percent aware of every little thing around us?"
"We've been trained to be."
"No, we've been trained to be while on the job. But we have lives outside the job, Liv. You can't live your life expecting danger around each corner. Don't beat yourself up over this."
Catching his Freudian slip, Olivia looked at him and rolled her eyes. "You're one to talk." (breath)
After a moment of silence, she confessed to Elliot, "I was distracted."
"What do you mean?"
"I wasn't paying attention. (breath) Because I was thinking…"
"About what?"
Returning her eyes to the ceiling, Olivia told him the truth. "About what you said. (breath) At the elevator."
Before Elliot could respond, they were interrupted by a quick knock at the door.
Popping her head inside, the nurse on duty explained, "Ms. Benson, it's time for another dose of medicine."
"I think I'm fine," Olivia tried to avoid the painkillers. "I'm feeling much better now."
"You might think so now, dear, but if you let the last dosage end without another beginning, you'll be in a world of hurt."
Looking to Elliot for back-up, he raised his hands in the air surrendering to the nurse's instructions. "Don't like at me," he said. "As far as I'm concerned, the more painkillers for you, the better."
Sighing deeply, then regretting the sudden contracting of her diaphragm, Olivia was quickly convinced that the drugs might still be needed.
Waving a white paper in the air, Munch walked into the bullpen with a satisfied smile upon his face.
"Here it is, folks, in black and white. Tim Blackner's blood from Olivia's apartment proves that it is his DNA which was found inside Andrea Millecam's body and under her fingernails."
"I'll call Casey," Fin suggested.
"No need," Cragen stated from the doorway of his office. "She already knows, as does Mr. Blackner's public defender. They're already working on a guilty plea. The defense knows they don't have a leg to stand on between Blackner's confession and the DNA evidence."
Turning his attention to Elliot, who walked in at the tail end of Munch's good news, Cragen motioned for him to come into his office.
