Author's Note: Thank you all for your amazing reviews and words of encouragement recently. I will keep posting chapters consistently this week, but as a heads up, I will be leaving for vacation Sunday so you won't get chapters next week.

Chapter Ten – Know You

Olivia heard her cell ring but had no desire to get up to get it even though it was only on her bedside table. Her doctor had slightly altered her medication a few days ago, and she'd been dealing with exhaustion ever since. Hopefully the side effect wouldn't stick around very long, but if it did her doctor had confirmed they'd switch her meds again. For now though she had to deal with the near constant fatigue. If she hadn't been used to being woken up by a phone call she probably would have ignored the ringing. Instead she reached out and fumbled across the bedside table until her fingers connected with her phone. The entire time she hadn't even bothered opening her eyes.

"Hello?"

"Olivia."

The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place who it belonged to. Someone she knew, but beyond that she had no idea. She responded in a generic mumble that could have been taken as assent or greeting depending on who was on the other end of the call.

"It's Bayard Ellis. Did I catch you at a bad time?"

He didn't sound the least bit apologetic. In fact, he sounded more amused than anything else. Olivia wasn't used to hearing him like that which made it harder for her foggy brain to connect his voice with his name.

"Bayard?"

That stopped Ellis cold. Did she seriously not know who he was? He knew she'd been hurt bad enough to end her career, but he didn't know the full details. Had her injuries altered her memory?

"Do you know who I am, Olivia?" he asked in the way he would to a client that wasn't quite right in the head.

"Shit, Bayard. I'm messed up, but I'm not that messed up. Just tired. It took a while for what you were saying to get through."

"Didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine. The meds have been knocking me out lately."

Normally she wouldn't have even considered telling Bayard half as much as she had. With her exhaustion and uncaring attitude she wasn't paying much attention to what she was sharing with him.

"Sounds like you could use some coffee."

"I would not argue with coffee."

"How about I meet you somewhere? It will be my treat."

"Ah… That's not a good idea. I try not to leave here. It's safer that way. Less chance I'll wind up back in the hospital."

"If you're willing, I'll bring it to you."

"You're going to drive all the way to my apartment when you should be working?"

"Consider it pro bono."

Olivia couldn't come up with a good way to turn him down, and she really could use a good coffee. Finally giving in, she gave Ellis her order and address. Once she'd hung up she glanced at the clock. 10:20. Sheesh. She dragged herself out of bed and went to get changed before Ellis arrived. By the time he knocked on the door she had almost fallen asleep as she sprawled out on the couch.

"Coffee," he said first thing once Olivia had opened the door.

Ellis knew better than to try to have a deep conversation with a cop before they'd had their coffee. Sometimes it was even better to wait until after the second cup. He waited patiently outside the door until she'd had a few sips.

"Going to invite me in?"

She stepped back to let him in and closed the door behind him. Ellis had never been to her home before and almost immediately began taking things in. The place was nice and obviously lived in, though he didn't see too much personalization to it. Considering how she had lived for the job, he wasn't all that surprised. What did surprise him was the oddly missing lamp. There was a strange open area that didn't make any more sense than the missing lamp. It seemed like a lot of wasted space to him. The artwork hanging on her fridge was curious too, but Ellis assumed it was from a victim she'd worked with. There had to be a story behind it. He didn't come here to evaluate her apartment though. He'd really come to evaluate her.

"All the time off led you to cut your hair I see."

Olivia stiffened instantly. Ellis had never come off as insensitive to her, at least not after she'd gotten to know him. He probably didn't know the details of her injuries and hadn't realized what he'd said. Regardless, Olivia didn't know how to respond. She couldn't even look at him. It was hard enough to deal with her injury on her own, and the last thing she needed was someone else pointing out the signs of it.

"Olivia?"

Bayard had noticed the sudden change in Olivia, but he wasn't sure what had caused it. Likely something he'd said. The only question was why.

"It's grown back." When she saw Bayard start struggling to find an appropriate reply, she took pity on him and filled in the holes. "I lost most of it because of the surgery. Head injury."

There was no point in asking if her injury was severe. If it hadn't been she wouldn't have retired. After the improvement he'd seen in her since the first day they'd met, he hadn't figured she would retire anytime soon. She cared too much. For her to leave it had to be bad.

"You're not wearing your necklaces either."

Not once had Ellis seen Olivia without at least one of her necklaces. Even when they'd met off the job she'd had them on. He had no idea what the significance behind the necklaces was, but he suspected there was one. Knowing Olivia there had to be a reason just as good not to wear them as she likely had for why those ones were always on.

Olivia looked down and fiddled with her coffee cup. It had a slightly rough texture, and she focused on the feel of it under her moving thumbs as she answered him.

"Some days I can't work the clasps."

It was true, but not the only reason. Her necklaces, make-up, hairstyle, none of that was worth bothering about anymore. Most days she pulled on whatever was handy and didn't take long to put on and ran a brush through her hair. The only days she paid much attention to what she put on were days when she had some form of therapy to go to.

She felt the couch cushion beside her sink down. Ellis sat watching her, waiting for her to look up at him. It took longer than he'd expected. As her eyes met his he realized there was more to what was happening than she'd shared. The look he was seeing in her eyes now almost mirrored what he had seen outside the courthouse. Before he could get a word in Olivia was on her feet.

"If you're done I can throw that out for you or get you something else."

"I'm fine."

Olivia nodded and moved toward the kitchen. She never made it. Halfway there she vanished from view and hit the ground. It wasn't very often that Olivia wound up on the ground and remained conscious. Even though she was aware, all Olivia could do was watch as her cup of coffee slowly spilled across the ground, creating a bigger and bigger pool. As the left side of her body continued jerking Olivia caught a brief glimpse of Ellis' legs before the rest of him came into view. Before he called for help she had to find a way to let him know she was okay. She tried to say something but didn't have enough control to get anything remotely understandable out. With control on her right side she thought she might be able to reach out to Ellis. While Olivia managed to get her hand out, the shaking made her miss Ellis completely. Thankfully he'd noticed the movement.

"Olivia?"

"Eyn." That was the best she could do, but at least he knew she'd heard him.

Ellis watched her closely as the seizure slowly subsided, his phone at the ready in case she took a turn for the worse. After a slow, shaky breath and a brief moment with her eyes closed to steady herself she gazed up at him.

"It's okay. I'm okay."

"You sure?"

Olivia nodded and pushed herself up on trembling arms. She almost hated the seizures she was aware of more than the violent grand mals that knocked her out. Being aware but unable to control her body or stop what was happening was terrifying. The experience was always panic inducing and made it hard to breathe. She had more control over a hostage situation where the gun was at her head than she did during her seizures. Ellis held out a hand, and Olivia let him pull her to her feet.

As unsettled as Olivia was, Ellis had expected a lot worse after what he'd witnessed. He assumed he would see the wide, glassy eyes of shock. Instead Olivia simply stood with her arms crossed protectively around herself and was rubbing at her upper arms. This couldn't be the first time she'd dealt with… whatever it was. Seizure? Stroke? Something completely different? He didn't really know, but he would definitely be asking if she didn't explain outright.

Olivia dropped down onto one of her bar stools and rubbed at her face.

"The head injury, ah, left me with recurring seizures. It's why I had to leave the force. You can't exactly go chasing down a suspect when you could collapse at any time. Shaking hands don't really help with firing a weapon either."

She was trying to make light of the situation so it didn't seem as bad as it really was. The last thing she wanted was pity from Bayard. She'd had enough of that, and it never helped anyway. Everyone in New York City could feel bad for her and want to do something, but she still wouldn't get her job back.

"How often?"

"At least once a day, usually more."

"Any chance it will get better?"

Olivia nearly laughed and shook her head.

"Not really. It might become more controlled, but what that really means…"

She shrugged. Controlled could mean anything from no seizures to a few grand mals per week. There was no for sure, especially when a head injury was involved.

"You've been dealt a rough hand. Doesn't mean you won't get through it."

"You have a lot more faith than me."

"Sometimes you don't know yourself very well."

Once again she shook her head in humorous disbelief. Bayard was being more than a little ridiculous in her point of view.

"And you know me better?"

"I knew you better two years ago."

"It's not the same. You were calling me out on a lie then."

"That doesn't mean I don't have faith in you now. You'll get through this, Olivia. And now I better be going. You still have my card."

It wasn't a question, and it wasn't a request to call him either. The comment was just a reminder that she had the means to contact him if she wanted to. It was kind of nice. He cared, but he wouldn't push.