A/N-Okay, so I finished this chapter. Took long enough, right? Seriously, though, my life is so insane. First I had this crazy tests, then my computer crashes, and finally I wrote a sufficient chapter. This is the unbeta'd version, because my beta hasn't gotten back to me yet. I took pity on the poor readers. Also, all events in the dream sequence are taken from the show. The order might be off, but what happened to every character actually happened (save for baby Alexandra!) If you still love this story, even after the long wait, please review!

Disclaimer-I don't own them. Duh!

Pretty Please?-Reviews. I love them. They encourage me to find the next chapter on my computer and take the time needed to upload it. If you don't review, I don't update. Simple as that.

Summary-One night, Olivia finds a gift that can only be described as a blessing and a curse. Developing E/O...

Chapter Nine-Calming Down

The credits rolled lazily up the screen as Elliot gradually woke from a light nap. He shifted to move to a more comfortable position when he realized someone had nestled into the crook of his neck.

It only took him a moment to remember that the sleeping woman was his Olivia.

Alexandra had been tucked in hours ago, after a home-cooked dinner of spaghetti and a warm bottle. Then they had started the movie and somehow, between the opening credits and the finale, Olivia had drifted off to sleep beside him.

It was something he had seen before, both at work and in the very apartment he sat in right now. He had gone up to the crib to wake her up to hear a development in the case and had always caught himself watching her for only a moment. Sometimes the worried looks the day had given her carried into sleep, and sometimes she smiled as though true happiness rested behind the lids of her eyes.

Either way, she was still beautiful. And she was still asleep right now.

Very slowly, he snaked an arm down to hook around her waist and then he looped the other under her knees. It had been a long time since he had carried a woman this way, but the time he had spent lifting weights had preserved his strength.

Gently, slowly, carefully, he hoisted the sleeping woman up off the couch and carried her into the bedroom. He tenderly put her down and pulled the covers up next to her chin.

Then he changed into an NYPD standard tee shirt and cautiously climbed into bed beside her, looking at her sleeping form. A small smile was on her face and he was confused for just a moment.

"Thanks," she mumbled sleepily, not opening her eyes. He rubbed her arm affectionately and all she could hear was her words from the afternoon. The more a person gains, Casey, the more they have to lose.

Elliot was down at the other end of the hallway, Alexandra snug in his arms. She could see them so clearly, and she could see the black figure moving towards them.

Save Elliot. Save Alexandra.

She took off running and gasped at the first sight that came across her path. Her mother, Serena Benson, sprawled on the ground with a bottle in her hand. It was exactly like she had imagined how her mother had died. She had been unable to save her mother from the bottle, from her rapist, and from most importantly from herself. Olivia Benson had failed to save her mother from Olivia.

Save Elliot. Save Alexandra.

The next horrific image to block her from them was that of Alex Cabot. The ADA was lying on the ground, dark red blood staining the area around her. Her skin was deathly pale and her eyes had already closed. She had failed to save her, too.

Save Elliot. Save Alexandra.

She had managed to run a little farther when she came across another body slumped against the wall. Fin, shot, just as he had been shot two years ago now. She was his cover that day, and he had run in to get something. He had come out on a stretcher. She had failed him.

Save Elliot. Save Alexandra.

The progression of events was getting clearer in her mind. Casey was next. While she was out purchasing coffee, Casey was getting beat up by some vengeful foreigner, to the point of needing to spend time in a hospital. If she hadn't stepped out, maybe she could've saved Casey.

Save Elliot. Save Alexandra.

The next traumatic event had been the shooting at the courthouse. She came across Munch bleeding on the ground from a bullet wound. If she had been there, maybe she could have saved him, and saved Elliot. He had been shot that day.

Save Elliot. Save Alexandra.

She watched as the black figure crept up behind Elliot and forced him to his knees. It was just like the warehouse last year. The blackness took Alexandra into its depths and a gun emerged, pointing right at Elliot's head. His eyes were strangely calm and he was begging her to take the shot, the shot that could potentially kill him.

She shook her head, crying hysterically.

"Liv! Olivia, wake up!"

"No! Elliot…" she whispered urgently, still half-asleep. Tears quickly made their way down her face and she tried to pull herself from Elliot's embrace.

"Shh…Liv, it's a bad dream. Wake up!" He pulled her from her sleeping position into his lap, cradling her.

"Elliot?" she asked, rubbing her eyes and wiping the tears. "Elliot, you shouldn't see me like this!"

Her breathing was short and it sounded like she was going to burst into tears all over again. He hugged her close and waited for her tears to subside.

"Tell me about the dream," he coaxed, but she shook her head.

"You shouldn't see me like this," she whispered again.

"Like what? Like a human being? We can't be superheroes all the time," he reminded her. "Now, please tell me what got you crying so badly."

Her breath hitched for a moment before she murmured "I couldn't save anyone. Not you, not Alexandra, not anyone." Then the tears came again.

She pushed herself away from him and quietly pulled her black bathrobe on over her tee shirt and flannel pajama pants. Then she left the bedroom, hiccupping once or twice and making quiet noise in the kitchen.

Elliot followed her out, observing her from the doorway. She made herself a cup of tea, then pushed the armchair that he had never seen her sit in over to the window. Then she wrapped herself into the blanket, sat down in the chair, pulled her knees up close to her body, took a long sip of tea, and sat staring out the window.

He allowed her a moment of thought before walking over to the armchair and standing next to it, looking down at her. She frowned and turned so that she faced the window and her body was turned away from him.

"You never sit in that chair," he noticed quietly.

"I inherited it from my mother. It's got bad memories," she replied, not looking back.

"What kind of bad memories?"

"Leave me alone, Elliot. You've never had to pull and drag your mom into a chair and clean her face and dump her vodka. You've never had to watch her sober up and avoid her because even looking at you in a fragile state will set her off in a tirade about how you look like the man who destroyed her. You've never wanted to make that pain go away, only to realize that for that to happen you can't exist anymore. You don't know anything about what's going through my head."

Her voice was deathly quiet and laden with sadness as she rocked back and forth, pressing her face into her knees.

"You're right. I've never had to do any of those things," he said slowly. "But I want to know what it's like, if you'll tell me."

She relaxed a bit in her chair and waited for him to continue.

"So…what now?" he asked.

"Now you'll go back to sleep."

"And you?" She shuddered involuntarily as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"The nightmare came tonight," she said softly, sounding more like a child then a tough cop. "I won't be going back to sleep now."

Absentmindedly, she ran her pointer finger over the rim of her cup, waiting for him to go back to sleep. She wasn't expecting his next move.

He took the mug and set it down on her coffee table. Then he leaned over and picked her up, just as he had done hours earlier.

"Elliot, put me down!" she gasped, beating at his chest helplessly with her fists. He shook his head and deposited her onto her bed, without so much grace this time.

She landed with a thump and an "Ouch!"

"There, now talk to me. Tell me about your nightmare. Have you had it before?" He sat down next to her and watched as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, giving him angry looks as she settled into a comfortable spot.

"Yes, I've had it before, and why am I sitting in here now? I'm not going back to sleep," she replied stubbornly.

"It doesn't matter right now if you sleep or not. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she said slowly. "I…can't. I don't tell anyone about the nightmares."

"I want to hear about it, I want to help. Trust me, Olivia," he pleaded, and she swung her legs over the bed so that her feet touched the ground. Elliot started, ready to catch her if she ran, but instead she folded her hands in her lap and looked anywhere but at him.

"It always starts the same way. I dream that we're stuck somewhere, and I need to find you, save you. I see you, so I start running towards you. This time, you had Alexandra with you. You've both wormed your way into my heart, I suppose. But whenever I run, I come across someone I couldn't save. My mom first, then Alex. Remember when Fin got shot in that store? He's always slumped against a wall in my dreams, just as he was then." She paused for a moment and blinked away a few tears before continuing.

"Then it's Casey, when she got beat up in her office. Then you and Munch got shot at the courthouse last year, and suddenly how I imagined what happened entered my dream. Finally, I got closer to you and Alexandra, and the darkness took her away."

Another deep, shuddering breath before she continued. This time, her voice was almost a dead whisper.

"Then a gun comes out of nowhere and aims at your head. Suddenly you're on your knees and telling me to take that God-awful shot. Why'd you tell me to take that shot?" she asked him, and for the first time he really heard how broken she sounded. She turned to face him and her brown eyes were filled with tears.

"If you killed him, you would've gotten away," he whispered.

"I couldn't take the shot, not then. And not in my dream, either. Then you're dead and Alexandra is dead and everyone around me is dead and I couldn't save them and I'm always reminded of how I couldn't save them…" she rambled on and Elliot pulled her into an embrace.

She buried her face in the crook between his neck and his shoulder and let her tears stain his shirt.

"Shh…" He rocked back and forth, listening to her cry and wanting nothing more than to send her someplace where nothing more could hurt her. "It's all right, it was just a dream, a bad dream."

"It's not just a dream, Elliot. It's a reality," she mumbled into his shoulder and he pressed his face into her hair, kissing the top of her head.

Maybe, to be perfectly honest, a few tears of his own blended with hers that night as he stayed up with her until morning, rocking and holding and being there, just as she had never had someone be there for her before.