a/n: the last one was kinda short and cruel. To make up for it, here's a bit longer, and no dream fake outs :)
Ed found her in the kitchen.
Olivia was taking care to be extra quiet since it was barely 6am. Noah wouldn't be up for at least half an hour, maybe longer.
He gave himself a proverbial pat on the back for his earlier performance. He'd known the minute she'd woken up. He'd felt her stiffen next to him. He knew her well enough to let her think she'd gotten away without detection.
He also knew that he'd almost fucked it all up by groping her in his half-dream, half-drugged state. That's why it had surprised him all the more when she'd agreed to share the bed for the night.
He'd been floored. Then, as soon as she'd said okay, she'd excused herself to the bathroom. He'd honestly believed that when she came out, she'd make an excuse to sleep in the living room. Every minute that ticked by, he'd grown more and more certain that's what was working up the nerve to do. After a long ten minutes, she'd returned.
She'd wordlessly helped him into some boxers, being ever so careful to avoid seeing or touching him too intimately. He'd wisely remained mute throughout the process, afraid that if he said anything or made any sudden movement she'd startle like a deer in headlights and retreat again.
He had not been surprised that when she finally climbed into the bed next to him and left enough space for the proverbial elephant that was still in the room between them.
He'd slept okay for the most part, but every time she moved, he woke, scared she was leaving. Each time, he'd slowly relaxed when he realized she was just moving in her sleep.
By morning she'd been pressed against his good side. He hadn't had the courage to move and get his arm around her. Instead, she slept with her cheek on his shoulder pinning his arm against his body. Even in her slumber, she'd managed to somehow be cognizant of his injuries and where to avoid. That meant she was in what must have been a slightly uncomfortable position.
That's probably why she woke early, physical and emotional discomfort. It was obviously the latter that worried him most. When she'd left, he'd assumed she was going back out to the couch to catch another hour of sleep, but then he'd heard the faint sounds of her in the kitchen.
His body was stiff, but he was becoming more and more mobile each day. So he pulled himself out of bed, slowly, and quietly padded toward the kitchen.
Now, he stood, just a few steps out of her line of sight while she puttered around the kitchen. The soft glow of the microwave surface light was the only illumination. He loved morning, slightly bedhead Olivia, in any light.
Ed was dressed in blue plaid boxers and his matching blue t-shirt. He'd forgone the hoodie, because he was a little warm, but more so because he knew this was one of her favorite t-shirts. She'd always said she liked it because it brought out his eyes and was soft. He'd had always liked the shirt because it was comfortable and it fit. But there was something about Olivia Benson telling you she liked something you wore that made you want to never wear anything else.
The fact that she'd packed it for him only made him more certain that he was right in his understanding of her conflicted reactions to him over the past few days. Last night could have been a major setback. He hated to ever be the cause for the look he saw in her eyes for a brief moment when he'd first woken from his dream.
He'd been put at ease when she finally came to get into bed. As he thought back to the last couple days, he realized that her panic was likely less about any perceived threat and more about what it meant for them.
That was fair. He'd spent much of that time and effort trying to keep some semblance of boundaries, for both of their sakes.
That was over. Boundaries be damned.
Olivia obviously wasn't going to make the first conciliation. Being the one to take the first step gave the other the power to crush. If he bucked up and took the risk, it gave her the control. At first that was Ed's worst fear, but now he realized that it didn't matter. She already owned him, heart and soul. Maybe him admitting it was what she needed to hear.
"I can practically hear you thinking over there." Olivia's voice was still a bit low and full of sleep, but it dragged him from his thoughts. She turned. "You gonna join me or keeping staring?"
He blushed at being caught, but it was due to the thoughts in his head more so than being caught watching her. He stopped at the barstools and slid onto one, needing to get off his feet.
"Coffee's on," she said. "Want some juice or water? You need your pills?"
He could feel a shift in her. It was subtle, but she was more present and maybe even a little less walled off than he'd seen her in months.
"You got any grapefruit juice?" He asked, patting his chest for the meds in his pocket. Then he realized his mistake in leaving the hoodie, he'd left himself pocket-less and therefore medicine-less.
Olivia made a face at "grapefruit juice," but then she turned toward the fridge and grabbed a small, unopened liter of juice.
His eyes lit up when he saw the container. It was his favorite brand. Ed knew she hated grapefruit juice and had only kept it in the house when he'd been around, so he was surprised she had any, much less the kind that she'd once scoffed at as "the five dollar bottle of yuck."
She saw his reaction."I bought it when I went to pack your things." She twisted off the cap and set it next to him before getting a small glass from the cabinet behind her.
He was oddly overcome by her simple gesture to ensure his comfort, but it grew his confidence, incrementally. "Thanks," was all he could manage to say. That was what she did to him.
Fortunately, he didn't have to come up with anything more. She left him to pour his juice in silence as she headed back to the bedroom to get his meds.
He half expected her to wake Noah just to avoid being alone with him, so he was relieved when she appeared within seconds and set the prescription bottle on the counter in front of him.
"Thanks," he said again. He saw the flex of her jaw as she walked past him. He felt a flash of doubt, but he pushed it down. He'd be foolish to think any of this would be simple, but he'd be even more of a fool not to try.
"I'm sorry," she said out of the blue, while busying herself with getting a couple mugs from the cabinet along with some milk and sugar. Neither of them even used sugar in their coffee, but she seemed to need the distraction. "I hope I didn't bother… I hope I didn't keep you awake last night."
"Olivia," he said, doing his best to keep his voice neutral. "You could never bother me."
She stilled at the opposite counter. Her back was to him, which was unnerving. He needed to see her face to make sure he was doing the right thing by pushing this.
"I meant what I said," he continued anyway. "You, next to me. That's all I want. Asleep or awake."
Ed could see her shoulders creep up with tension, and he cursed his body for not allowing him to jump up from his seat and go to her. Instead, he eased off the barstool, unable to prevent the sound of the small exertion from escaping his throat.
Hearing his grunt, Olivia turned.
"Ed." She instinctively stepped toward him to offer assistance. "Your stitches."
"I don't care about the stitches." He was slow, but determined, as he closed the distance between them.
"Ed." It was becoming a mantra, half protest, half pleading. She stepped back.
He took another step. She backed into the counter.
"Olivia." He took another two steps, putting him within range, but not too imposing. She could still easily sidestep him if she wanted.
She remained rooted to the spot, studying him.
Ed set aside all reservations and moved fully into her space. He wasn't touching her, but he was close enough that their body heat mingled.
She looked down and leaned away from him, gripping the counter on either side of her hips.
"Olivia." He started to reach for her and almost second guessed himself. When he noticed that she was holding her breath in anticipation, he reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, lightly brushing her cheek with his thumb.
"What do you want?" Her voice was tight.
"It used to be so easy for us," Ed said ruefully. He let his hand fall to her shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze.
She slowly breathed out through pursed lips but otherwise didn't show any reaction.
He continued tracing a path down the back of her arm toward her elbow. The slight pressure of his fingertips coaxing her to let him in, but not just into her physical space. They both knew he was asking for everything.
"I think we could get back to a place that's even better than before."
"How?" She didn't budge.
"Trust me." His hand had almost reached hers, and he skimmed his fingers across her wrist causing her to inhale sharply.
"You know I do." She did. She hoped he knew that.
"Do you really?"
Her head remained mostly bowed, but she looked up just enough that he could see her frown at his question. She still hadn't let go of the countertop.
"Do you trust me completely?" Ed rubbed his thumb over her pinky.
"I know that I can."
"That's not the same thing," he began to worry that she would never fully let him in again.
"I know," Olivia said.
"Where does that leave us?" It was taking everything in him to keep a calm façade and not show his own panic that he might still lose this battle. No, it wasn't a battle was afraid of losing. Her. He was afraid of losing her.
"I don't know." She glanced in the direction of his hand on hers.
"Can you try?" He asked.
Deep breath. No response.
"I love you, Olivia," he said making his voice as soft and steady as possible. "And, I know you still love me."
"Ed." She tucked her head even further into her chest.
He leaned forward and rested his temple against hers his palm still lightly brushing the back of her hand.
"Tell me I'm not wrong about that?" Now, he was the one choking the words out.
She breathed deeply, almost causing her chest to bump his. He could feel the tension pouring off of her, and decided that maybe he needed to give her some space, let his words sink in. Let her process.
Ed was about to step back, when he felt Olivia shift.
He held still trying to anticipate her next move.
She didn't look at him. She didn't say a word.
Instead, she relaxed the tension in her arm and let her hand almost fall off the edge of the counter into his waiting grip. It was the simplest of gestures, but it was all he needed.
He squeezed her hand and wrapped his left arm around her shoulders pulling her toward him. This time she offered no resistance, and ever so slowly, he felt the tension leaving her body.
"I can't do this." She said. Her chin digging into his shoulder with each word.
He started to launch into a counter argument, but she sank into him even more giving him pause. Her body was sending completely opposite signals from her words. "Liv." He wasn't sure what to say to convince her.
"I can't do this," she repeated, turning her face into his neck. "Unless, I know it's gonna work this time."
He nodded against her hair, and finally let go of her hand. With both arms, he pulled her as close as he could get her.
"It'll be okay," Ed said. "Just trust me."
Olivia's feet bumped against his as she fully returned his embrace. Her heart beat fast against his chest. And once again, she righted his world with a single word.
"Okay."