Disclaimer 1: If only they were mine, alas, they belong to Mr Wolf.
Disclaimer 2: I'm doing my best with the medical stuff, please don't take my interpretation as best or only way to treat NHL. While I'm trying to make it as close as I can, some of it is done for the sake of the story. Also, there may be misinformation but that is intentional and will be revealed throughout the story. I've Googled all medical information and consulted reputatable sites, so, having said all that... here it is...
Dedicated to my beautiful state of Victoria, devastated by the horror of February 7th, the souls lost and the tragic destruction.
The magic update number was 940, thank you so much, so here we go again...Okay, here's the deal with this one...after posting rapidly (as I'm sure you'll agree) I have used up my stockpile of chapters as this one makes 36 chapters in 4 months (That's an average of 9 per month). I do have the next chapter half done but I either have to start setting higher review targets or just ask for your patience... not sure which one I'll have more luck with. So, I'm sure you can figure out my next target number ...which amazes me that I'm anywhere near it... the next update may be awhile (for me anyway...like maybe next week) but I'm sure you'll forgive me by the end of this chapter.
Sitting alone in a darkened garden with her coffee and a sandwich she was sure had been made last week, Olivia called Elliot.
"What was wrong earlier?" he asked, after greetings had been exchanged.
"Dickie was a little upset and he didn't want you to know," she reported, with a sigh, her fatigue sapping every last ounce of energy she had.
"What was he upset about?" Elliot asked, wishing he could be there for his son, and for his wife.
"Kathy mainly," she replied. "He misses her and needs her to be with him. I guess he was thinking she wouldn't come back to see him."
"Well, she is," he said. "Can't get a flight til late tomorrow so she won't see him til Sunday."
"So, I guess I should pack up our things at the house before then," Olivia said, wondering where she was going to get the time, let alone the energy, to do it.
"Leave it until next week," he responded. "I'll be able to do it, or at least help you."
"We'll see," she sighed. It wasn't that she didn't want his help; she just wanted to be gone from the house before Kathy returned.
"Am I going to see you tonight?" he asked, dreading the answer he figured was coming.
"Sorry, babe," she replied. "Dickie needs me to stay here. I hope that's okay."
"Yeah, I'll miss not seeing you but since I've monopolised a lot of your time lately, it's only fair that I share you now," he answered, his heart heavy.
"That's very noble of you," Olivia said, tossing most of her sandwich into the trash.
"I'm a wonderful guy," he replied with a laugh. "God, I wish I was there with you," he said, turning serious.
"I wish you were here too," she sighed. "Actually, I wish everyone was home, healthy and tucked up in bed."
"Me too," Elliot agreed. "Especially because then I'd have you all to myself and we could re-enact some more of the 'special' moments from our honeymoon."
"Well, if we do that again with kids in the house then we'll need to get them some earplugs because, as Dickie informs me, 'the walls are soundproof'," she reported wearily.
"He what?" Elliot choked.
"He was a bit drowsy, don't know if he even realised he was saying it aloud," Olivia said, before downing the rest of her cold coffee.
"You sound drowsy yourself," he said. "Are you going to get some sleep tonight?"
"God, I hope so," she sighed, her eyes prickling with the tears she was desperately fighting.
Whoever said hospitals were places to rest were liars, Olivia declared, when her sleep was interrupted yet again at some ungodly hour of the morning. Heading to the bathroom, she couldn't remember ever feeling so bad before – not with the endless days working a case, not when she had the flu, not even when she had a hangover. Studying herself in the mirror, she saw the large dark circles under her eyes and her pale skin, highlighted by the unflattering fluorescent lighting above her.
After using the toilet, Olivia flushed it and turned to open the door, grabbing the wall as her head spun. Sitting down once more, she hung her head between her knees, hoping to stop the dizziness before it spread to her stomach. It didn't help and soon she was vomiting what little she had in her stomach into the toilet bowl.
Feeling a little better after she had rinsed out her mouth and washed her face, Olivia put the experience down to the near inedible sandwich and returned to Dickie's room. Hoping desperately for a couple of hours of sleep, Olivia was sure it would make her feel better, or at least a little more human.
Three hours was all she got but she was thankful, it was the most she'd had since Sunday night, since she never really slept through Elliot's treatment week. Usually she was listening for any indication he wasn't well or that he needed her.
Leaving Dickie as he ate his breakfast, Olivia headed to the house to shower and change. While she was there she packed most of their things that were in Maureen's bedroom into a couple of bags and set them in the hallway. Stripping the bed and depositing the bed linen into the laundry, Olivia hoped Maureen wouldn't mind her not remaking the bed.
Her next stop was to the bathroom to collect their toiletries. Again, Olivia needed to sit down, her head and stomach dancing around once more. It wasn't so much nausea, just a really off feeling and Olivia hoped she could keep it all together, at least until she'd seen Elliot and hopefully headed home for a few hours of uninterrupted slumber.
Despite her best plans, Olivia only made it to the hospital corridor, two rooms from Elliot's, before she collapsed. Hearing the commotion, Elliot thought it was some patient in the next room and hoped all went well, but then he heard Connie's voice call Olivia's name and his blood ran cold.
Jumping from the bed, he raced to the scene, dropping to his knees beside his still unconscious wife.
"Olivia! Liv!" he called, patting her face. "Baby, wake up," he pleaded. "What's wrong with her?" he asked, turning to Connie.
"I'd say she's collapsed, probably from exhaustion," Connie said, taking Elliot's arm. "They're going to take her down to Emergency and run some tests. I'll go with her..."
"I'm coming too," Elliot said, moving back as an orderly arrived with a gurney.
"That's probably not a good move, Elliot," she said taking his arm and pulling him back as Olivia was loaded onto the bed. "You are susceptible to any bug that may be down there."
"Like I give a shit about that," he retorted.
"You're also not well yourself," she added.
"Connie, she's my wife and ..." he began.
"Okay, I'll make a deal with you," Connie interjected, deciding to compromise. "I will take her down and get it all started and come back and get you."
"Okay," Elliot conceded, knowing there wasn't much he could do for her while she was still unconscious.
By the time Connie came to collect Elliot, he'd pulled on some sweats and was sitting waiting on the side of his bed.
"I'm not using that!" he said in disgust as Connie appeared pushing a wheelchair.
"You are," she replied firmly. "You are still a patient – "
"I'll sign myself out," he interjected.
"I'm sure Olivia will be so pleased," she replied, knowing that she was his Achilles heel. "Besides, I've spoken to the doctor down there and explained your situation and he said you could be there, so long as you cooperated, were in a wheelchair and were accompanied by a nurse. So, if you can cooperate, I can do the rest."
"Fine," he muttered, getting into the chair. "Thanks," he added, knowing she was doing the best for him.
Before they exited the elevator, Elliot had donned a surgical mask to try and prevent him picking up some bug or other. Again he had protested, but Connie had simply explained the logistics of Olivia being able to care for herself, Dickie and Elliot in her current state and, once again, Elliot had conceded immediately.
For the first thirty minutes of Olivia's stay in the emergency department, she was in a trauma room and Connie and Elliot stayed in the corner, trying hard to keep out of the way of the staff attending to her. After monitors were hooked up, the IV attached, and blood drawn, Elliot was allowed to sit by her bed and hold her hand whilst they waited for the pathology results. Caressing her head and whispering endless sweet things, declaring his love repeatedly and begging her to wake up, Elliot was a picture of loving devotion.
"I'm going to see how close we are to getting results," Connie said, patting his shoulder. "You are not to go anywhere or do anything that will get you in trouble with Olivia or me in trouble with my boss, okay?"
"Yeah, I won't be going anywhere," he promised, squeezing Olivia's hand. "Connie," he called as she pushed open the doors. "Thanks for everything. I...we... appreciate it."
In his seven uninterrupted minutes with his wife, Elliot pulled down his mask and stood beside her so he could look at her properly.
"Come on, baby," he whispered, tears choking his voice. "You have to wake up for me...please," he begged, raking his fingers through her hair. "I know you're tired, honey, but just open your eyes for me, just for a minute ... just let me know you're okay." There was still no response.
As tears welled and his heart grew heavier, he leant down and kissed her head. "I'm so sorry, Livia," he cried, clasping her hand. "I should never have let you get this exhausted. I'm sorry, baby, so, so sorry."
Wiping his face as Connie returned with the doctor, an orderly and another piece of equipment, Elliot stepped back and sat in the wheelchair, not wanting to impede their work on Olivia.
"She's going to be okay," Connie soothed, rubbing his arm as she came to stand with him.
"Yeah? Do they know what's wrong with her? Or why she hasn't woken up yet?" he asked, looking up at his nurse with pleading eyes.
"They have a fair idea," she replied with half a smile.
"Yeah? Is it serious?" he queried, watching as the doctor looked again at her chart before he walked over to Elliot.
"Now, Elliot," the young doctor began, drawing up a stool and sitting in front of him. "I've been talking to Connie about your condition and ..."
"She's sick because of me? Was it the chemo stuff? We did use protection when we had sex. Did that do it?" The questions spewed out without anyone having a chance to answer.
"Okay, okay," the doctor said, patting Elliot's hand. "Let me start again... the blood tests revealed that your wife is pregnant and given the treatments you've been having it's important for us to know when she conceived and whether the baby is at risk of damage. Now, I spoke to Connie and she informed me that Olivia actually thought she was pregnant about two months ago. Is that right?"
"Yes," Elliot confirmed with a nod. "And, just so you know, we didn't have sex from the time the chemo started until we got married two weeks ago."
"Well, it looks like your wife was actually pregnant when she thought she was. Has she been feeling unwell, gaining weight?" the doctor asked.
"She's been very tired and a little off now and then but nothing like morning sickness in recent times. She has gained weight but she put it down to some decent home cooking and no time for the gym," Elliot reported, wheeling himself back to Olivia's side. "Is she really pregnant?" He looked from the doctor to Connie to Olivia.
"Yes," he said with a smile. "We're going to do an ultrasound and take a peek to see what's happening in there – and to get an accurate measure of how far along she is."
"When will she wake up?" Elliot asked, thrilled about the baby but more concerned his wife was still unconscious.
"I think it's sheer exhaustion and, once she is hydrated and rested, she'll wake. Her blood pressure is a little high and blood sugar a little low, but we'll get it balanced soon. Are you ready to see your child?" the doctor asked, pulling the sheet down and Olivia's top up.
Squeezing the gel tube, the doctor left dollops of cold goo on her slightly rounded belly and started the machine. After moving the wand, around the image of a tiny Benson – Stabler came into view.
"And there he or she is," the doctor announced. Taking some quick measurements, he smiled at Elliot. "Your wife was quite right, she is pregnant. Her OBGYN will give you a definitive answer but I'd say she is about 14 weeks pregnant. Congratulations!"
Standing up, Elliot caressed Olivia's face before kissing her forehead.
"Wake up, Livia," he said quietly. "Wake up and see our baby."
There were a few murmurs from her but nothing to indicate she'd heard him.
"I need to go," the doctor said. "But I can leave the monitor here for a while longer with this picture freeze framed."
"Thanks, doc," Elliot replied.
.
Once the doctor and technician had departed, Connie patted his shoulder.
"I might just go get some coffee and give you a few minutes, okay?" she said.
'Yeah, thanks, Connie," he replied, taking his eyes off his wife long enough to look at his nurse. "Ah, Connie..." he said hesitantly as she reached the door.
"Yes, Elliot," she replied, walking back to him.
"There's something I don't quite get," he said, looking back to his wife.
"What's that?" she asked, stopping beside him.
"After Liv thought she was pregnant...during my second round of treatment... she got her period – how's that possible? You don't get your period when you're pregnant. Kathy never did. She hasn't had it since, but still..." He stopped talking when Olivia started to stir, but she didn't wake.
"Olivia would have had what she thought was her period. It's actually decidual bleeding and can occur in the first trimester," Connie explained quietly.
"Wouldn't she know the difference?" he asked glancing at his nurse.
"No, most women don't. It presents the same and, if you don't already know you're pregnant, you put it down to your period. Olivia's cycle hasn't been regular, so she had no reason to think it was anything else...and then when her doctor confirmed a negative result...well..." Connie's voice trailed as Elliot looked oddly at her. "What?"
"How do you know? About Liv and her cycle, I mean..." he asked, he should be the one that knew that. In all their years as partners he thought he had become an expert in all things pertaining to Olivia Benson.
"She told me... when we were talking during that treatment cycle and she thought she was pregnant, we talked about all sorts of things," Connie replied.
"About that negative result," he said, "You reckon it was just a mistake?"
"Probably a mix-up at the lab," she answered. "It happens more often than people want to admit."
"Any way to trace the blood? See what went wrong?" he asked, his fingers lacing with Olivia's.
"I'm not sure. Why? Connie asked, leaning on the bed.
"We're both detectives, we're never happy unless we have all the answers," he said with a smile. "Besides, Olivia's gonna have 101 questions and I'm gonna need the answers."
"Well," Connie started slowly. "How about I get Mark to phone her doctor and start asking the questions for you."
"Mark?" Elliot questioned.
"Mark Franklin, the doctor who was just here," she said, smiling.
"Oh yeah, must admit I didn't pay too much attention to his name..." Elliot said, glancing back at his wife.
"That's okay," replied Connie. "You had other things on your mind.
"He's very young, isn't he?" he asked.
"He's 34, just looks younger. And he's very good, in case you're wondering," she replied.
"Oh, you seem to know a lot about the doctor," Elliot replied with a grin.
"That, Elliot," she started. "Is because he is my cousin. I wouldn't leave you guys in the hands of just anybody."
"Thanks, Connie. I'm glad we've got you," Elliot replied, reaching out and patting Connie's arm. "I have no idea how we would have gotten through the last months without you."
"You're welcome," she replied. "Now, I'm going for coffee before you say anything else so sweet."
.
With Connie gone, Elliot stood up beside his wife and framed her face with his hands before holding it in front of his.
"Olivia Benson-Stabler," he growled in a low voice. "Enough is enough, you need to wake up and it needs to be now."
"Mmm wake," came the mumbled reply.
"Liv! Olivia!" he called, patting her face. "C'mon baby, open your eyes."
"...zopen..." she murmured as her eyelids twitched.
"Actually open them, Liv," he ordered quietly. "Open them and look at me...please."
It took a few minutes, but finally Olivia's eyes opened and Elliot could finally look into the deep chocolate pools he adored, though he wasn't sure just how well she could see him in her sleepy haze.
"Thank god," he muttered, kissing her forehead. "I'm so glad you're awake."
"Was I...sleep?" she asked, just managing to string her words together.
"You were," he confirmed. "But now you're awake."
"So tired..." she sighed. "Not sleep long."
"You were asleep forever," he replied. While it was just under an hour since she had collapsed it felt like an eternity.
"Need sleep more," she said as her eyes drifted closed once more.
"No, no, Liv, no," he said, patting her cheek. "Open your eyes; I need you to see something."
"What?" she asked, struggling to open her eyes once more.
Slowly he turned her face to the monitor and took her finger to point at the screen.
"Livia, honey, this is our baby," he said, his eyes filling with tears.
"Our baby?" she repeated, her eyes trying to focus on the screen.
"Yes, our baby," he confirmed. "You were right all along..." He took her hand and placed it on her belly. "Baby was in there all along."
"Baby?" she repeated, the fog not clearing quick enough.
"That's right," he said, kissing her forehead. "We're going to have a baby."
"Really?" she questioned, her hand coming up to cup his face.
"Really," he confirmed. "I love you so much, Olivia."
"Love you too, El," she replied, gazing at him before looking back to the screen. "That's our baby."
"That's right," he said kissing her temple.
"El..." she called, turning back to look at him, her eyes so heavy. "Does this mean I'm pregnant?"
"Yes, Liv," he chuckled, "You're pregnant."
"Good," she mumbled as she drifted back into the abyss.
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