A/N: Phew! This is the longest chapter yet, I think, so hopefully that makes up for the long wait! Thanks for your patience, it's been hard to put together the final installments of this one, but hopefully it will all be worth it for all of us. Another reason for the long hiatus was that my muse has been whispering ideas for a possible sequel, entire scenes and an overall theme that could be the natural next step after the end of the cycle we're seeing here. But of course, only after BP is completed will it be possible to assess the need and relevance of taking the alternate universe created here any further. As always, I look forward to and appreciate your feedback!
23 - CHOOSE HEARTBREAK
She just kept rushing out, running away from him. He knew she was scared – and frankly, so was he. Did she think any of this wasn't as new to him as it was to her? Left behind in the locker room at the precinct long after Olivia had left in a hurry to get rid of him, Elliot considered everything she had said, her reasons for wanting things to go back to how they used to be.
We both need to go home and rest, please don't do anything stupid before you do that, she had pleaded, claiming he needed to think before making any decisions about his marriage, but she didn't know how made up Kathy's mind already was, how she had expected him with his stuff packed, how she never really sat down to have a conversation with him and instead just handed him his stuff and told him she would be filing for divorce, no tears, no fight, no accusations. Sadness, of course, over the end of something so important in her life but, if she'd had doubts about whether that was the right course of action that first time, like he knew she had, now she seemed absolutely certain and at peace with her decision.
Elliot wondered how he would have reacted if she had said she was willing to overlook his slip and give their marriage another chance. Would he have agreed to that? Would he have had the courage to turn it down? He hadn't been expecting that at all, of course; he knew she was already considering ending it even before she knew about his night with Olivia, but he had expected a long conversation, especially because she had arranged sleepovers at friends for both Elizabeth and Dickie, but she had acted like there was nothing to talk about, and he had accepted that. He hadn't prepared anything to say, he had expected her to dictate the talking points and planned to just respond to them, to follow her script, but she didn't want any explanations, she just wanted the formality, the official resolution, the verbal confirmation that it was over on both sides.
He had to admit it was easy to say it was over with her saying it first. If she hadn't, maybe he wouldn't be acting like this, pulling Olivia aside to notify her he was free to pursue something with her, pointing at his suitcase as though it was proof or guarantee of anything, acting like there was nothing to think about, nothing to decide. Maybe, if he had to be the one to take the initiative to move out, it wouldn't have been this quick, like ripping a band-aid. When he as much as looked at Olivia or thought of her, he had no doubt that she was what he wanted, but that didn't make walking away from his marriage any easier. Maybe if Kathy hadn't made her mind up, he would be avoiding the issue as well, maybe he would be running too. He couldn't judge Olivia. Not for being confused and certainly not for doubting whether he was really going to leave Kathy.
It's not too late, she can still take you back. Elliot doubted it. And even if she did, was that all he was supposed to expect from life? For Kathy to "take him back," for them to "try again," like they'd been doing since Eli had come along? Was that all he and Kathy deserved, just because they had kids together? Was growing up with parents trying so hard to stay together really the best thing for the baby, or for any of their other children, for that matter? If it had to be a decision, if it had to be an effort… How was that the best for anyone? And yet, if she were to actually say she was willing to take him back, he didn't know with absolute certainty that he wouldn't try yet again. It was too much to walk away from.
You have to tell her it was this case, how fucked up it was. And it had been, Kathy wouldn't be able to even begin to understand how much if he tried to explain. It had unveiled everything that had always been kept secret between him and Olivia, hidden even from themselves, it had forced them to deal with things they had avoided for so long, it had made all the best hidden shit hit the fan, thrown salt in every wound, magnified every tiny detail so carefully kept out of sight. But the truth was that all of it was already there. The case had certainly wreaked havoc, created absolute chaos in their lives, but only by changing the configuration of the pieces that had always been there in the first place.
I'm not gonna let you ruin your life just because you're feeling guilty, Olivia had also said. Could she be right? He was so sure about his feelings, but what if guilt had fueled them somehow, engorged them into something bigger than they actually were? Maybe the possibility of losing her had messed with his head even more than he realized. What the hell was he doing? He looked at the suitcase right next to his locker and it hit him hard: it was happening all over again: moving out, getting a place, missing his kids, negotiating custody, visits, weekends. Feeling guilty, feeling like he was walking away from his responsibility, abandoning his family.
But he did love Olivia. That was a fact, and if his marriage couldn't exist in the same reality where that fact was true and known to all, then it was over regardless of what he ever decided to do about his feelings for her or his wife. So yes, he definitely felt guilty over many things, but that was not the reason he had told Olivia he loved her. She had assumed he had said that on a whim in the back of the bus, in the immediate aftermath of everything that had happened and everything he had just been forced to do to her, out of guilt, but she was wrong.
And still, he had to admit that, even though he had acknowledged his feelings before that, it had been in that beach house that he had been forced to actually think about so many things, actually face all the truths that came from knowing he had those feelings, not only in the moments when he had been afraid he might lose her for good or the moments when he'd had to hurt her with his own words and hands, but also with the conversations Downey had led with both of them. Confronting all of that had taken him a step further from owning up to his feelings for Olivia, it had opened his eyes to the responsibility he had towards her, the responsibility of fulfilling needs she had never let anyone realize she had, most of all him.
But maybe those needs didn't exactly include what he was thinking, it occurred to him then. He had seen how she could be vulnerable, fragile, how he could have been there for her in a more meaningful way several times instead of letting her convince him she was fine, how she felt lonely sometimes and probably missed having a physical connection to someone close, someone she cared about and who cared about her too, but none of that necessarily meant that she was in love with him. Maybe he had read her wrong, and she didn't really feel the same way. Maybe what he had seen and felt from her was only her fragility and her inability, under extreme duress and the influence of drugs, to hide it from him any longer. Maybe it had been the curiosity over the physical attraction that had never been addressed, the deep connection between them and the lingering question of whether it might ever become something more than that.
Maybe it was like she had told Downey, Elliot considered; maybe her attachment to him had only stemmed from the fact that he had been the most dependable relationship in her life for quite a while. Maybe, in the light of day, a relationship with him wasn't what she wanted. Maybe, in real life, when the time came to commit, this was a step she wasn't ready or just wasn't really willing to take. Maybe their dependable, predictable partnership was so crucial to her that it needed to be kept exactly as it was; maybe she regretted having made love to him, maybe she wished this had never turned into a sexual thing at all. Maybe she was right and he was making a mistake; maybe he had rushed into this.
The only thing he knew for sure he had right now was this suitcase; Kathy was already lost, and maybe Olivia had never really been a tangible possibility. Could he be losing both Olivia and Kathy, then his kids, his family, his whole life as he knew it? He hadn't really stopped to think about this. If he had, he might have realized this wasn't an either-or situation, that getting divorced didn't necessarily mean he would start a relationship with Olivia. If neither of them wanted him, what was he supposed to do with himself? He had been there once, abandoned by the both of them, when Kathy had first filed for divorce and Olivia had gone undercover for the FBI. He didn't know that he could do it again.
Elliot allowed himself to imagine for a moment what it would have been like if none of it had happened; if the case hadn't come along, if he hadn't kissed Olivia that first night, the first spark that had resulted in such an earth-shattering fire. How long would he have gone on like that, balancing Kathy and Olivia in his life without ever really consciously addressing his true feelings for either of them? Both he and Kathy had been wondering if they had done the right thing by getting back together, but would they ever have told each other about it? It was a comfortable life for the both of them, he doubted either of them would have taken the initiative to change anything about it – unless that supposedly accidental kiss had been his unconscious way of taking the initiative. In that case, maybe it would have all happened one way or another.
All of those thoughts kept swirling around in his head, like water circling the drain, coming from separate faucets but inevitably mixing together to end up in the same place. Confused as he got at times thinking about all of those variables, what it all came down to was that his marriage was over, and he was in love with Olivia – and willing to go for it. Whatever his or her doubts were, he knew he had to try. Now that he had confronted his feelings for her, there was no way to unsee what he'd seen. And she had seen something too, deep down he knew that. He wanted to give her space to figure out what she wanted, so he had let her run away from him, he hadn't forced his presence upon her, but he didn't want to leave her alone to deal with everything she had been through either, this was exactly the kind of thing she wasn't supposed to have to endure on her own.
When his phone started ringing, the screen lit up showing who was calling as well as the time, which he saw first, making him realize he had been sitting there in the locker room for over an hour, thinking and staring at his suitcase. Upon seeing the caller ID, he couldn't help the feeling of familiarity at the sight of those letters assembled in such a particular way: Kathy. Maybe she wanted to reconsider; could that be the reason she was calling? If so, what was he supposed to do? How was he going to react? Before the whole repertoire of conflicting thoughts restarted playing in his head, he picked up, determined to face whatever was on the other side.
"Take a seat," Kathy said dryly after asking Olivia if she wanted a drink and barely waiting for her refusal to sit down herself. She had agreed to let her in, but it looked like she wanted to speed up the visit as much as possible. "What is it you wanted to tell me?"
"I just think you're rushing into this," Olivia said hesitantly, unsure whether she should sit down or not; she didn't want to wear out her welcome, so she wanted to make it clear that all she intended was to deliver her message and be on her way. "I don't know what Elliot told you…"
"He told me everything," Kathy said, calm, staring at her from the couch where she sat, with her legs crossed and her hands together on top of her knee.
She motioned again for Olivia to sit down, and she did, reluctantly, feeling instantly awkward for not having sat down when she had first been told to. She couldn't stand to look at Kathy in the eye for very long either; she wished she would elaborate on what everything entailed, but she didn't, and she dared not ask her to.
"Well," Olivia said, clearing her throat. "It was a mistake, and I want you to know nothing's going to come of it. I'm really sorry, I was not myself, I was having a hard time dealing with the case and I was being dosed with amphetamines." As she spoke, she threw tentative looks at Kathy, which were always met with the same expression of apathy. "I don't mean to make excuses for myself, I just want you to know I would never have allowed anything to happen if…"
"It's okay, Olivia," Kathy shook her head, closing her eyes, signaling with her hand for her to stop talking. "You don't have to explain anything. To be honest, I don't give a shit about how or why it happened."
Olivia looked down, shaking her head, chastising herself; of course Kathy wouldn't want to hear about any details. "I'm sorry," she rushed to say. "Of course you don't, I just… You shouldn't leave him because of this… That's what I'm trying to say."
Kathy smiled, a sad smile, Olivia reckoned. "I'm not leaving him," she clarified. "This is mutual."
Olivia shook her head vehemently. "That's exactly my point, he doesn't know what he's doing," she argued. "He's feeling guilty, and confused, he's not thinking straight. Sooner or later he's going to realize this is a huge mistake..."
Kathy's chuckling interrupted Olivia; she was biting her lip and shaking her head when Olivia looked up at her, puzzled, having a hard time understanding what could be funny. "God, you're worse than him," she said, standing up.
"Kathy…" Olivia protested, looking up before she reluctantly stood up as well. It seemed like Kathy wanted to end the conversation right then and there, but Olivia couldn't let that happen; she needed to get through to her, open her eyes. "I can't even imagine how you must be feeling, and I'm so sorry," she went on. "I'm so sorry you got hurt like this, but you need to think about your kids. Your baby," she emphasized, with a half-smile. "Baby Eli, he needs you two together. You know that." she shook her head, emphatically, then nodded, putting her hands together and forcing an encouraging smile. Kathy didn't seem at all affected by her pleas, but she had to do something; this was the last thing she would ever have wanted to happen, and she was willing to do anything to fix it. "Everything's really confusing right now, and I'm on mandatory leave, but I had already decided: I'm going to request to be transferred," she promised. "I need a change anyway. I will not be a problem, I promise you, I'll be out of your lives in no time."
Olivia didn't realize tears were streaming down her face until one of them reached her trembling lips, the salty taste not acting as the best medicine for the lump in her throat. To her surprise, Kathy walked towards her, her expression for the first time giving any indication she might be starting to falter in her stonewalling act.
"You're right," she whispered. "It hurts. I thought it wouldn't hurt this much, because I'd made peace with the fact that my marriage was over and that it had been a mistake to try again, but it hurts like a bitch." Kathy's eyes started watering. "It hurts to know that I was right… All those years. That I wasn't just being paranoid."
"Kathy, nothing had ever happened…" Olivia guaranteed, but Kathy didn't let her finish.
"It doesn't make any difference!" she yelled, making Olivia jump. Then, she smiled as a tear fell down. She shook her head and lowered her voice again. "It doesn't change the fact that he's been in love with you for years, and I knew. It doesn't alleviate my guilt for being the reason he couldn't be happy with the person he actually wanted to be with while he was stuck with me. It doesn't make me feel any less angry at the fact that no matter how hard I try, I can't hate you. Or him. It doesn't change the fact that I pretended I didn't see it, that a part of me knew all along that he was lying to himself, just like you're doing right now."
"You don't understand…" was Olivia's weak, tearful, unconvincing protest.
"Please, stop!" Kathy demanded, determined, sniffing and drying her tears with her sleeve. "You're not going to patch up my marriage this time, so stop trying to hide behind it. It's over! If you want me to absolve you of your guilt over it, I'm sorry, I can't do that. If you want me to give you my blessing, sorry, can't do that either. It is what it is. You can get transferred and disappear, I don't care, it won't make any difference to me. If you want to continue in denial, knock yourself out, but you'll have to find another excuse. It's all I'm asking. If you think you owe me something, then do this for me: keep me out of this from now on."
"Please…" Olivia breathed, trying with all her might to come up with an argument, anything at all to say and keep everything from falling apart around her, but she couldn't, and as the seconds of silence went by, she became more and more desperate, the tears more profuse. She needed to say something, do something to fix this, but it was slipping from her fingers. She realized she was now sobbing noisily, and she tried with little success to muffle it by taking both hands to her face. Kathy looked down so as not to embarrass her by staring, but it did nothing to help her get a grip on her emotions.
"Come with me," Kathy said eventually, surprising Olivia again with another step in her direction and a hand on her forearm, even though her tone was still dry. "I want to show you something."
She led Olivia up the stairs, pulling lightly at her arm but not letting it go until they reached a door that was cracked open. Kathy pushed it lightly, so as not to make any sound, but she could see even from that small crack, the room invaded by sunlight coming from a window on the opposite wall, that the baby was wide awake, sitting in his crib.
"You're awake!" Kathy said, with the biggest smile, approaching the bed quickly and taking little Eli in her arms. After a few kisses and hugs, she walked back towards Olivia, who had stayed behind by the door frame, unmoving, her tears paused as well. "Do you remember Olivia?" she said, still smiling. "She was the first person to ever hold you."
The memory of that day came crashing – being with Kathy in the car, then the accident, how she'd had to help the firefighters and paramedics secure her before they could get her out of the car and into the ambulance, how the baby had been born inside the moving bus, the feeling of his small body against hers as she held him tight, doing her best to keep him warm as she shook in utter panic for his mother's life. A completely different child now, baby Eli had his father's blue eyes and his mother's blond hair, and the sight of him reignited Olivia's tears while she returned his smile, because she couldn't stop thinking she was the cause for this little baby having to grow up with divorced parents.
Eli moved his little body towards Olivia as though he wanted her to take him, and Kathy immediately offered him; Olivia had no choice but to hold out her arms and receive him.
"Maybe he does remember you," Kathy said with a hint of a smile, crossing her arms, her eyes on her son the whole time.
"Hi, little man," Olivia whispered, mesmerized, smiling as she cried, touching the baby's rosy cheek lightly with the back of her fingers. "You're so big!" She then turned to Kathy. "He's so big," she repeated, amazed, with tears rolling into her mouth, open in a big smile. "And so gorgeous."
"He is, isn't he?" Kathy now smiled too, caressing the baby's head as Olivia held him. "I wanted you to see him, take a good look at him."
Olivia's smile faded at the enigmatic statement. Why take a good look at him? To feel even guiltier for being the reason this little baby would no longer have his father living under the same roof as him? She obliged, though, and turned her head to look at the beautiful child in her arms; he was now fiddling with her necklace, seemingly fascinated by the golden glint. This was wrong, it was all wrong. She didn't belong here, getting in the middle of this family, ruining this little boy's childhood.
"Take a good look at him and tell me if you would regret having him if he were yours," Kathy said softly.
Olivia turned to her, completely confused by the question. "Of course not," she hesitantly replied, unsure of how she was supposed to react.
"So there you go," Kathy said with a simple smile, her eyes still on the baby. "No regrets. Maybe we should have gone through with the divorce the first time around, but we wouldn't have had him. Maybe I lost Elliot, but not before he gave me twenty happy years and five beautiful children." She paused, letting out a long sigh, then turned to look at Olivia when she spoke again. "We don't need to pretend we still love each other and stay together forever to know that our marriage worked. Things end, one way or another. There's loss and there's heartbreak, and it hurts like hell, but that is just a moment… A moment in a lifetime. I would do it all over again, a thousand times."
Olivia still couldn't understand. She stared blankly at Kathy, interrupted only by Eli's sudden whining; when he started to fuss, Kathy took him back in her arms, soothing him. When he calmed down, she looked at Olivia again, chuckling to herself.
"I can't believe I'm standing here giving you advice about my husband," she said, shaking her head. "But that's it, and I swear this is the last time I'll ever talk to you about this. Choose heartbreak, Olivia. Choose a moment of heartbreak over a lifetime regretting what could have been. Maybe then I won't have lost him in vain."
Kathy's voice broke during that last sentence, and she turned away from Olivia, walking away with the baby. She started taking clothes out of the dresser as if Olivia were already gone, and she didn't know if she was supposed to leave. A moment later, Kathy answered her unspoken question, her tone now back to that cold, resentful detachment.
"I need to change him, can you show yourself out?"
"Sure," Olivia said, hesitating for a moment. "Thank you," she breathed and turned to leave, unsure of what exactly she was thanking Kathy for.
Why do you accept so little from him? Eric was asking that, whispering it in her ear as he held her hand, sitting on the floor in front of her. You deserve someone who's entirely yours, who can reciprocate everything you have to give. He had a sweet smile on his face as he said that, and he raised his free hand to touch her face, running it down along her jaw, but when he reached her throat, his hand wrapped around it in a tight grip, keeping the air from passing through as he pushed her to the floor and pinned her down with the rest of his body. I'm going to fuck you again, and you're gonna love it.
"No!" Olivia screamed voicelessly, as though her throat was really being squeezed, but as she took in her surroundings, realizing she was on her couch, in her living room, where she must have dozed off for a few minutes, she noticed the only hands around her neck were her own.
She breathed, relieved, and heard the doorbell; when she did, she realized she had been hearing it for a while during her dream, one of those sounds in a dream that only make sense when you wake up and hear them in the real-life context. It took her a minute to find her bearings and be able to stand up, but as she walked to the door to answer it, she already had a pretty good idea of who it was. She was wearing a thin nightgown with a thin robe over it, which she fixed carefully to cover more of her body, but she didn't intend to let him in or anything; she was going to tell him she was getting ready for bed, which wasn't a lie, even though night had just fallen.
"Elliot," Olivia said, unsurprised, opening the door and crossing her arms protectively around her chest.
"You didn't call," he said, calm but dry. "I waited."
She hadn't forgotten she had promised to call him, earlier at the precinct, but she had said that to get rid of him, and he knew that. "Sorry," she said, running her hand through her hair, still not completely dry from the shower she had taken. "I was busy and I ended up forgetting about it. Anyway, I'm really tired, I was just about to go to bed."
"Busy with what?" he squinted, ignoring her attempt to blow him off. "Making house calls?"
"House calls…?" Olivia repeated faintly.
"Kathy called me," he explained, looking annoyed. "She asked me to tell you not to call or visit anymore."
Olivia sighed, ashamed, looking away from him, and when she did, she noticed his suitcase, the same one that had been in the locker room that morning; it was standing next to him in the hallway, right outside her door.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Elliot took a step towards her to force her eyes to focus on him again; he seemed very annoyed. "Are you that desperate to run away from me?"
"You're not thinking straight," Olivia explained, impatiently, nodding at the suitcase to illustrate. "Neither of you are. I was just trying to help, like I always do."
"Yeah, you always do," he smiled, still annoyed, angry even. "How many times have you hidden behind that excuse?"
Olivia scoffed, incredulous. "Excuse?" she repeated. "You're an ungrateful son of a bitch."
"Maybe, but you're a chicken shit," he countered. "And you tell me I'm the one who relies on safety nets! You'd rather fix my marriage a thousand times than face the fact that you might have feelings for me."
"Yes, it's that simple," she felt her voice and her body tremble with anger. "Screw you."
She moved to close the door, but Elliot easily stopped it with one clasped hand, taking another step towards her and staring her down with something that resembled a smile, his face so close that she could feel the air from his nose and mouth against her face.
"What is it?" he challenged. "I'm not good enough without the ring on my finger? Now that I'm here for you like you said I couldn't be?"
"I can't believe you just said that," she said through clenched teeth, unable to look up at him, her voice not louder than a whisper as she held back enraged tears.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, touching her chin with the back of his index and middle finger, coaxing her to look at him. "Help me understand what's going through your head."
They stared at each other for a moment before she replied. "I just think we should stay away from each other until you and Kathy figure things out," she explained, but it sounded like a plea. Her eyes fluttered closed as she went on. "I'm trying to do what's best for you."
"Forget that, the divorce is final," he said, lowering his voice in volume and pitch. It came out in a tone that vibrated directly into Olivia's body, racing her heart and shortening her breath. "So if you really care about what's best for me, then give me what I really want. What I really need."
His expression was so intense that it made her dizzy, confused, and for a moment she didn't know what to say or do. Even the smallest things, like breathing, required major effort, because it would have been so easy to just fall into him, just take a step and dive into his chest, let his arms break her fall, close her eyes and let him take charge of everything. But it was too risky. If she relinquished control like that, she didn't trust herself to be able to regain it if she needed to. When she needed to.
"What about what I need?" she asked faintly, her eyes lingering on his lips as she tried to focus on controlling her voice.
"What do you need?" he retorted. "Talk to me. It's all I've been trying to find out."
Olivia swallowed hard, her throat suddenly so dry that her voice broke when she spoke.
"Right now, I need to be alone," she said, looking up into his eyes and struggling to keep her voice firm. "I need you to go."
"No," he said, not challengingly now, just matter-of-factly. "That's the only thing I won't do for you."
As if to make his point, he doubled back only far enough to get his suitcase, then came back decidedly, not really asking for permission, more like demanding it; she was left with no other option but to take a step back and let him finally walk into the apartment. He closed the door and parked the suitcase nearby.
"What about the hotel?" Olivia asked, aware of the obvious answer, but she was playing for time, because she didn't know how to fight this Elliot, this Elliot with a suitcase in her apartment, claiming he wouldn't leave.
"I'm staying here," he smiled; he seemed to be enjoying this, watching it as his assertion was making her uncomfortable. "I was going to stay at the precinct, but Cragen kicked us out of there, remember?" As if he'd read her mind, he paused, letting his smile fade, then explained further with a non-threatening step in her overall direction. "Look, I don't have a place to go tonight, and you could use some company. I wasn't comfortable knowing you were here all alone dealing with everything that happened. That's all, I swear."
Olivia tried to fight it, but his argument really did make her feel better about the whole thing, and in light of the nightmare she'd just woken up from, she figured he might be right about her need for company. Even though she still had every intention to stay as far away from him as possible, to be really honest, she knew she would feel better knowing he was close by. She looked up at him again, hesitantly, and didn't even try to say she was fine this time.
"Have you eaten?" she asked timidly instead.
Elliot visibly contained a surprised smile. "I'm not hungry," he said softly.
She pointed to the fridge behind her with her thumb. "There's some takeout leftovers if you do get hungry."
This time, he let his mouth turn upward into a big smile. "So I can stay?"
Olivia looked down, wrapping her arms carefully around herself again, and did not answer. She turned away, uncertain of what she should do or say next, but she settled for going into her bedroom, getting a change of sheets and taking it back to the living room. "You can take the couch," she said, deliberately avoiding his eyes. "Like I said, I'm going to bed. Good night."
Her eyes were closed, she didn't have the courage to watch it happening. The metal was cold against her forehead, but it could blow up at any moment, a single, quick moment that would end everything. But then it was gone, and her head seemed suddenly a thousand pounds lighter. She opened her eyes, confused, looking for the gun, but what she saw was Elliot trying to overpower Eric, both of them struggling, and then the gun went off, making them stand still for a moment before falling, and as she screamed, Olivia realized that the wall had been painted red with blood, and she no longer saw Eric anywhere; instead, she saw Elliot, lying on the floor, more blood around him, the red pool growing fast around his motionless body, his face becoming paler by the second.
No! Elliot! She was now already in tears, on her knees, taking him in her arms, holding him tight, as if that could stop the bleeding, could undo what had just happened; it was a mistake, he wasn't supposed to die like this, this was the one outcome she had never even considered, and now she didn't know what she was supposed to do with herself and with him. She had to clean him up, take him away from there, get him to a hospital; she looked for a radio to call it in, call a bus, for Christ's sake, hurry! Officer down!
"That's okay," he said, and it made her confused; how was he able to speak now all of a sudden? But then his arms were also around her, tight, squeezing her, and everything was gone from around her until she realized she was actually in her bedroom, in the dark, and Elliot was sitting on her bed, his body pretty much wrapped around hers, her head cradled in his hand, his fingers digging into the strands of her hair, caressing her scalp, soothing her. "It's okay," he kept saying, and as she regained consciousness, it turned into whispering. "You're safe, you're home. I'm here."
At first, she couldn't grasp the meaning of what he was saying, still too caught up in the terror, but slowly she was able to ground herself, focus on his arms around her, her breathing, the fact that she was, indeed, safe and home. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed for dear life.
"You were shot…" she said under her breath. "You were dying."
"It was just a bad dream," Elliot reassured her. "I'm right here."
A few moments went by, and Olivia felt it as her heartbeat slowed and her breathing went back to normal. Elliot continued to hold her, not giving any indication he intended to stop or leave, just there for her, caressing her hair, speaking softly into her ear, the hot air from his mouth against it.
It started as an attempt to look at him, see with her own eyes that he was fine, but before Olivia could realize what she was doing, she had already snaked one arm up his chest, letting her hand rest on his shoulder, while her other hand framed his face. He looked at her somewhat questioningly, but even then, he was showing patience, restraint, letting her stay in control. Not that she had much of it, because if she did, she wouldn't have leaned into him and kissed him on the lips, still crying slightly, but she was thankful that, up until the moment she brushed his lips with hers, he let her decide, he gave her the space to stop if she wanted. He let her decide she didn't want to stop.
His mouth was warm, like his whole body, ready to receive her, to protect her. His lips were gentle, following hers, and when she opened up to him, he took it as a sign that he could go a little further, and he did, darting his tongue into her mouth, slowly, his hands in the same rhythm as they started to move all over her body, reminding her she was naked but for a thin layer of satin, which felt like nothing under his fingers, but it didn't matter, because he was alive and right there with her; she ran her hands across his chest and back under his t-shirt, she suddenly needed him closer, and he complied.
Elliot broke the kiss for a moment to place soft kisses along her jaw, throat and shoulder, and as he approached the spaghetti strap of her nightgown, his forefinger wrapped around it, pulling slightly, enough to make it fall all the way to her elbow, exposing her left breast, a chill running down her spine, and she wasn't sure if it had been caused by the sudden coolness of nudity or the heat of his presence. She didn't have to decide. His hand was already cupping her breast, his thumb tracing the contours of her nipple, the movements alternating between sweet caressing and light teasing, and again, she didn't know which caused the long moan that she let out involuntarily.
He laid her back down on her pillow, holding her close with both arms, and started kissing her shoulder, her upper arm, her breasts, just kissing, so lovingly, reverently, and for a moment it was almost not sexual at all, it was something else, it was like being adored, being worshipped, and Olivia was suddenly hit with the power of that sensation, the impact of feeling loved like that, the danger in getting used to it, and her whole body paralyzed instantly; she shut down, like she was going into anaphylactic shock. Elliot stopped immediately, coming back up to look at her face, a bit alarmed, but not as much as she had imagined he would be; he could read her, and that was also really scary.
"Sorry," he whispered, cupping her face. "Too much too soon?"
He didn't wait for her to answer the question. Instead, he respectfully pulled the strap up her arm, covering her, and laid down next to her, using the arm that still rested under her back to bring her over to lay on his chest, his other arm instantly wrapping around her as well, his fingers restarting the relaxing massage on her scalp.
"Just go back to sleep," he said. "I got you."
She meant to ask him if he was going to stay there with her, hoping he would, but she waited for her breathing to go back to normal and ended up falling asleep without saying anything else.
Heartbreak. Olivia couldn't wrap her head around it as she recalled Kathy's advice. How was that the answer? She was afraid, of course, she didn't know what heartbreak was, and yet she knew it too well. She knew how heartbreaking it was to see her mother drink herself to death. She knew how heartbreaking it was to grow up without a father, to watch her classmates with their dads, hand in hand, safe, while she had to fend for herself ever since she could remember. She knew how heartbreaking it was to be in love with someone who's unavailable, someone who's already in love with someone else, to watch them leave every night, knowing they'll go home to someone, share a meal, a bathroom, a bed, a life.
She knew too well what it was like to have her heart broken, so why did it scare her so much to have her heart broken with this, in a possible relationship with Elliot? The only difference she could think of was that heartbreak wasn't the default in this case; in this case, she would dedicate herself to building something, she would invest her time, her hopes and dreams on it – that was the experience she didn't have. She had never really worked to build something that could break, she had always settled for not building anything at all. The result was the same, to end up with nothing, but there was no waste of time, of hopes and dreams, there was no work.
And yet, she had never thought about the gain. That was what Kathy had done for her that day, by taking her to see baby Eli. She had shown her that, even in loss, not everything was lost. That it was possible to build something that would last or at least have been worth the work once it ended. That was what she didn't know: the gain. The heartbreak was a given, but she had never factored in the gain that could also result from trying.
She had told Eric she was afraid of having something good for a while and then missing it forever, but she hadn't considered how good good could be. If she was so afraid of wasting time building something that might not last, what's to say about wasting time on building nothing at all? How was that better? If nothing lasts, and everything is lost, and everything ends, then what's the point of anything? By extension, if everybody dies, then why live at all? If she knew beforehand that she would die that day, would she just stay in bed and wait for it? If nothing was worth doing, trying, risking, why should she continue breathing?
She didn't want to die. She certainly wasn't brave enough to take her own life. But now she was confronting the fact that maybe she wasn't brave enough to live either, not if it meant she would have to put her life in someone else's hands, give herself to someone so completely like that. If she was afraid of everything, of taking any risks… Why even bother getting up in the morning? By doing nothing, she made sure nothing ever happened to her. But then, nothing ever happened to her.
Elliot. He wasn't scared. He had been brave enough to fall in love, get married, have children. Olivia was sure that he must be absolutely terrified of ever losing any of his children, and yet, would that make him wish they hadn't been born? She had him. She had told Eric: Elliot was the one who had never left her. One way or another, he was there for her, and she was absolutely terrified of losing him. She was terrified that he might die, that he might leave. But none of that made her wish she hadn't met him.
So heartbreak. That was the given. Her only choice in the matter was how to have her heart broken. She could choose heartbreak now or never knowing when it might come. Pretty much like death; was she supposed to kill herself now in order to avoid not knowing when death would come? Was control that important? So maybe she should choose heartbreak, the kind that you can't control, because at least this one gave her the possibility of having something of her own before it came, something she was actually afraid of losing. Maybe she should choose the death you can't control, at least this one gave her the possibility of living for a while.
She took a deep breath, a slow, conscious one, one she chose to take, wondering if she really could let go of the fear, if she was brave enough. She was staring at his face, his handsome features, that could so many times look like those of a little boy or a rabid, threatening alpha dog, ready to fight or rebel, ready to protect. Right now, he slept peacefully, his head on the pillow she had been sleeping on earlier, his shoulder serving as her own pillow, his arms tight around her, securing her close to his chest, his t-shirt and her nightgown the only barriers between them.
Whatever she had thought or believed or feared, the fact was that he was right there, sleeping on her bed, holding her, protecting her like she had always doubted he could ever manage to. She took her hand to his face, letting her fingers trace the square lines of his jaw, letting a couple of fingers lightly touch his lips, and wondered if she could simply let go of her fear and let herself taste this, let herself find out what it felt like to trust his love for her, to let herself savor it, let it fill her up, let it creep into her through every cell of her body, and her sudden physical need for him was so unbearable that it almost didn't matter. She was running her fingers through his hair and he started to move; she couldn't resist approaching him and kissing his cheek.
"Elliot," she heard herself whisper.
"Yeah?" he murmured before opening his eyes, a moment later, a bit alarmed, but he soon realized she was peaceful and gave her a slight smile as he blinked his eyes into wakefulness. "How long have you been up?" he asked.
"Not long," she purred, caressing him, letting her fingers trace the contours of his face, then run down his neck, trace the line of his collarbone through the thin layer of white cotton.
He patiently watched, waiting to see any signs of hesitation, but she gave him none. He wanted to ask her what was going through her mind now, but he was afraid to break the spell. She was staring at him, alternating between his eyes, his lips and the lines she was tracing with her fingers; they were now on his upper arm, a light-feathered touch, but enough to start sending chills through his body; as a reflex, he tightened his hold around her just as she was reaching his forearm around her back, nudging it down her side until his hand reached her uncovered hip, the skin there even smoother than the silk, and his fingers automatically curled, digging into her flesh.
"Liv," he said, between a question and a warning, but her hand was already on its way back up his arm to land on his shoulder, pulling him closer, her eyes dark with desire, helping ignite him even faster.
"It's okay," Olivia whispered reassuringly; this wasn't the time for him to question this. She needed him to respond in kind, to let her know he wanted this badly enough for it to have a chance.
She leaned into him, offering him the choice to close the last couple of inches, which he took, cupping the back of her head to bring her into him and kiss her, eagerly, digging his other hand deeper into the skin of her hip, intending to take it slow but unsure if he could, his control very fragile against his long-repressed need for her. Even though she had been the one to kiss him earlier, at a certain point she had shut down and not been able to go any further, so he didn't want to do anything that might scare her again, but his brain moved slower than his body, and when he realized it, his hand had already traveled from her hip up her back under her nightgown, his fingers kneading the flesh around her waist. He stilled his movements when he noticed he was moving too fast, but that only seemed to fuel her own need.
Olivia figured Elliot was hesitant because of how she had reacted to his touch earlier, so she decided to give him a clearer green light; whatever her fears and concerns might be, they had gone completely silent as her body had taken control and frozen her brain. With her hand on his shoulder for support, she raised her hips up off the mattress and moved her leg over his to straddle him, eliciting a gasp from him when their lower halves suddenly met as she sat flush against him, the thin layer of each of their underwear the only barrier between them, and she felt him growing immediately bigger and harder against her.
"Sorry," she chuckled against his mouth, and as he chuckled back, he held her down against him with a hand on each of her thighs, letting her know there was no hesitation from him, just the reassurance she needed to keep going.
She took her time kissing his face, his ear, his neck, then sat up, holding her hair back and staring at him, reading him, but a look was enough to gauge the hunger in his eyes, the anticipation as he licked his lips in response to her fingers curling around the hem of her nightgown. Slowly, watching for his every reaction, she lifted the silk, uncovering her body, and threw it over her head, leaning down slightly with her hands on his chest, offering herself to his scrutiny, visual and sensorial. He shook his head as his eyes traveled up and down in no hurry.
"Damn," he whispered. "You are…" his eyes lifted to hers for a moment. "Beautiful doesn't begin to cover it…"
Olivia stared at him with determination, and Elliot could see she knew, in that moment, just how breath-takingly gorgeous she looked; maybe she could see it reflected in his eyes, and he was glad to see that confidence when he knew there was so much vulnerability and fragility somewhere in the middle of all that. She covered his hands with hers, inviting them to move up from her thighs, and she led him all the way up, driving a hand to rest on the small of her back and bringing the other one to her stomach, then slowly up, but he smiled and lifted his palm, making it so that his fingers ran up between her breasts, brushing their inner sides lightly, at which she reacted with a large intake of air, closing her eyes.
She felt it as he pulled lightly at her necklace and opened her eyes again; he was holding the golden pendant between two fingers just like Elliot Stabler Jr. had done earlier that same day, those exact same blue eyes staring at it, and Olivia couldn't help but smile. She had felt so guilty looking at that baby, and now there she was again, doing what she had, especially back in that moment, regretted so badly, realizing Kathy had shown him to her to illustrate the exact opposite of regret. That beautiful baby was nothing but the personification of pure love, he could represent nothing bad, and however things had turned out, there was nothing bad, or dishonest, or evil here between her and Elliot; it was love too, maybe it was messy, but it was made from the same stuff.
"Fearlessness," Elliot read from the pendant, then looked up at Olivia; he saw it in her eyes how she was trying to be fearless, to overcome her hesitation, and realized how brave she was, how she had fooled him for so long, been his fortress, his main source of strength, her vulnerable side hidden this whole time. He raised his torso to sit up, wrapping his arms around her, their eyes connected the whole time, some deep emotion flashing through hers. "I love you," he promised, waiting until she nodded slightly to lean into her and kiss her again. He felt her muscles relaxing against him as she gave into it, quite literally delivering her body to him for him to tend to. "I do," he insisted as he trailed kisses down her throat, laying her down with one arm and wrapping her leg around him with the other.
Before moving forward, Elliot got rid of his t-shirt, which Olivia was already rolling up with her fingers. He leaned down to patiently kiss her whole torso, starting from her shoulders, reaching her breasts, now seizing them with his hands and mouth, letting his nose travel across her body, taking her scent in, running his tongue all over her, comparing the taste he discovered on each patch of skin, kissing, sucking, teasing, soothing, amazed that just this morning he was wondering if it had all been in his head and now, there he was, quite literally holding tangible, undeniable proof of the legitimate feelings between them.
He reached her navel, kissing and suckling the skin around it as he wrapped his fingers around her underwear and started pulling it down, lifting her legs from around him to remove it, feeling it as her body trembled with anticipation when he trailed kisses down her stomach, across her hip and the inner part of her thighs until he landed on his ultimate destination, starting slowly with light kisses on the outer part of her core, then switching to exploratory strokes of his tongue, all the way from her entrance to her clit, watching it as the area reddened and swollen in response and letting her moans guide him on how to proceed until he ultimately closed in around the engorged bud, increasing the intensity of the suckling motions, making her writhe beneath him, arching her hips towards him, and when he reckoned she was about to come, he stopped, kissing his way up until he found her lips again, feeling himself harden and twitch as he made her taste herself in his mouth.
Olivia reached out for him, with her hands around the hem of his boxers, trying to pull him out, but as much as he wanted her hands on him, right now was all about her, and he had left her on the brink of climax, her entrance pulsating for him, so he needed to comply with her body's wishes. Getting rid of his underwear, he expertly placed himself at her entrance and wrapped her legs around his hips for the best angle, sliding into her with a swift movement that made her gasp. He leaned into her as he gave her time to adjust, resting his head on the crook of her neck as he closed his eyes at the sensation of once again being surrounded by her warm, velvety walls, wrapping his arms around her, each cell of his skin craving contact with hers as he screamed her name in his head – Olivia, this was Olivia, and nothing felt more right in the world.
He reached deeper with each thrust, driving Olivia torturously close to the edge, and she felt like she might explode from the sensations. She had been so confused, so guilty, so overwhelmed, so hurt, but right now it was as if nothing mattered. Eric was a faint notion in her head, all the pain she had gone through felt healed, because the way Elliot made her feel loved was the antidote to all the doubt and rejection and aggression, self-inflicted included. He leaned down to kiss her breasts, lick and suck at her nipples, mumbling words of adoration, and she felt tears prickling from her closed eyes. She hoped he wouldn't see it, but of course he did; he slowed his movements and leaned down, his face hovering right above hers.
"Hey, what is it?" he asked, concern in his eyes, and Olivia cried harder, because she didn't want to answer.
When he hesitated, she held onto him tighter. "Don't stop," she whimpered, but she could see he was confused, wondering if he had done something to cause that reaction, which he had, but not in the way he was thinking. "Please…" she said, trying to get a hold of her tears and rocking herself against him to encourage him to go on.
"Liv… Talk to me," he pleaded himself, cupping her face with one of his hands, drying her tears with his thumb. "What's the matter?"
She shook her head, angry at herself for crying, cornered into answering, otherwise this was going to end right then and there. "I love you," she whispered, and she could tell he hadn't been expecting that at all as his face lit up, his mouth torn between curling with concern and smiling.
"Is that such a bad thing?" he asked innocently, slowly resuming his rocking motions against her and finally settling on smiling.
Olivia smiled through her tears. "Yes, it is."
That was the last coherent thing she could remember afterwards, because Elliot's confidence in what he was doing was immediately, completely restored, and with a few decisive thrusts, he drove her right back towards the edge and over it, in a climax that reached even the tips of her toes, and as he continued pumping into her relentlessly, she barely had time to acknowledge the over-sensitivity caused by her orgasm immediately after coming down from it, because she went right back up once again and even higher as she came undone again, her voice caught in her throat as she struggled to breathe, her arms and legs wrapping around him, desperate to hold onto that moment, hoping she would still feel like this in the morning, when he was no longer inside her, when she no longer felt this overwhelming sensation in her body that made doubt and guilt vanish, that outdid whatever argument her mind tried to concoct, that told her there was something bigger than everything else she consciously knew that included this, right here, him and her, together like this.