A/N: Okay, okay. I know it's been a minute since I updated this fic but I'm here now. This story is slowly coming to a close and I'm so happy to have taken you all on this ride with age gap Olivia and Elliot. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this fic, it means so much to me!

Her heart beats slowly.

She has to will herself to breathe, to keep her heart going. It's as if her heart has switched to a manual instead of automatic, and she has to convince her mind with every moment that passes. Keep breathing, keep pushing.

It is a fruitless effort to fight anymore. She wants to give in.

Down the hall, Elliot lays on a gurney as doctors and nurses work to repair the damage caused by two bullets.

Two.

One gunshot wound is enough. Two is far too many.

There are one-hundred-and-ninety-six tiles on the bathroom wall. She's counted them three times already. Numbers stick in her head, in her heart. It's all too much, and it was never, ever enough. She wanted more time with him. In any way she could have him.

Olivia remembers last night, how she had taken the coward's way out and told him she loves him after he was already asleep. How two hours ago he had told her he loves her while he lay bleeding in the street.

Her mind is going through cycles.

First, it's the numbers. Then, the memories.

Her brain works backward from the ending to the beginning. She wonders when it was – the precise moment she fell in love with him. It must have been one of the countless times he'd kissed her, or perhaps during their gentler moments when he pulled her close and just held her against him, and slowly her worries would melt away as if he sensed them on her mind.

She sits now on the bathroom sink in the hospital waiting room. People come and go from the room and just maneuver around her while she stares into nothingness. A small voice in her head reminds her to be strong, she needs to be strong for Elliot.

The numbers come to her again.

Then she remembers how she felt one night she had been staying at his place. How his body had molded against hers while he slept, and she was wide awake staring at the door. Just as she was about to panic and run because the act of him cuddling with her while he was sleeping was just too much – Elliot groaned in his slumber and pulled her back tighter into his chest. She was trapped and although the fear inside of her had kept her awake until that moment, she found herself relaxing into his embrace and eventually finding sleep herself.

Olivia tunes out the rest of the world. They can wait. She needs to remember every detail of him before things change and become too complicated.

"Liv," she hears, but it's not Elliot's voice. "Liv."

In her dazed condition, she looks away from the tiles and to the person standing in front of her.

Monique.

A wave of relief washes over her. She had nearly forgotten that she'd called her partner when they arrived at the hospital and she was relegated to the waiting room. Procedures and policies thrum through her mind – there should be a protective detail for Elliot, she needs to give her statement at some point.

She needs to see Elliot.

Monique's hands cup Olivia's face, pulling her gaze up to the other woman's. Tears streak down her face openly because she's tired of hiding. It's too late. Everything will come out, it's just a matter of when.

She can't lose Monique as well.

"I'm sorry," Olivia sobs quietly. The curly-haired woman dips her head to meet her eyes again, confusion etching itself into her expression.

"What do you mean you're sorry? Where's the Captain?" Monique asks, wiping away the tears that spill onto her partner's cheeks.

The questions just make her sob harder.

"He got shot," she manages to choke out. "I was there in the street and someone shot him."

"Why were you with Stabler?"

Her mouth opens but no sound comes out.

"Oh," Monique hums, and the realization is evident in the way her voice drops. "How long, Olivia?"

Part of her wants to run away from this. She can't hurt Monique. She can't lie to her either. It's tearing her apart. All she wants is for today to be over. Perhaps tomorrow will bring an ounce of perspective on how she's going to make it out of this situation with her job, her best friend, her boyfriend.

"A few months."

Monique sighs heavily, blowing her curled bangs out of her eyes. She takes a few moments, pacing around the small bathroom while she thinks. Olivia's frozen, stuck in her spot on top of the sink. Her hands lay open in her lap – there's no fight left in her.

"You love him, don't you."

She nods. It's the only thing she can do.

"Okay," Monique breathes. "Okay, we're gonna get you cleaned up and then we'll go find him."

They're quiet as she cleans up Olivia. The sound of the tap turning on and off fills the room. Monique is gentle, wiping the bloodied palm print from her face first before she moves onto her arms and hands. She leaves for a moment and then returns with an evidence bag and a pair of scrubs under her arms.

"Thank you," she finds herself whispering.

"What are partners for?"

She's the first thought on his mind when he wakes up.

Of course, he's used to it by now. Every morning he thinks of her. When she's not in bed beside him, he wonders how she slept. He doesn't open his eyes right away. Instead, he remembers the way her hair fans across the pillow when she sleeps, and the impossible curve of her silhouette in the dark. She's radiant day or night.

His love for her took him by surprise.

It snuck up on him. At first, it was just little things. The way she buried her face in the sheets when she caught him staring at her when they woke up in the morning. How protective she is over Monique. Then, it seemed in a blink of an eye, he was watching her leaving his place after they agreed to take some time apart when he was getting heat from the Deputy Commissioner.

Olivia's selflessness at that moment had stunned him.

He never stood a chance when it came to falling for her.

"Hey," he hears somewhere in the distance. "I know you're awake."

He wants to stay asleep. There's a dull pain in his shoulder and he knows it's not just a random ache. Everything from before he went to sleep comes back to him, only it's in pieces. Olivia is standing in front of the café, and then he's reaching for her. Suddenly, he's on the ground, a searing, white-hot pain shooting through his left shoulder. The world is hazy around him but he sees her – those brown eyes staring down at him – and just as his body begins to give in to the pain, he tells her he loves her.

"You're a bad actor, Elliot."

His eyes slowly open to the voice that coaxes him from his memories.

Olivia is sitting on the side of his hospital bed, her delicate hand curled into his. He blinks a few times, adjusting to the bright lights of the room. His eyes find hers again and she smiles nervously, her chin quivering. He can see she's cried since he's been out and it's a fear he hopes she'll never have to face again.

"Hey," he croaks.

"Hi," her voice is barely a whisper above the beeping of machines around them. "You scared me." Olivia is beautiful in front of him, even under the fluorescent lights with no makeup. She's everything from his wildest dreams and he isn't sure how he got to be so lucky as to have her in his life in this way.

"M'sorry," Elliot laughs, using his free hand to cup her cheek. He brings her mouth down to his, and she kisses him gently, her lips just grazing and pressing against him before she pulls back. "I love you."

Olivia's eyes open at his admission. "I love you, too."

He kisses her again and rests his forehead on hers.

"Things are going to get more complicated now."

Yeah, they will.

And he'll love her even more on the other side of it.