A/N: I know the nights we shatter hourglasses to fall asleep, the afternoons we take photographs of our own shadows just to prove that we left a mark. - Phil Kaye (Beginning, Middle, & End)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.
As her charcoal pencil scraped across the paper, her mind drifted back to the way things were what seemed like a lifetime ago. She saw herself climbing up a shoddy, shaky ladder and hurling herself into Elliot's open window. She felt him wrap her up in him and a blanket. She remembered Brian Cassidy, for everything he was and wasn't, and Alex Cabot, who hadn't even tried to call her since they left Queens.
She tilted her head and tore the kneaded eraser she'd been holding in half, rolled it between her fingers, and then rubbed the edges of her newsprint as hard as she could, trying to not just erase the stray lines on the page but also the past itself. With a blink and a sigh, she picked up her pencil again, sketching out the shadows of her memory. Elliot's old Saints uniform, the combination of the locker they once shared, Miss Brenner's curly hair and wire-rims, her mother's half-empty vodka bottle lying broken in the glow of a streetlight.
"Ten minutes, mes artistes," the man's thickly accented words echoed in the silent room.
Pencils and pastels moved faster, the slight whooshing noises grew louder, students rushing to finish their sketches before the Frenchman insulted them for being far too slow. She moved, though, like a figure skater. Smooth, precise, in a path that seemed rehearsed to perfection. She felt him before he spoke, suppressing the urge to cough at the stifling scent of his Parisian cologne.
"C'est incroyable, Olivia. Qui est-ce?"
Unable to stop her smile, she grinned and said, "Elliot." She turned the pencil on its side and started to shade in areas on the portrait. Under his eyes, the side of his nose and chin, giving the illusion of a light source on his face.
"Olivia," her teacher said again, and he lifted his weathered hand up to her easel. "Les détails, sa cicatrice, les taches de rousseur, tu le connais très bien." He noticed the details in the portrait, Elliot's scar, his freckles. The man turned his wrist and dragged a finger along the edge of the paper, then tilted his head toward Olivia. "Est-il très important? Il est spécial?"
The bell rang before Olivia could answer, but her nod and smile were enough. Yes, Elliot was very important to her, very special. The teacher walked away, shouting French commands to clean up and leave their easels as they were. Olivia brushed off her blackened hands as she stared at her sketch, wondering when she'd completely memorized Elliot. Did it happen little by little or all at once? Over the spread of the years she'd known him or at the moment she'd first met him? She tossed her charcoal-covered towel into the bucket under her easel and grabbed her bag, checked her watch, then headed for the art room door. She smirked when she met Elliot in the hall, let him lift her into his arms, and kissed him softly. "How was your morning?"
"Sucked," he said. "Why do you smell like the perfume counter at Macy's?" He scrunched up his nose and waved a hand.
She laughed as she pulled lightly on his maroon tie. "The art teacher bathes in three-hundred dollar cologne, everyone smells like him after class, for at least an hour." She batted her eyelashes. "Do I smell expensive?"
"Sure, sure," he gave her a snarky smile and nodded. He brushed his palms down the front of her sweater-vest, let his index finger trace the embroidered Northwood crest on her chest. "We're going to get DJ, then meeting Trev and Abby at Vinnie's for lunch." He kissed her cheek. "Maybe that, uh, expensive smell will fade on the way into town." He laughed and hooked his arm around her shoulders, then asked her, "What'd you do in class, today, anyway?" He lifted her hand and turned her palm over, seeing the black charcoal stains on her fingers. "Finger painting?" he joked.
"Charcoal sketches," she said with a downturned smile as she backhanded him in the chest. "It was...interesting, we, uh, had to close our eyes for ten minutes and clear our minds while he played some Edith Piaf song about not regretting anything. Then he made us open our eyes and draw the first things that popped into our heads, the first image that came to mind when we thought about the things in life we didn't regret."
He looked over his shoulder once, then licked his lips before leading Olivia out of the arts building and down the stone path to the elementary campus. "Well, looking at the shit we've been through, how hard was that?" He lowered his hand, curling it around her hip. "What could you have possibly…"
"You," she said, and the word stopped Elliot cold. He turned to look at her, something in his eyes giving her the chills. "Um, I drew a, uh, portrait of you." She jerked to a stop beside him, biting her lip, his reaction startling her. "Say something," she prodded with a nervous laugh. "Please?"
He didn't say anything at all. He threw his hands up to her face, gripped and pulled, and kissed her with everything he had. He felt her hands slip up his back and he moaned softly, and then pulled away with a sniffle. He knew she could tell he was crying but he didn't really care. Wiping his eyes, he gave another sniffle, and then he wrapped himself around her again. "You don't regret…"
"Not a damn thing, when it comes to you," she whispered into his ear. She kissed a small spot on the side of his neck and then said, "I love you."
"God, I love you, too," he ran his right hand down to her left and clutched it, and pulled her down the path to DJ's building, calming himself down as they walked. Once they made it to DJ's building, the young boy jumped on his brother's back, clutching his brand new Adventures of DanMan comic book in his hand, and the trio walked across the courtyard to the gates of Northwood.
"Down," DJ said, sleeping his brother's shoulders quickly once they were on the main strip. He laughed as Elliot dropped him to his feet, then slipped his free hand into Olivia's. "Can we get pepperoni?" he asked, looking up at the girl who'd become his big sister, both legally and by choice. "And a milkshake?"
"Anything you want, Bud," she said, looking down at him. She turned around the corner, heading for the pizza place, but they were headed off by Abby and Trevor, rushing at them with great speed and enthusiasm. "Woah," Olivia gripped DJ's hand as Abby hugged her tightly. "I'm not a hugger. Stop hugging me. Why are you hugging me?"
"I missed you!" Carmichael said as she pulled herself away. She was making an exaggeratedly excited face as she grabbed Olivia's free hand and slipped something into it. "Just couldn't wait to see you." She pointed to Olivia's hand and nodded dramatically as she tried to keep herself in front of her friends.
Olivia narrowed her eyes, blinked quickly as she looked down at the note Abby had slipped her. "Um, yeah," she said warily. "We missed you, too, Abs," she unrolled the small paper, torn from the corner of the pizzeria's menu. With a gasp, she looked at Carmichael, and then Trevor, and then slapped the note into Elliot's chest.
Elliot scoffed, then looked down at the paper he was now clutching. He read it to himself, his eyes widened, and his hand flew to his neck. Wrapping his fingers around the silver cross, he pulled hard, snapping the already broken chain completely. He looked at it, the silver almost burning in his palm, and he gritted his teeth as he tossed it away, watching it fall into a puddle of motor oil in the middle of the street. "Come on," he said, picking DJ up and backing the group around the corner again. "How did you guys…"
"Heard one of the cops say your name," Trevor interrupted, poking Olivia in the shoulder. "Thought it was just a weird coincidence at first, but then…" he shrugged. "We heard it a couple more times, from a couple other people. Then this, uh, gruffy looking guy came in, sat at a booth in the back, spent five minutes just staring at the door."
Carmichael piped up then. "I knew what was happening, I had this feeling in my gut, ya know?" she sighed. "It was like a scene out of NYPD Blue! One of those sting ops? Anyway, Trev got up to try to get closer, Liv, this guy had a photo of you and Elliot in his damn hand! Now, I am just guessing here, but I think this guy knew where you were gonna be, then a bunch of cops found out that he found out," she spoke fast. "I wrote it down, figuring that I couldn't say anything out loud because I assume your father found a way to bug you even though I already…" she coughed, Trevor's elbow hitting her in the side. "Ow, dipshit! What?"
Trevor made a grunting noise, then gestured to Elliot and Olivia as he grunted again.
"You already…" Elliot rolled his hand at her as they walked back toward the Northwood gates, figuring it was safer to eat at one of the restaurants on the grounds. "Come on, Abby, what?"
Carmichael huffed and slapped herself in the forehead, frustrated at herself now that she realized why Trevor tried to shut her up. "When your father came to visit, I saw him stick something to your door. I waited until he got far enough down the hall, and I ran over and pulled it off. Uh, it looked like one of those, uh, bug things they always use on CSI. Red light, little red wires...so I snapped the damn thing in half. I didn't know he found another way to keep track of where you were going and what you were doing. I mean, he had to have, right?"
"Had to have been that damn cross," he muttered. "Had the bad guys listening, and the cops tracking us to intervene. Damn it, Dad! I knew he didn't just show up to apologize! We walked right into his damn trap!"
"You think your father used us as bait?" Olivia questioned, narrowing her eyes.
"Yeah, I do," Elliot said, and he held his little brother a bit tighter. "We dodged a bullet tonight, thanks to Abby's obsession with prime-time TV, but what if we all walked in there together? What if we showed up, and something happened to you, or DJ?" his voice grew louder. "Better question, what the hell happens now?" He shook his head. "My dad pissed off the wrong person, and whoever it is wants to make him pay by hurting us...and he was just gonna let it all happen." He set DJ down once they made it back onto the Northwood lawn. "Take him, go to Dingo's, get him his milkshake."
"Where are you going?" she asked, when he turned and headed toward the admissions building.
He stopped, turned, ran back to her, and kissed her. "I'll meet you inside, I just...have to make a phone call." He kissed her again. "I love you." He nodded at Trevor and Abby as they ushered Olivia and Elliot toward Dingo's, the campus diner. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, scrolled through his contacts, and found a number he thought he'd never have to use again. He knew that his father would be able to track the phone, trace any calls made, so he pulled open the door to the admin building and slipped into one of the cubicles. He picked up the desk phone, dialed, and waited, and when the person on the other end picked up, he turned off his cell phone. "Hello, uh, my name is...yeah, it is." He turned his cell phone over as he listened to the person speak. "We're good, she's...yeah, we did, but this isn't about Serena." He opened the small latch on the side of his phone and pulled the SIM card out of the device. "Remember when you said...if me and Liv ever needed anything else, we could call you?" He turned and threw the casing of his phone into the nearest trash can. "Did you mean that?" He shoved his SIM card into his pocket, smiled, and then sat down, hoping that he could explain everything to Simone Bryce, praying that she would keep her promise.
A/N: Thanks for reading.