Elliot looked out of the window, the darkness surrounding him. To his left, Kathy slept peacefully, her head resting on her neck pillow. He watched her, a small smile on his face. Her mouth was open slightly and every so often a snore would fall out, causing Elliot to stifle a chuckle each time. Her ability to fall asleep anywhere amazed him.

He looked down at his phone, the dim light of the screen highlighting his face. The plane tracker inched ever so slowly, letting him know they still had 10 hours left until they landed at JFK.

10 hours left.

10 years later.

Elliot couldn't help but remember the last time Olivia had seen his face. They were feet away, hands covered in blood, adrenaline pumping through every vein. She looked at Sister Peg and then to him, the expression she wore never leaving his mind: horrified. She was horrified.

It was a clean shoot, he knew that. Everyone told him that - except Tucker, of course. But he wouldn't fight them. He didn't have any fight left in him. After a few days, he met with Tucker and turned in his badge and gun. Olivia's name flashed on his phone at least three times a day, until slowly it never popped up again. The voicemails remained, however. The voicemails he swore he'd never listen to, yet kept around.

The day he finally listened to a few of them was one of the worst days of his life. Kathy had fallen asleep early and Elliot was up, leaning over the balcony with a glass of whiskey. He wasn't a drinker now, but sometimes a nice glass with a nice view was a wonderful destressor. Except that night.

He remembered the voicemails suddenly, and turned around to walk inside almost immediately. He grabbed the phone, holding it in his hands for a moment. The charger laid next to it and he grabbed it, plugging it in. The wait was agonizing and by the time the phone finally lit up, he had already poured another glass. He tapped the screen frantically, searching for the voicemail icon. The number 18 glared back at him and he froze for a moment. After a deep breath, he took a sip and tapped the icon, the voicemail log filling the screen. He started scrolling until he made it to the bottom, finding the first one she had ever left.

"El, hey, I just wanted to call and see how you were doing. Call me back."

Simple. Short, sweet, and completely unaware of what was to come.

"Look I don't want to stalk you but, ya know, if you need to talk I'm here."

"El, are you okay? Seriously, call me."

Her voice grew much more frantic and worried with every voicemail.

"Elliot, please, talk to me."

There was so much pain in her voice suddenly. She sounded terrified and Elliot listened, holding his breath.

The next voicemail was months later. It was almost as if for a moment Olivia had decided she was done. And maybe she was. But that didn't stop what she was feeling.

"I get it now. You don't want to speak to me. I just wish… I wish I knew what I did wrong."

Elliot downed the remaining whiskey, the burn in his throat growing much more prominent. His eyes were red and he prayed to God that Kathy wouldn't wake up. A part of him told him to stop, knowing they would just get more painful as they went. But another part of him felt he deserved it.

"We never were big on talking about our feelings. To anyone actually-,"

The small dry chuckle filled his ears like music and allowed the flood gates within his eyes to finally break loose.

"-And I don't even know if you're going to hear this but…"

Her voice grew shaky, and Elliot closed his eyes, waiting for whatever words he was going to hear her say.

"I miss you, El."

He set the phone down, his hand rushing to his eyes to try and contain the endless tears he felt coming. What had he done? What the hell had he done?

Elliot looked down at the paper sitting on his tray table, the single dot of water in the corner staring back at him. He silently cursed himself and crumpled the paper, grabbing the notebook and slowly ripping another piece.

He wrote her name carefully, like it was ancient scripture, his pen gliding along the page creating hard lines and points. He blinked away the tears he felt forming and stared down at her name. The name his tongue was once so familiar with and now couldn't bear to taste. A single word that meant everything to him.

I'm sorry.

'God, what a dumbass. Of course I'm sorry,' he thought, setting the pen down and scrubbing a hand down his face. He had no idea what he wanted to say, even after he had 10 years to figure it out. What are you supposed to say when you abandon one of the closest people in your life? How was he supposed to fit ten years of remorse, guilt, fear and longing onto a single piece of paper?

Kathy moved slightly, startling Elliot out of his thoughts. Her eyes remained shut, her mouth still open slightly, but her head faced him now. He watched her for a moment, remembering the good memories they were making in Rome. He thought about their conversation before this trip, Kathy trying to convince him to go to Olivia's award ceremony. At first, he didn't want to. Not because he didn't want to see Olivia - he did, more than he'd like to admit - but because he was convinced she wouldn't want to see him. He walked out of her life, no goodbye, no phone call, just a small medallion he prayed she received. Semper Fi.

He looked back at the paper, taking a deep breath. Olivia's face slowly came into his mind, remembering the times she smiled at him, the times she rolled her eyes playfully at a comment he made, the times he wanted so badly to lean over and finally kiss her-

"Fuck, stop it," he whsipered to himself, shaking his head to try and rid himself of those memories. His wife was sleeping right next to him, for god's sake. His wife that he was finally and genuinely happy with…

That's stupid and you deserve more, but there are no amount of words I can use to express that.

He leaned back in his chair with a long sigh. Two sentences and he was already more emotional than he'd been in years. How was he going to get through this? He wasn't good with words, especially when it came to expressing his feelings, but he needed Olivia to know everything. And the only way he would ever be able to do that was by writing it down.

I'm sorry for leaving the way that I did. I'm sorry for leaving at all. I'm sorry I didn't call you but I knew you would try to talk me out of it-

He paused, thinking carefully about his next few words.

And I knew I would let you.

The truth. It was what she deserved.

I listened to your voicemails. Not at first, but eventually. You never did anything wrong, Olivia. I didn't leave because of you. You were the only thing that would've made me stay, but I needed to go. Walking away from you was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do and I've thought about you every day since.

Another painful truth he couldn't believe he was admitting. He did think about her every day. Sometimes it was in passing, walking past a beautiful building and thinking about how she would have commented on the color, and other times he'd lay awake, Kathy next to him, imagining what Olivia was doing in that moment. The thoughts were always fuzzy with his brain trying to conjure up scenarios of Olivia Benson living her life without him. But there was a beauty in it. He had made peace with the idea that Olivia was happy without him. She deserved happiness.

You were my partner and my best friend, and I turned my back on that. After the way you looked at me in the precinct, I couldn't show my face in there. I thought you'd see me as a monster. I saw myself as a monster.

His throat went dry and he sat back again, looking up at the dim overhead light, trying to keep his tears from falling. It was a memory he had pushed aside, but one that came back just as quickly. Sitting at the dining room table, an almost empty vodka bottle in front of him, his bloody knuckles wrapping around the neck of the bottle and chugging the remains. A few pieces of the mirror sat on the table covered in blood. Kathy walked in slowly, confused as to why Elliot was home. She examined the scene in front of her and slowly walked over to him before softly setting her hand on his shoulder, careful not to startle him. Immediately after she whispered his name, Elliot finally broke down, turning to wrap his arms around her and bury his face in her stomach.

"El," Kathy moaned and Elliot looked over at her, his eyes blood red and burning. Her sleepy expression quickly changed to one of concern and she slowly sat up straight. "You're crying…"

"Kath, hey," Elliot said softly, clearing his throat to try and avoid letting his voice crack. "I'm okay, you can go back to sleep."

"Elliot, are you sure?" He smiled and nodded, giving her a kiss on the forehead and grabbing her hand to squeeze it lightly. She gave him a defeated smile, knowing she wouldn't break him, and closed her eyes again. He turned back to the paper and clicked his pen.

You deserved an explanation and I'm sorry I didn't give you one. I was just too scared. I needed space and time which is selfish of me but-

He paused again. This letter wasn't meant to be a pity party, he didn't get to have that. It was to try and sum up a decade of missing her.

I couldn't bring you down to where I was going. It was dark, and I knew that you would've followed me to help out of it and I couldn't do that to you. I couldn't hold you back anymore.

During their ten years apart, Elliot had critically and objectively thought about their partnership a few times. He thought about all the times Olivia would talk about a man and he'd feel that unfamiliar though painfully obvious feeling of jealousy. He thought about all the times Olivia would be around his kids and he would see the longing for a family in her eyes. He thought about every time she had been willing to risk her job to save his life - and he knew he did it too. They were so much more than partners, even if neither of them would ever admit it. And he felt horrible for it.

He was the married one, he was the one with a family, he was the one who could've immediately made sure neither he nor Olivia took it any farther than coworkers, and he didn't. And for some reason, he felt he couldn't.

He looked out the plane window and thought about seeing Olivia for the first time. Ten years later, he was finally happy with his wife and his family and, though he thought about her, all the feelings he knew he shouldn't have for Olivia were gone. But as the darkness surrounded his moving plane, he knew looking into her eyes would ruin all of that.

The tip of the pen touched the page and his heart raced. Adrenaline rushed through him and for a moment, he heard his mind tell him to just do it. 'Write I loved you. Write I loved you. Write I love you.'

But he didn't.

He didn't want to scare her.

He had no idea what would happen when he left New York this time. After this weekend, he and Kathy were going to fly back to Rome and go back to their Italian life. He wanted so badly to be back in Olivia's life, but he wasn't sure if that was even possible. At least in their partnership, they were able to keep to themselves because they couldn't risk their jobs. But now, Elliot knew himself too well. He couldn't be friends with Olivia.

I don't know where we go from here. But Olivia, I am so sorry. For the last ten years, for the first twelve, and for every day forward. I'm so deeply sorry.

The godforsaken tear hit the page and he sighed. This crying wasn't remorse, however. This crying didn't carry years of guilt and regret for his mistakes. These tears were heavier and he closed his eyes, wanting so badly to not feel what he was feeling.

He loved Olivia. He loved her deeply and completely, no distance or time could change that. He thought it could. And, for a while, he thought it did. But now, the realization hitting him that he was going to look into her beautiful brown eyes again and hear the voice he tried so hard to never hear again, he was fucked.

The emotions ran through him like a tidal wave and he clicked the pen again, finding the only way he felt he could express to Olivia what was running through him in the moment. Slowly, carefully, and wholeheartedly, the pen ran across the bottom of the page, summing up every line.

Love, El.