I do not own the characters. Thank you for reading!

The Phone Call

Just as she felt herself drifting to sleep, Olivia stirs from the sound of her phone vibrating on her nightstand...again. She sighs and shifts onto her side to check who's calling, but she already has a pretty good idea.

STABLER

She groans. This must be the fourth call from him in the last hour or so. She finally caves and grabs her phone from the nightstand, clicking the green button. "Christ, what!" she grumbles, pressing the phone to her ear.

Oh, you answered, um

"Yes, I answered! Now what the hell do you want? It's-" she pulls the phone away from her face to check the time, "It's 1:15." She rubs her forehead in frustration and releases a purposeful sigh.

I just... I wasn't the target. Kathy was the target all along. I found a photo. Sacha Lenski was there. He knew everything.

"Elliot, you need to go to sleep. You have tomorrow to work on this. You can call me at a normal hour."

It's important, Liv.

"I know it is. I know. But so is your health. You're running on empty."

Liv-

"Right. You don't want my help," she quips, the hostility evident in her tone. "I get it. Now goodnight." She brings her phone back down and her thumb hovers over the end button while she hears "wait, wait" from his end.

"Fuck," she whispers. "What?!" she nearly yells to the phone.

I'm sorry.

"I don't need this right now, Elliot." She grinds her teeth together. She's using all of her willpower to stay angry at him. If she allows the anger to fade, she's going to break. Twelve years she spent fighting the romantic feelings towards him, and she always won in suppressing them. Now after hearing those three words fall from his mouth, those twelve years are pounding at the prison cell she locked them in over a decade ago. If she stays angry, she'll keep winning, and the feelings will stay prisoners.

I know... I know. But I'm sorry about *sigh* for my shitty timing.

Olivia rolls onto her other side in a huff. "Your shitty timing? You said you ... and then I had to play damage control with your kids when you walked out. You can't just-"

I know.

"You can't keep walking away."

I want to see you.

"God," she groans. "Haven't we established it's going on 1:30 in the morning?" She throws the phone call on speaker and buries her face in her pillow.

Please.

She lifts her head up, hair falling across her face and blows at the strands covering her lips. "You need to go to sleep."

I need you.

"Elliot, you're exhausted. You don't know what you're saying."

I know exactly what I am saying, Olivia.

His tone has grown firmer, and she can picture how his jaw tensed up when saying that. He rarely uses anything but her nickname. She closes her eyes and releases a deep exhale from her nostrils. "Have you forgotten you have a son?"

He's with Maureen. Liv, I -

"No!" she declares. "Go to bed." With that, she ends the call and tosses her phone to the other side of her bed. Falling back against her pillow, she drapes her arm across her forehead and stares up at the ceiling. In a mere few seconds, her phone lights up with his name once again. She clicks it off and drops it over the edge and onto the floor.

She knows he needs someone to be there for him, but she feels like she is on a rollercoaster with his mood swings. Trying to dissect his words is attempting to translate a foreign language she hasn't learned. She used to understand his thoughts through nothing but his eyes, but she has to accept that he isn't the same person. Neither of them are. Time has changed them. Experiences. Pain. Life.

The dynamic they once held will never exist anymore, especially after tonight. As much as she has been trying to block them out because she knows his mind isn't fully there, she can not stop hearing him say those words.

I love you.

He was staring directly into her eyes when he said it. His voice was weak, yet strong enough to emphasize on love. For a second, it felt real. She saw the twinge in his lips, the ferocity in his eyes. Her entire body set itself on fire, and she lost control of her breathing. All she could do was drop her jaw and gawk at him. Her mind was buzzing, and words didn't exist. Elliot Stabler loves me. But then she felt the presence of his five children behind her, and it crushed the illusion. If the timing wasn't so shitty, like he said, she may have believed him.

She squeezes her eyes tightly shut, hoping to force sleep to overtake her body. But all she can see is his face. The tenderness, the realization, the regret, the frustration. What felt like an eternity of pure silence watching him physically rack his brain. Part of her always wanted to hear those words, but never with the look of regret to follow. Now, she never wants to hear those words escape his lips ever again. She will lose the little sanity she has left.

Her body is finally settling back into its sleep state when she jolts back into consciousness. She shuffles her bedding around and reaches over to find her phone still laying on the floor. It's quiet. She figured she was hearing things until the pounding echoes through her apartment again. Whipping off her covers in a huff, she climbs out of bed and heads toward the front door - arms folded, teeth clenched. She prays this doesn't wake Noah.

She peeks through the peep-hole, then undoes the locks and swings her door open in a fury. "What the hell?!" she gripes, glaring up at Elliot who, with dark circles and bloodshot eyes, looks like a zombie standing before her.

"I can't be alone," he whispers in defeat, hanging his head down to avoid her eyes. She's watching him intently, hoping that he is finally knocking down that last wall of defense. Her heart is aching for him, but she's tired of being trapped in this tornado, spinning around and around in an endless cycle.

Her face softens at his vulnerability. Seeing him like this, she can't be angry. It's easier to hang up the phone and close her eyes, but she could never shut the door on him. She can't be angry - it's impossible. "Yeah," she responds softly, "come in." She allows him to pass by her before locking the door back up. "Uh, you can have a seat on the couch. I'll get you some water."

After pouring him a cup of water, she joins him on the couch and offers the glass. She meets his eyes with an exhausted gaze, her eyes pleading with his. "Tell me you're done pushing me away."

He cracks a half-hearted smile. "Isn't that what we do best? We shut each other out when everything goes to hell."

"Elliot," she sighs with closed eyes. "That was then. I'm done being the people we were ten years ago. Just talk to me."

"I'm," he trails off, and she watches his face contort with a mix of emotions. "I'm trying." He leans forward and holds his face in his hands.

"Hey," she whispers, hesitantly reaching for him. She delicately grabs ahold of his forearm and tugs down. "Look at me." He lifts his head in response while she drags her hand down his arm to hold his hand in her grasp. "I know how hard it is to battle those demons in your mind. And I know it's even harder to vocalize them."

Elliot lets out a breathy laugh and slowly pulls his hand away. "You don't need to talk to me like a victim."

Olivia's lips curl down into frown and her eyes match the solemn expression. "I'm not. I'm talking to you as someone that understands."

"How?" he challenges. "Did you lose your spouse? Unless you and Fin both left out that vital information, I doubt you could possibly understand what I'm going through."

She leans back to add some distance and shifts to face away from him. She picks at her lip, debating if she should share anything from the past years. Simon. Tucker. William Lewis. She doesn't want to add to his already unhinged mental state, but she also doesn't want him to think she's offering fake sympathy. "I know what it's like to live with PTSD. The nightmares, the anxiety, the breakdowns."

"How?" he asks again, in a lower, more concerned tone. He leans towards her, hoping she will turn back to face him.

"Not tonight," she mumbles. "We've had enough shitty timing for one day." She twists around to look at him with a trying smile. She glances down to see his hand inviting hers back. Her line of sight meets his tired eyes again, and she decides to accept his offer, placing her hand in his.

"It's gotten easier?" he asks desperately, his forehead creasing.

"Yeah, once I stopped fighting," she admits. "Elliot, you have people that love you and want to help you." She squeezes his hand gently. Her eyes fall down to their enclosed hands. This is new territory for them - holding hands. It's comforting, but terrifying. She enjoys the feeling of his skin against hers too much, even if it is simply the palms of their hands.

"And that includes you?"

"You know that, El," she whispers. "I've always... I'm always here for you." His other hand covers the top of hers, and she clears her throat, suddenly feeling flustered. "You know I um, I'm going to grab a glass of water too," she says, pulling her hand away. Before she stands up, he slides his glass over to her side of the coffee table. She stares at it for too many beats. It feels familiar, yet equally foreign. He's the only person other than her son that she's never hesitated to share food or drinks with. "That's uh, that's okay. I can get my own," she stammers, with an empty smile.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Yeah I guess," she surrenders and reaches for the glass to take a sip of water. After setting it back on the table, she focuses her attention back to Elliot. "What's going through your head?" she asks. It has to be around 3am, and she'll be damned if they don't make some progress in this conversation tonight. She feels her eyes getting heavier, but she's giving everything to stay alert.

He's fixated on the black television screen in front of them, and by the way his eyes are glazed over, she can tell he's zoned out. "I'm tired," he responds, his voice flat. "I'm so fucking tired, Olivia."

She's concentrating on his face, searching for a flicker of emotion within his eyes and waiting for him to blink. He's in a fog, and she knows that all too well. How easy it was to fade out of her body, to settle into an emptiness. Stuck in a void of nothing. No thoughts, but too many thoughts. Pain, fear, confusion, exhaustion all taking turns holding her mind in a chokehold. She sees herself in him.

"I'm tired of running in circles. I feel like I'm finally making headway, then there's another spiderweb. It keeps getting deeper. And now..." he breaks away from the trance to seek out her eyes. "Knowing I wasn't the target. What does that mean?" He meets her eyes with desperation.

"I, I don't know," she whispers.

"It's taking everything out of me, and I can't keep fighting...That's why, that's how," he shakes his head, then rubs his left temple. "It slipped, but it wasn't a lie."

Olivia sighs uncomfortably, and leans into the back of the couch. "We don't have to..." she trails off. She can't have this conversation, not now. It's too fresh, and she's still trying to digest everything from earlier - the way he left her in that burning room to extinguish the flames he ignited.

"Liv," he says in a sturdier tone, leaning towards her. "I can't keep fighting this." She turns her head to face him, not expecting him to be this close. Her instincts are to create distance, but she stays frozen in place, her heavy eyes captivated with his. His hand lands on her cheek, and she looks down to ensure it's not a hallucination in all of her exhaustion. "It's too draining," he whispers, dropping his forehead to hers.

She feels his warm breath tickling her lips. "El," she whispers, "no." She grabs his hand and pulls it down, but allows it to stay laced with hers. "Too soon."

"Me and my shitty timing," he muses, trying to muster a smile.

She releases an airy laugh in response, "Yeah." She places her other hand overtop his and finds his eyes again. They're so weary. His irises look dull, the striking blue faded. "But I want you to lean on me, okay? You're going to get through this, and I'll be right at your side." He nods solemnly, accepting his current fate. "We both need to get some sleep now."

"Yeah," he agrees.

"Kathleen mentioned you've been on a couch this whole time?" she questions.

"Yeah, it's fine. I don't sleep much anyway," he shrugs.

"Well, how about a break? Go, uh, go take my bed," she offers, gesturing towards the hallway.

He furrows his brows. "What, no. I'm good. I can take over Eli's while he's with Maureen."

"It's after 3, Elliot. Just stay here," she insists. "C'mon, don't fight me on this if you're tired of fighting. I'll just grab a pillow and blanket from my room and crash out here." She stands from the couch and heads back to her bedroom. After a moment of contemplation, Elliot gives in and follows her.

When he enters, she's pulling a pillow off of her bed. "You're sure?" he asks.

"Yes," she says while beginning to yawn. "Maybe you'll actually get a few solid hours in." She walks over to her closet and reaches for an extra blanket stored up on a high shelf. "Settle in," she urges, leaving her room, but she hears a faint Liv. She twists around and steps back in.

"I really don't want to be alone," he admits, displaying a pleading look across his face.

"I don't think..." she mumbles, shaking her head and avoiding eye contact. She knows this is dangerous. The two of them have walked a thin line over the years, always pushing boundaries. As partners. As friends. As two people that share an unequivocal connection, of an invisible string tying them together yet another force keeping enough distance between them.

"I'm doing what you want, yeah? I'm leaning on you. So, please. Stay."

She gives him the tiniest nod and a nearly silent okay before softly closing the door behind her. She approaches her bed in slow motion, an unknown energy driving her legs forward. It can't be her brain orchestrating her movements anymore. As she's adjusting her pillow back on the mattress, Elliot is slipping under the covers. It's a sight she never expected to see in this lifetime. But she follows suit, crawling under the comforter and settling on her back.

"I'm tired of being alone too," she whispers, honestly. Elliot looks over at her, but she's staring at the ceiling.

"I don't know how you are," he responds quietly. She switches her focus from above to the man lying beside her, and raises an eyebrow in question. "Anyone would be lucky to be with you," he adds.

She lets out a light chuckle and shut her eyes, unable to keep them open any longer. "Except that I always hold myself back. It never feels quite right," she discloses, another yawn erupting which provokes one from him as well. "Night," she mumbles and rolls onto her side with her back to him.

Only a couple minutes pass by, and she hears a light snoring from behind her. She smiles at the sound, not expecting herself to feel so comforted by his sleeping presence next to her. Not much longer, and she is finally, finally drifting off into a much-needed slumber.

Sunlight is streaming through the cracks of her blinds, and she wakes from a buzzing. She blinks a few times to adjust to the brightness and reaches for her phone, but she finds herself constricted. She glances down to find the source of the restraint. Elliot's arm is draped over her side, hugging her waist. That's when she registers his firm body molded against hers and his steady breaths dancing in her hair.

Instead of fighting, she decides to revel in this feeling for a moment. She closes her eyes and softens against him, releasing the tension. She knows it's wrong to enjoy this, but just for a couple minutes, she wants to appreciate the intimacy of being held like this. She's missed this kind of closeness with another human. It feels good. It isn't lonely.

Reality sinks in quicker than she prefers. She needs to check who called, get up and make Noah breakfast, go to her job, fall back into normalcy. "Elliot," she says softly, tapping gently at his arm.

"Hmm," he groans, stirring lightly as his body works to regain consciousness. She tries to wriggle out of his grip, but he responds by holding her tighter. She sighs, both irritated and amused by his half-conscious behavior. She folds her hand over his forearm and tugs. "Not yet," he mumbles, burying his face in her hair to kiss the back of her neck, and she stiffens at the gesture. Yet she can't prevent the chills that explode across her skin as well as the flutter of her heartbeat.

"Gotta get up," she responds, trying to sound calm despite feeling the exact opposite. She eventually breaks free from his grasp and sits up lazily, swinging her legs to the side of the bed.

"Liv," he complains, drawing out her name dramatically.

"You can go back to sleep. I have to attend to my son and get to work. Are you supposed to be in at 8 today?" she asks, running her fingers through her messy hair.

"Mhmm."

"I'll call your sergeant. Go back to sleep." She stands up and looks back at him. It's the first time he looks peaceful since he walked back into her life, surrounded by all of those flashing lights. She picks up her phone to find it's already past 9:00am, and her eyes widen in shock. She has a missed call from Amanda and Fin, as well a text from both of them asking where she is and if she is okay.

As quietly as she can manage, she digs through her drawers and closet to gather an outfit for the day. She turns back to check on Elliot who is out cold again. Fuck it, she thinks then strips out of her pajamas.

Once she's presentable, she rushes out of her room to encounter the faded sound of the television and distant laughter. She rounds the corner and discovers Noah curled up on the couch with a bowl of cereal and Lucy beside him. "Lucy!" she exclaims. "Hi, oh gosh, I'm sorry." She walks over to them and gives Noah a kiss atop his head. "Good morning, Noah. You sleep good?"

"Yeah!" he responds, staying fixated on the cartoons. "Did someone come over last night?" he asks, then shovels a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

That catches her off guard. She was hoping he slept through all of the commotion. "Yeah, a friend came over. He needed some help," she explains.

"Oh," he says casually. "A new friend?"

She blinks at his sudden curiosity. "Sort of. A friend that I haven't seen in a long time. I'm sorry we woke you."

"That's okay."

She motions to Lucy to meet her in the kitchen. Olivia lowers her voice when she joins her, "He's still here. I think he will be asleep for a couple more hours though. God knows he needs it."

"Are you referring to-"

"Yeah. He was a wreck last night."

Lucy nods. "Noah mentioned he heard you up. Figured you needed to sleep in. Well, I'll get him ready for the day, and we'll go out to the park. Let him get out of here," she nods in the direction of Olivia's room. "Oh, and Amanda called me asking if I knew where you were. I just told her you'd be in late." She smiles warmly up at Olivia.

"You're the best. Thank you," she replies, giving the young girl a gentle squeeze on her shoulder.

Olivia brews a pot of coffee while she finishes her morning routine. She checks in on Elliot one more time before heading out. Still sound asleep. Still peaceful. It's such a refreshing sight before her. It brings a genuine smile to her face, and she closes the door again carefully.

"Enjoy your early weekend, sweet boy," Olivia exclaims to her son as she bends down to give a hug goodbye. "I love you."

"Love you, Mom," he smiles.

"Thank you, Lucy," she calls as she walks out the door.

On her way into work, Olivia gives Sergeant Bell a call to brief her on the situation regarding her detective. As she expected, his superior is gracious and understanding of Elliot's position. She makes a mental note that when she arrives to work, she needs to shoot him a text for him to see when he wakes up. When he wakes up in her bed. Envisioning how she shared her bed with Elliot Stabler last night and awoke to his body pressed against hers makes her feel delusional. Her skin feels seared in the places he touched her: the back of her neck where he languidly kissed her, the exposed skin on her belly where her shirt was hiked up from his arm, his foot brushing hers when he grabbed her tighter. Evidence. She was wrapped up in him, and she knows she will never erase how it felt.

Even though the timing couldn't get any shittier.

TBC