AN: Hello! Aside from the obvious disclaimer that I own nothing, I just wanted to mention that I also don't exactly have a ton of knowledge about police files work. So just humor me? Maybe there would be no way for Elliot to read Liv's file, but hey, humor me for the angst.
This chapter is a little intense, so read with caution. TW of abuse, but only lightly mentioned. Things will get better, but they start a little rough. EO is endgame, but they have issues to work through first.
Okay, onward!
It's an unusual group: Oliva, Elliot, Fin and Amanda. They're at a bar near the precinct letting off some steam before the weekend. Olivia convinced Elliot to join them even though he wanted no part of it. He liked being around her, of course. Fin was okay, too. But Amanda Rollins? She's still a stranger to him. A stranger who—judging from the short time they've spent together— does not like him.
Olivia orders a gin and tonic; a departure from her usual glass of red wine. She's just so tired from the week and thinks one glass of wine and she'll fall right to sleep. She takes a small sip, but she can practically taste it before it even hits her tongue: vodka. She chokes, setting down her glass and pushing it away. She positions her hand over her chest, feeling her rapid heartbeat. Breathe, she tells herself, closing her eyes.
"Liv," Amanda treads carefully. "You good?" It wouldn't take a detective to know she is not good, but Amanda doesn't push.
"Mhm." Olivia replies through tightly sealed lips. She waits another moment before slowly opening her eyes. Her friends are looking at her with concern and it's making her uncomfortable. "Sorry," she forces a small smile. "I'm fine."
Elliot instinctively rolls his eyes but hopes she doesn't notice.
She does notice. Of course, she does. She notices everything about him lately; hyper-aware of his every move it seems. It comes from a place of concern. For him, for his children—for the entire population of New York City if she's being honest.
"Liv?" Amanda lightly presses Olivia's forearm, startling her. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"
"It's okay." Olivia cuts in, embarrassed to be acting so jumpy. The room feels so small, like there isn't enough oxygen. "I'll um, I'll be right back. I just…" She trails off, clumsily maneuvering down from her seat. "Give me five minutes." Her voice wavers slightly as she heads for the door.
Amanda reaches for Olivia's glass and smells her drink. She frowns, setting it back down: vodka tonic, heavy on the vodka. "I'm just gonna—" She motions toward the door.
"Wait, let me?" Elliot interrupts.
"Nah, it's okay." Amanda eyes Fin. Back me up, here. She wills him to react but he's quiet. "You guys catch up. I got this." I'm her friend, she wants to say. I'm the one who's been here. She doesn't understand the full extent of Elliot and Olivia's relationship. How could she? Sure, she knows bits and pieces, but she also knows he disappeared without a word—no goodbye—nothing. She's protective of her captain, her friend, just like Olivia would for her if the situation was reversed.
"Let him go, Manda." Fin cuts in.
"Seriously?" She rolls her eyes, flustered.
"Please." Elliot hesitates. "Amanda," he uses her first name which clearly catches her off-guard. "I'm not…I'm not gonna hurt her." She turns away and he knows he struck a nerve. "You're protective, I get it. Believe me." If anyone understands being protective of Olivia, it's him. "But I'm not gonna hurt her."
"Better not." Amanda mutters, idly playing with a sugar packet from the table. "Fine." She surrenders, clearly dissatisfied.
"Thank you." He grabs Olivia's coat before heading outside.
"What?" Amanda glares at Fin. "Don't look so smug. I'm blaming you if he fucks this up."
"You gotta give the man a chance, Manda."
"I just did." She reasons, her eyes wide. "What? Did I not just give him a chance?"
"Here." Fin grins, moving the basket of fries closer. "Just eat some fries." He placates her with fried food and honestly? It works.
Meanwhile, outside, Olivia paces. She found a relatively quiet spot to the right of the bar. You're okay, she soothes. You're here. Just breathe. Her eyes dart, identifying five things she can see. It's part of a grounding technique she uses to stay present.
Bricks. Obvious choice since she's leaning on them. Gray sky, she looks up, breathing slowly and intentionally. Leaves. Gum on the sidewalk, she inhales through her nose, exhales out her mouth. Shoelaces.
Next, she closes her eyes, listening for four sounds she can hear. Sirens, always sirens, wind, traffic—
"You forgot your coat."
Elliot? Olivia keeps her eyes closed, unsure if his voice is real.
"Liv?" He repeats, concerned.
Oh. Her eyes flutter open. "Don't need it."
"Seriously? It's freezing out here."
"I'm fine, El."
"Like hell you are." A bit aggressive, but his tone is gentle somehow.
"Excuse me?" She turns to face him.
"Will you just take it?" He's relieved when she reluctantly snatches it from his grasp, but she doesn't put it on. "You don't look fine."
"Thank you." Her eyes roll. "I just need a minute, okay?"
Olivia is guarded but Elliot can't blame her. He's guarded with her, too. With everyone. He takes one step closer, mindful to keep some distance between them.
"I'm good. Honestly." She doesn't want him to get any closer. "Save me some fries." She tries lightening the mood but he doesn't budge. She feels raw, exposed and above all, incredibly anxious.
"Elliot, what?" Olivia snaps. She tilts her head, looking at him. Really looking at him. He looks so sad, defeated almost. "Are you okay?" Her concern shifts when he doesn't answer. "El, what's wrong?"
"I, uh," He runs his palm over his head, eyes fixed downward.
"What is it?" She pushes off the wall. "Come on, you're making me nervous." She's so gentle.
He looks into her eyes and they're filled with concern for him. He feels guilty and squeezes his eyes shut.
"El," she gently presses his forearm. "You with me?"
"Yeah. Sorry." He focuses on her touch. I don't deserve you, he thinks. "Liv I um…I," he hesitates once more, his voice quiet. "I read your file." Olivia stumbles back as if he physically pushed her. This was not how he imagined having this conversation.
She's against the wall again, thankful for its support because her knees are weak. She feels it again, the deep onset of panic. Olivia knows the sensation well. She felt it when she tasted vodka instead of gin, but it's more intense now. There's a pit in her stomach; heat radiating throughout her body. She tightens and protectively wraps her arms around herself, dropping her coat on the ground.
Elliot sees the color drain from her face. You said you wouldn't hurt her, he remembers the promise he made to Amanda just minutes earlier.
"I don't understand." Olivia finally speaks, scratching her head. She understands, of course, but stalls. "You read what file."
"Liv," he sighs. "You know what I'm talking about."
"Mmm, no," she shakes her head. "I'm not so sure I do."
It's quiet except for the hum of traffic. The wind picks up. It blows wildly through Olivia's hair but she doesn't bother brushing it away from her face.
"Lewis." Elliot mutters under his breath, finally.
He sees her flinch. Then, more silence.
"Okay," Olivia feels bile rise in her throat. She's using her palm to steady herself against the wall. The cold brick against her warm skin anchors her. "Okay." She closes her eyes.
"Olivia,"
"Elliot," she interrupts, her voice surprisingly even. "I need you to go."
He shifts but doesn't move. No. No, you don't. You're testing me. You want to see if I'll leave again.
"Right now." She clarifies. I don't want to confront you, she thinks. He's still hurting. Still so raw from Kathy's death. Olivia supports him as much as he'll allow, but it's getting difficult to consider his feelings when her own are spiraling.
"Wait," he starts, but is at a loss. "I fucked up, okay? I fucked up and I'm sorry." He waits for her to say something. Anything. "I'm so sorry."
"Mhm. Yeah, I…I heard you." She nods. "Okay." Olivia feels so hot despite the cold temperature. She's wavering between past and present, losing her grip on reality. "I'm gonna say it again," she takes a breath, desperate for air. "I need you to go."
Elliot still doesn't move. No, you don't.
"Please don't make me say it a third time, El."
He can see the tears stinging her eyes and knows how hard she's fighting to keep them back. "I just," he stumbles over his words. "I know vodka's a trigger and I—"
"You know vodka's a trigger?" Olivia interrupts, narrowing her eyes.
"Your file—"
"Oh, stop it with the fucking file." She snaps, watching his mouth fall open. She almost feels guilty. Almost. "I need…" she loosens the top buttons of her blouse, desperate to cool down.
"Tell me." Anything. I'll do anything.
"I need you to realize something, okay?" She barely recognizes her voice. "You don't," she hesitates. I don't want to hurt you, she thinks once again. "You don't actually know anything because you weren't there."
She takes measured breaths, waiting for Elliot to react but he doesn't. He remains still, rocking back on his heels.
"You weren't there, Elliot." Olivia repeats. She tries to stop but the anger, no, the heat inside of her is too much. "You weren't there…" she swallows. "…when he forced vodka down my throat. And not just vodka, but I'm sure you already know that," she shrugs. "It's in the file."
"Liv, come on."
"You weren't there when he burned me, when he—" She presses a few fingers over her mouth, silencing herself. She can't break down. She won't. "You know what? Nevermind." She shakes her head. "We're done here. I'm done here."
Don't shut me out, Elliot thinks. But hasn't he been doing the exact same thing since he's been back in New York? Back off, Liv, he'd said. He pried into her life and now she's putting up a wall. He would do the same in her position—probably worse—but he isn't giving Olivia the same courtesy. No, he literally has her backed against a wall.
"You had no right to snoop into my life like that." Olivia interrupts his thoughts, her tone stronger now. "You left. And you," she points her finger at him. "Told me to back off. And then you—" Her breathing is erratic.
"Liv?" He notices it too.
"I would have told you," She whispers, feeling hurt but angry, so angry. "When I was ready. When we were ready."
He takes a hesitant step toward her but she turns away. He backs up, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"When." Olivia asks, though it comes out more like a statement.
"Sorry?" Elliot rasps, his voice thick with emotion.
She gives him a look.
"Three days ago."
Three days ago, he read her file. Three days ago, his curiosity got the better of him because Olivia just knew too much about PTSD. Three days ago, he cried for her; agonized over his decision to leave. Three days ago, he read about the worst four days of her life.
Olivia nods. "Would have been ironic if it were four."
"Liv." He warns.
"When were you going to tell me?" She could almost laugh. "Were you? Going to tell me?"
"I—" I don't know.
She holds up her palm. "You know what? It doesn't matter." Olivia bites. "It doesn't matter because now you know." She's being passive-aggressive. Admittedly a little less passive than aggressive. "You read my file and you know."
"God Olivia, will you stop it? I don't know a damn thing." His temper—always his temper. "Sorry." He mumbles, rubbing his eyes.
They don't look at each other while they wait out the silence for a few for moments.
"Well, you were right, El." Olivia smiles sadly. "Vodka is a trigger. I hate the smell of it. God, I hate it. But the taste?" She blinks. "The taste puts me right back there. With him." She clears her throat. "So, what I need from you right now," She emphasizes, leaning forward. "Is some time alone to slow down my heart rate before I have a full-blown panic attack."
He flinches. You pushed too hard. You always do.
"So please, Elliot… please. Go." Her eyes plead as much, if not more than, her words.
Go, he thinks, but he can't move. He actually wants to, but he feels frozen in place.
Olivia waits about fifteen seconds before grabbing her coat off the ground, brushing past him. "Fucking stubborn." She hisses, rounding the corner before disappearing inside the bar.