Chapter Two: Justified

Title: Age of Regret

Rating: M

Category: Angst/SVU&OC-Crossover/Hurt/Comfort/Romance/UST/RST/The Infamous Letter

Summary: He poured his heart out and she poured a drink—but it wasn't enough. She needed to see his face. She wanted to hear his voice. She yearned for confirmation.

"Take a chance. Take a risk. Find that passion and rekindle it. Fall in love all over again. It's really worth it." – Bryan Cranston

Note: I know that so many people have done a letter fic and I am only adding to the never-ending pile. Aside from a couple that I have beta read, I have not gotten to dive in to read any. I've been a terrible reader lately but, sometimes, the muse strikes and we must feed her. Please note that this letter is written with the idea in mind that it was composed before Kathy's death. It was written while he was still in Rome. This chapter is the follow-up to the letter; to the period of time after the park and before Olivia scares Elliot out of his skin after Richard Wheatley has had his father executed. This is what I imagined with the sequence of events surrounding Olivia reading the letter. Enjoy.

If there's even a slight chance

Of getting something that will make you happy,

Risk it.

Life's too short, and happiness is too rare.

-A.R. Lucas

11:30 PM

Olivia had to wait an extra hour for the quiet solace and comfort of a dimmed bedroom. Noah fought bedtime for the third time despite the visible exhaustion after playing in fresh snow longer than he should have for the fourth day running. She wanted that kind of energy. She admired him one last time, in the soft glow of his night light, clutching one of his stuffed animals and a book, before pulling the door shut with a gentle tap. Her mind was elsewhere. Engrossed in the envelop that was still perched on the edge of her nightstand.

Haunting every corner of her mind.

Pushing her closer to becoming transfixed and borderline obsessed.

"I need a drink," Olivia muttered and let the letter touch the finished wood before moving to the kitchen for a glass of wine.

There was fear entwined in unfolding and consuming the thoughts of Elliot Stabler. Olivia had held on to the singular mentality that moving on meant letting go. Letting go of his memory, the feel of his comforting embrace, the lingering scent of his aftershave on the hoodie she'd taken. The same aftershave that had burrowed into the fibers of her jacket when he crumbled at the hospital to cry. There was no escaping it now. He was all over her.

Everywhere and nowhere, weaving in and out of the empty spaces as though he'd been let in willingly.

For Olivia.

It was scrawled across the front, in the loops and lines of Elliot Stabler's mixture of standard penmanship and cursive. Remarkably legible, unmistakably masculine, and yet, rhythmic in its composition. He had taken his time to write it and even more time to get it to her. Olivia held the wine in one hand and sank against the mattress, her eyes glued to the letters as though they prophesized her undoing. She felt the weight of the world pushing against her shoulders as the lure of ripping it apart and tossing it into the trash kicked in, nagging at her in the voice of her mother.

Stop dragging your feet and read it, Olivia.

Olivia picked it up, chewed her lip, and set it on the edge of the pillow to her left, groaning at the concept of how angry it was already making her. "You're not even here and you're already pissing me off, Elliot Stabler. What gives you the fucking right to keep letting yourself into my head? I didn't invite you."

Olivia let the first swallow of Pinot settle against her tongue, staring at the pale against the powder blue. She tilted it and turned it with her index, letting another wave of anxiety wash over her as the skeletons came tumbling out of the closet. They were the reminders of everything she'd hidden away and everything she thought she still had left to lose. Olivia heaved a heavy sigh, reached for the envelope, and held it between her thumb and index, watching as the light washed over it while she leaned against the headboard for stability. Another inhale filled her lungs and her eyes glassed over as she drank a little more, ignoring the sensory overload of wondering.

Was it so loaded that Elliot couldn't just open his mouth and say it to her face?

Despite every urge to pretend she hadn't begun to cross the bridge, Olivia's curiosity far outweighed the growing upheaval in her belly, throwing caution to the wind with the tilted glass of liquid courage. Olivia stepped off the ledge as she put the glass down and tore the envelope closure open. There would be no looking back now. Olivia swallowed hard, reality set in with the deep fold of the page behind the curve toward the ceiling. She could already see the ink through the back of the paper, bleeding through to only pull her further.

"I don't know if I can do this," Olivia held still folded paper in her hand, the odor of ink permeating, clashing against the Northern California wine just feet away. "I can't mourn him twice. I can't. I can't do this."

Olivia had gotten good at smothering her emotions. An expert at the façade of I'm fine even if the bleeding had never actually stopped. The unbearable truth was that Elliot Stabler had missed so much. It might have been too much. Olivia had already shed those tears, dried them, and held them back countless times. It wasn't the time nor the place to fall apart even though it would be all too easy, cathartic, and comfortable to do. It was the price of trauma.

The price of pretending.

Semper Fidelis

"Jesus," Olivia gasped at the words at the top of the page, just above her name, and felt the hot, wet streak burning her waterline as she welled up in an instant. "Oh, my God, his wife just died and I'm hanging on a fucking phrase as though it means something. I've lost my fucking mind."

Ten years. Ten long years, Olivia.

Elliot was certainly right about every bit of that sentiment and Olivia couldn't look away. She was caught in the whirlwind of words, like being held in a tractor beam or magnetically pulled closer. Elliot Stabler had poured his heart out in two pages of blue ink and Olivia was halfway to tears as she reached for the wine. He didn't even need to be there for her to fall apart at the seams; he just needed to take ten years to write a letter, leave her with the choice to read it or leave it be. Elliot was no fool, though.

Olivia wasn't capable of leaving it in the dark, not when the stakes were already so high.

Even though I have lost my faith in a lot of things, Olivia Benson, never once have I lost it in you.

"Why do you always know exactly what to say that will finish breaking me every single time?" Olivia could've walked away, let it pass, and forgotten the searing pain in her chest after he sobbed over the loss of Kathy but this finished robbing her of solidarity as she wiped a stray tear. "Goddammit, Elliot. Why?"

Olivia continued to read and layer by layer, the emotions began to wind and scatter across her already wounded heart. She sniffed the air and silently prayed that she hadn't been loud enough to wake Noah but couldn't hold in the hurt any longer. Olivia thumbed the paper, moving her print across the texture changes between ink indentation and lined paper while she allowed her soul to break free to feel the ache that every phrase had inflicted. Admitting how much she missed him would mean that she'd have to confront a piece of herself that she'd never fully retreated from.

Retracing those steps led to another cycle of pain that she didn't know how to come back from. At least not alone.

Just call me the Elliot Stabler that didn't want to admit to himself that he had fallen in love with his partner, his best friend, the one woman he has never deserved. Liv, God, I'm so sorry. I could march to the roof and shout it but it wouldn't change the fact that you deserve to know that I love you.

"No, you don't get to tell me you love me on paper. You don't get to hide behind the page and confess as though you're at confession…it's not your priest," Olivia reached for the glass as hurt collided with anger and a sob escaped before she could drown it in the glass. "Elliot fucking Stabler, you don't get to tell me this in a letter. Say it face-to-face."

The words blurred together and the ink smeared with the introduction of tears as her digits slid across the surface. The one thing she didn't want was happening as Olivia could no longer hold the pieces together while she contemplated the space that resided beside her. Olivia was struggling to cope and all she wanted was to see his face. Even if Elliot were to deny every fathomable detail that he had written as he drank his bourbon, he'd have to look Olivia in the eye. Perhaps, somewhere, in the back of her mind, the yearning only grew to know if it could be true.

The confirmation would mean the world.

Ti amo, sempre, El.

Olivia folded the pages and slipped the evidence of its existence beneath her pillow before finishing the last of her wine. Elliot Stabler had awakened something within Olivia Benson that had been lying dormant. She wanted to believe that he wouldn't still be able to rattle her but she felt him reverberating in her core, pushing instinct and betraying carefully constructed safety nets as she reached for her cell phone. It shouldn't have been this way but it was. She wanted everything and nothing as she held the phone to her cheek.

"Lucy? I hope I'm not interrupting your night…no, no everything is fine," Olivia feverishly wiped her tears and slid out of the bed, taking one last look at the corner of paper as it peeked out from beneath the pillow. "I need a favor."

How much I missed, simply

Because I was afraid of

Missing it.

-Paulo Coelho

1:15 AM

Olivia paced the floor and stopped between the motions to peer outside, at passing cars. The doorman had told her Elliot hadn't been there yet and, for a moment, she contemplated leaving. The letter was still with her, though. Every word, line, sentiment, had slipped into her thoughts and set up residence. It was all she could think about and it was consuming her, layer by hopeless layer. He had never left her mind after he left but she hadn't been preoccupied this badly by concerning herself with wondering about the next conversation she'd have with him.

It was sad, almost pathetic.

"Why am I doing this?" Olivia couldn't help asking herself as she leaned against the column, her eyes on the time and head in the clouds as both knees went a little weak thinking about the conversation she was about to have. "This is crazy."

It might've been lunacy but Olivia wasn't leaving. Elliot had a hold on her in the worst of ways. He always did and some habits were harder to break; even after years apart. She could replay that moment of hearing him say Liv from a distance over and over, looped in the endless refrain. The betrayal didn't reside in knowing it still made her ache but that it could still pull at the strings of her heart at every moment of the day. Powerless. Control revoked. Vulnerability on display.

"Elliot," Olivia didn't mean to startle him but the moment his name came speeding from her lips, she knew she had as his expression, along with his body, froze.

Deer in the headlights.

The shared glance held no relief but only added to the rising tension as a mutual affectation was evident. Elliot didn't expect to see Olivia and Olivia didn't think she'd beat Elliot to the lobby. He wasn't ready to talk and neither was she if she were being honest with herself. The wine had worn off and the only intoxicant in the air was the combination of aftershave and sweat as his blood pressure climbed. Awkwardness replaced the hurt and sadness as Olivia hesitated, swallowed her gumption, and buried the set of circumstances that led her there without warning.

"What are you doing here?" Elliot could have leaped from his skin at the sight of Olivia as he spun around, the color all but gone from his face.

What happened to the man that wrote that letter?

Olivia retreated mentally, the regret creeping in as she chewed the inside of her cheek and searched those eyes for meaning. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Elliot's smile was fake and wracked by anxiety even as he took steps toward Olivia then backing up just as fast. "Why are you here?"

"I was over at Hunt's Point," Olivia pulled the lie from thin air like a seasoned pro and pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she tried to eclipse the distance between them, seeking him out. "I read your letter…I thought we'd talk about it?"

It was simple, really, but he looked more like the cat that ate the canary. Guilty, jumpy, unexpectedly apprehensive by her presence. Olivia knew better and knew Elliot better. This was the neurotic Elliot Stabler that had gotten himself in over his head. The worst part was that Elliot's mannerisms were radiating like heat and Olivia felt her nerves become just as keyed up as he was. Despite how overwrought he'd become, the restlessness only drew her in like a mouse at the edge of a trap.

"I wanna talk, I do," Elliot unclenched his jaw as he spun around, the overstrung twitches sending every mixed signal toward Olivia as she stared at him while he fidgeted near the elevators. "I just can't right now."

"Oh," Olivia scrutinized his movements, his jumpiness, and her eyes widened as he forced an insincere smile in her direction. "Are you working?"

Elliot didn't answer the question as his bad habit of pushing the truth to the backburner came pushing to the surface with ease. "…I gotta go."

The shock didn't have time to sink in as he left her there. Left her reeling. Left her to cope again and fixate on what he knew he had written. It was the wrong time; for a discussion, for a confrontation, for the expectation of a reprieve. Olivia pressed her lips together, watched from a distance, and purged the sensation as it crawled to the surface once more. There would be no remission tonight.

No mercy. No deliverance.

It was the only thing that Olivia still cried out for.

Quotes by:

Bryan Cranston

A.R. Lucas

Paulo Coelho

There's a lot of things that I could say but the thing that rings true…is that love is complicated and I believe that this kind is as complicated as it can get. There will be one more part. I hope this experiment is accepted…it is not my usual.