3. Need
His boss calls her twice before she gets the chance to text her while they are about to break for recess in court.
"Captain, I need to talk to you about your partner. Call me when you can. Not urgent but important..."
She feels her stomach drop at the text and puts her mask on quickly before standing up and moving her way through the sea of people leaving the court.
Your partner?
It's not just his sergeant that has said this but everyone that has found out he is back and sees her. No matter how much they changed they are still so incredibly linked together in the eyes of so many. The department, the bureau, friends, colleagues. It's something she accepts but refuses to acknowledge. She just can't.
"Hi, I'm sorry I was in court..is Elliot okay?" She leans back against a cold wall in an empty hallway away from everyone to make the call.
"He's okay but I am concerned, Olivia. I know you are all he's got now and he really trusts you..." She feels her heart sinking at how this is all so transparent now.
Feelings she tucked away and hid she thought so deeply that all they were now were light scars that barely grade the surface or what's there.
This wasn't the case anymore.
"He's doing his job and I know he's really trying for the sake of his kids. They are here all the time checking in and I know you are close with the family...but something is off..." Olivia closes her eyes when she heard the worried sigh of his superior.
She doesn't know much about Bell just that she is a smart woman and a damn good sergeant , Olivia knows that much.
One that has no idea of their dynamic no more than what was left on his files. She only
Knows what was set in paper in Times New Roman and tucked away in Manila folders.
So for her to be calling means something is wrong which she knows, how could she not.
But he conceals it all so close to the vest and it's only been a little over a year, it's hard for her to wrap her head around this all.
"I know, trust me...I've been trying to help and make sure he goes to his therapy but...it's complicated..." she finds herself wanting to cringe every time she is forced into saying the only word that comes to mind with him, with them.
"I thought us finding the son of a bitch that killed his wife would have helped and it has I think with his grieving but something else is missing...I'm not sure it's my place to ask either, Cap" Bell lays it out to her in a quiet tone over her speaker pressed close to her ear with a shaken hand.
It's hard to grasp how many layers this runs through so deeply. That in his absence he destroyed her how he left but in his return, she is stronger than ever because she simply has no other choice. It doesn't mean that this isn't killing her either.
The feelings have magnified, the pain still lingers but there is still so much unsaid.
Questions they dare never ask outside of what he poured out in that letter. The one she scanned her eyes over only once before shoving it in an old bag in her closet and never going back to read it again.
She couldn't. It's something she can't process.
"He's a good cop and from what I can see an even better dad so you need to get through to him. Some days he looks like he could unravel and I don't want that for him, or for my task force because we need him. I need him.." Bell is a straight shooter, no BS, no run around or anything like that and Olivia is so glad for that but it scares her too.
She doesn't know what to make of this all and has to end the call before she has to go back to the courtroom.
"I will talk to him.. Or at least I'll continue to try to, thank you for reaching out, Serg"
—
He has been giving her one word texts or just straight out ignoring her for two days before she decides to go to his apartment.
His home where she hasn't been in months, not since she helped his family prepare his home and get things together in the weeks following his wife's funeral.
It looks like a home now even if it isn't lived in much and he does nothing but sleep in there.
It's modern and clean but has a great view and close to Eli's school.
She lets herself in when she knocks and finds the door slightly ajar and hears his voice signalling her in.
"El...where's Eli?" It's nearly pitch dark and this just feels off. It's so quiet in his living room it's scaring her the silence.
He's just standing perfectly still in his apartment facing the window overlooking the city.
"Soccer...he is staying at a friends they have practice first thing in morning..." he's so monotone it's almost as if he rehearsed that, just enough words to explain and not a syllable more.
She can see he has a drink low in his hand tangling from his fingertips as he swirls it by his side anxiously.
"We need to talk, El...I'm worried and I know you are sick of hearing that and I know that you need..." he snaps his neck at her and squints his eyes.
"You don't know anything about what I need.." he brings the drink to his lips and finishes the rest of it in one go. She can smell the whisky on him from where she's standing and it makes her lips burn.
"Let me help. I want to help you in any way tell me... please" she pleads.
There is so much pain shared between them and now that they are back in each other's lives it's beyond complicated. Its too much for her to verbalize or even wrap up and compartmentalize at this time even.
"You've helped enough, you helped when I don't even know how you could stomach to look at me...you did more than help," he looks so empty inside, so still and so tired.
"Please El...you can't keep doing this...just tell me I understand I do...what is it that you need?" He hates how maternal and soft and wise she is in these moments. It makes him feel so trivial and untamed.
"It would make your fucking head spin.." he barks at her before shaking his head in his own disbelief.
"Tell me trust me...El it's me..." she is scared of him. Not knowing where this will go or what he will say or how it will all end is beyond her.
They might work well together but she no longer can anticipate him in the ways she did before. She doesn't know what he's capable of anymore.
She sees him turn off. He may be a mere couple of feet away but he's checked out. She can see it all over his face. He's disassociating and distancing himself from her as he looks out the window blankly.
"Oh is that it you're going to block me out again, you vanish off the face of the earth for ten years going to do it again? Make it twenty!" She is yelling, she's weak, she's tired and she knows this is going to explode.
"Stop it, Olivia" he warns her once.
"That why you didn't ever want me to talk about that letter? The letter that we pretend doesn't exist where you tell me that you love me? Love? Do you even know what that is to say to me..after all this time to say that," she looks disgusted and absolutely exhausted by him and this all.
"To say you thought about me and cried for me and that you prayed for me every single night from the other side of the world? Are you fucked?" She is on fire and won't stop now.
"You vanish, I don't ask a question and you write me a letter a decade after the fact, a letter we can't even talk about... this is so, so fucked up! You should have stayed in Rome."
He charges at her then, only time he's ever done this was in interrogation the day before his wife died. That was almost two years ago.
It's not any less scary or intense or shocking. He has her arms squeezed tightly. It hurts. It stills her.
"I warned you to leave, Olivia," he shakes her hard by her arms, "I can't fix everything, you can't fix me..." he's the one yelling now, she is trying not to shake but he's being so aggressive.
His eyes never ever leaving hers, red and brimmed with tears.
"Get your fucking hands off me.." she goes to shake herself out of his grasp but can't. His fingers are pressing in tightly on her upper arms.
"That's the thing...if you can't handle this you can't help me with what I need.." he slowly releases his grip on her arms. She steps back and looks at him. He lets her go and tosses his arms down and starts to walk away from her.
"I beg your pardon?" She is livid. She is coming apart at the seams. Everything that was buried. Everything they failed to say in the aftermath of his return and all the tragedy.
Everything she did for him without hesitation with him, for him.
"You want to know what I need? I need you to stop trying to mother me and take care of me! I'm not a vic or a kid or your fucking project you got that?" He's pointing his finger in her face and she wants to smack it away or break it. She's livid now.
"Mother you? I got one kid, Elliot. He's my priority. You are nothing but a ghost to me. You are just a loose cannon that I keep getting assigned to try and control..."
She regrets the words the minute they leave her mouth. He's charging at her again but this time he grabs her by her jacket with one hand the other holding her by her chin. Forcing her eyes to meet his. Her mouth open in shock and the force of his hold.
This is not him.
This is scaring her.
"Assigned? Assigned? My wife had to get me to move continents in order to leave you...she knew you were just like me...fucked" he lets go of her then and steps back.
It's that moment she stalks forward and slaps him across his face. They both stop. He smiles at the burn she left there and grabs her hand hard. She's never ever hit him, they have never ever been physical with each other ever. Not never ever, ever.
She goes to leave but her legs and arms weak, heavy and shaking. She goes to move and he swings her around rough and pulls her into him, forcing her into a hug. His arms squeezing her so strong around her waist, holding her arms down her sides so she can't move.
"Wanna know what I need, I need to be treated like I'm not damaged fucking goods you got that? You want to help me huh? Treat me like a man. Not your fucked up ex partner or a charity case but a man..." she doesn't know what to say, her hand still burns from the impact of it rushing across his face.
Before she knows it he's yanking her jacket down and off. He's pulling her shirt out of her pants and roughly grabbing her everywhere.
Her hips, her arms, the back of her neck. He can't stop. He nuzzles his face into her hair and sighs loudly.
"Make me feel fucking good..." he breaths into her hair directly beside her ear as his hands grab at her hips and run up her bare back under her shirt. He pulls her in as close as he can and holds her still.
She goes to shake herself out of his hard and smothering grasp but can't.
"Make me feel good, Liv.." he groans in her ear and squeezes her ass with both hands moving her up between his thigh now wedged between her legs. Palming her with two handfuls as he moves his mouth from her shoulder to her neck.
She can feel his desperation and his rage filled testosterone radiating from the heat of his breath to the muscle of his thigh up against her core.
As furious as she is, she is also extremely turned on.
He is squeezing her so hard and pulling her up on him with rough eager hands she can't move. She falls into him and wraps her arms around his neck while he pulls her up and back into the wall behind her.
Her eyes are wide when her head makes contact with the wall and be pins her against it. He is sucking at her neck and working his hands in between them to open her belt and pull down as much of her pants as he can.
"You want this?" He spits out at her, pushing his hips forward so she can feel what's in store for her.
She nods wordlessly and her eyes roll back as his thick arousal gets buried in between her thighs.
She claws at his back and pulls his shirt up over his head.
He pushes her hands away and holds them over her head with one hand. The other runs down her body and lands on her breast squeezing it firmly. It's then with her arms restrained that he finally kisses her for the first time ever.
His lips hard and eager with his tongue making contact with hers immediately. It's so intimate when he's looking into her eyes. So filled with anger, with love and so much that comes with having so many things left unsaid. Above all he looks turned on and so out of control.
"Want to help, huh? You want to help..." he puts his hands down her pants and cups her through her underwear and starts to laugh.
This is so fucked up.
"Knew it..." he smirks as his finger tips are immediately met with wetness.
He doesn't even have the decency to pull her underwear off. She is still almost fully dressed. He pushes the black panties off to the side before spitting on his hand and rubbing his swollen knob with it before shoving it inside her.
Her head rolls back against the wall and her eyes will not dare open. She can't. It's too much what this all means. She's giving up the finals part of herself he left untouched by him. Inside of her. Inside of her body. He needs the release she has never granted him. She lets him keep thrusting up high and hard into her, she doesn't even think she will cum. She wants his hand on her throat, her hair pulled back to just make this what it needs to be, what they are pretending it's not which is a hard fuck. His hips are moving so hard and fast and it feels so amazing but it also feels so overwhelming and not quite enough. There is so much in between them left unsaid but this, this is him pounding into her until any doubts of finishing are thrown out the window now that he is sucking on her neck and trying to squeeze her breasts through her clothing.
She lets him do whatever he wants to her. His pleading and gentle whimpering when he finishes is what she holds deep inside of her later that evening after she showers him off of her, between her legs and inside her he is still there no matter how warm the water runs against her body and how many time's she runs her soapy hands between her legs.
It's him whimpering and breathing her name into her hair that does it for her when she finally touches herself to go to sleep and attempt to turn off her mind. It's the feeling of him dripping out of her body and having to throw her panties out the minute she gets home.
It's Elliot so desperate for warm and relief and how he kissed her neck before muttering I love you into her ear as he grunted away emptying himself inside of her.
It's so sad and so fucked up but it feels so good when she remembers it this way. That moment before he reached his climax and the softness of his lips and how desperately his hips were moving to seek out her warmth. A comfort only she could provide. Another secret between them and just one more instance where she can't mutter those three words back to him but feels it so, so deeply.