TW: Brief mentions of suicidal ideation.
This chapter was very difficult for me to write as I have personal experience with these themes, so I hope it comes across well.
Shoutout to my dear Marissa, who listens to me whine when the words won't cooperate.
Grey clouds and unseasonably warm drops of rain hang over the city today and it only amplifies Olivia's dark mood as she nurses a fresh cup of coffee in a little corner booth tucked away from the hum of the rest of the shop's patrons.
She sighs. She has no idea what the fuck she's doing here in the middle of a weekday afternoon when she really should be at the precinct.
Well, she knows what she's doing here. What she's struggling to grasp is why she agreed to meet Kathy Stabler in the first place and at the first coffee shop that popped up equidistant between the Stabler house and the precinct in a Google search.
When the surprise of hearing her voice wore off, Olivia was primed and ready to say no when she'd gotten Kathy's call yesterday. She hasn't spoken to Elliot's ex-wife alone in over a decade and while they've always been cordial — and friendly oftentimes, depending on the occasion — she doesn't have any desire to revisit all of that right now.
Particularly because it's impossible for her to separate the rest of the Stabler clan from its patriarch and she would do pretty much anything not to be reminded of him right now.
Not that it would make much of a difference, truly. It was about a week ago that she stormed out of his building in tears and their conversation is all she's thought about since, operating on a loop in her brain like a cassette tape she wishes would just wear out already.
She, maybe naively, hadn't expected it to be as triggering as it was, but —
The nightmares she used to have after she was abducted have come back full throttle, only with one fucked-up difference that left her heart twisting and her fingers curling into her damp sheets as she startled awake. Disoriented and cleaved in half, it was all she could to shove her face into her pillow to muffle her cries so she didn't wake her son again.
In addition to the starring role of William Lewis, Elliot had begun frequenting the dreams, too. Night after night, she relived that terrible afternoon in the beach house. Elliot never joined in, but the dream's reality had been more horrific — he'd watch from a spot in the corner, completely disinterested in the scene before him, unmoved by her pain. No shadow, no flicker. Just -
Nothing.
After four consecutive nights of horror films in her head, she swallowed her pride and paid a visit to Dr. Lindstrom. The anxiety coupled with her grief still prevents her from sleeping all the way through the night, but the nightmares have stopped. For now.
Exhausted and completely spent, the "I'm sorry, Kathy, but between my son and work, it's hard for me to make time for anything else" was waiting on her tongue — a line she's always ready to brandish on the rare occasion that a man asks her out — but something about the tone in the other woman's voice, the insistence... it caught her off guard.
And then when she'd heard Eli over the line, interrupting to ask his mom a question, it was game over. The sound of the boy's voice startled her, a lump forming in her throat when she was hit with the fact that she had no idea what he sounded like, what he looked like, what kind of person he was growing up to be.
She'd always felt a special connection with the youngest Stabler and it's one of the things that makes her ache most about Elliot's absence all these years. She even used to display a photo that Elliot had snapped in the hospital on that fateful day — Eli cradled preciously in her arms and an exhausted grin on her face that she couldn't suppress even if she wanted — but like everything else in her life that reminded her of Elliot, she'd had to put it away because it was too painful.
The unpredictability of the situation before her leaves her stomach in knots, to the point where even though it's 2 o'clock, she hasn't managed to eat a damn thing all day. Her only solace is the knowledge that there's not an emergency. Kathy, the kids, and Elliot are all fine — she'd made sure to clarify that first.
It crossed her mind that maybe Kathy's agenda is to advocate on Elliot's behalf, but that seems...doubtful, no matter how good of terms they're on now. Though it's not like Olivia has any insight into their lives to know if they even talk outside of co-parenting Eli.
It only increases her ever-mounting frustration. How is it that he can know seemingly every goddamn thing about her for the last 9 years and the only thing she knows about his life during that time is that his marriage ended and he moved to Oklahoma to work with the FBI? Elliot was the one who walked away and yet he still has the upper hand, still holds all the answers, all the pieces.
Even thousands of miles away, she'd felt completely robbed of her dignity.
Olivia spots Kathy walking through the door before the other woman notices her, grateful that she chose a table hidden from plain view where she can observe and hide for a minute. The blonde is still stunning, seems lighter than ever, unmarred by grief and pain (or maybe Olivia is just projecting) as she closes her umbrella and shakes the rain from her coat. Unlike Olivia, the dismal weather doesn't seem to reflect one ounce of Kathy Stabler today.
Stabler. Huh.
Is that even her name anymore?
Olivia presses her fingers to the dull stress headache that's beginning to form, likely only worsened by the fact that she's had nothing of substance to eat today.
She waits until Kathy has completed her order at the counter before she makes herself known, but it isn't until she stands to greet her that she realizes how stupid and awkward and completely ridiculous she feels doing that, and fuck, it's too late to take it back and sit down — Kathy has already seen her, her blue eyes kind and a small smile stretched across her lips.
She's dressed in a perfectly-pressed white oxford shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans and the contrast between it and Olivia's drab black outfit makes her want to laugh inappropriately before flinging herself off the nearest building.
Because, of course — even though it's been more than a decade, it just tracks that they would still be such polar opposites in so many ways. The angelic wife in white and the temptress partner in black that the entire department assumed was schtupping the husband.
"It's good to see you, Olivia," Kathy greets her warmly, embracing her in a half-hug that takes Olivia aback before she returns it and parrots the sentiment.
"Thanks for meeting me," Kathy says graciously. "I'm sure it wasn't easy for you to get away."
Olivia smiles politely, sliding her hands around her coffee mug to avoid fidgeting. "A little bit easier now as Captain." It's meant to be reassuring but also maybe just a little bit of preening.
"I think Elliot did mention that to me not too long ago," Kathy replies. "Congratulations."
"Thank you."
The silence hangs in the air between them until the barista drops off Kathy's order, inadvertently dispelling the awkward bubble.
Olivia clears her throat. "How's Eli?"
"A handful," Kathy laughs, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "He's the only one left in the house now, so he's got a little bit of only child syndrome."
"I, uh, can relate," Olivia says sympathetically. She loves her son more than anything in the world, but God, he can be such a handful — especially at the end of a long day when she just wants to curl up with him and have a quiet night and he's still bustling with energy.
Nights like those she wished especially that she'd had another child that he could get some of that energy out with, but she knows there's no way she could handle another child on her own. Most days she barely feels like she can keep up and take care of the one she has.
Kathy cocks her head. "How old is your son now? Noah, right?"
Olivia's heart clenches in her chest at the innocuous question. She's always imagined this small cocoon around her son, her heart, her precinct family — not wrapped away from the entire world, just...
Shuttered away from the Stabler family.
After Elliot had walked away, it felt like the only way to survive. But ever since his return, pieces of it started crumbling before her eyes.
"Olivia, I'm sorry," Kathy amends hastily, reading the tension in Olivia's face.
Olivia shakes her head dismissively. "No, it's fine." It's not — it's the opposite — but she doesn't want to make it more awkward by getting into it with Elliot's ex-wife.
"Noah's good. He, um, he loves to dance," Olivia starts with a smile, rubbing a thumb across her forehead. "He's about 6 now, but going on 18," she jokes. "Tall for his age, too."
"He sounds a lot like Eli, except he's 12 going on 21 and a little bit too much like his father." Kathy rolls her eyes in amusement, taking a sip of her coffee. "But in all the best ways, I think."
It's quiet again then and the dragging out of the small talk makes Olivia antsy. She could keep meandering, ask about Kathy's job or the rest of the kids, the weather, but —
She can't. She doesn't possess the ability to sit and chat and pretend like the last 9 years haven't happened. And maybe in a different life, or in a different time, she would've sacrificed that boundary and comfort to keep the peace and seem accommodating, but that time has long passed now.
She's pretty sure that time ended the moment she locked herself into an interrogation room to grieve the abrupt departure of her best friend who seemingly abandoned her and never looked back.
Olivia's been rebuilding herself and her life for the last 9 years all on her own without Elliot and now, now he and his family are back to fuck with what she'd only had to fix because of him in the first place.
She leans back, her hands falling into her lap as she curls her fingers into her palms in frustration. "Why did you call me, Kathy? It's been - "
"Almost a decade, I know." Kathy sighs. Her hand fiddles with a gold band on her left ring finger that flickers under the light. Her eyes dip to catch Olivia's gaze on it and she smiles. "I got remarried, you know? About 5 years ago."
"Congratulations," Olivia replies quietly. She likes Kathy, has never wished her anything but the best, and she's genuinely glad the other woman seems happy after her marriage to Elliot ended.
"I will always care about Elliot, Olivia. That hasn't changed and it won't ever change."
"Okay," Olivia says slowly, frowning. "I don't understand."
"Elliot's made some really terrible decisions in the years that we were married," Kathy admits. "But nothing quite as stupid as the choice he made to leave New York and stop communicating with you."
Olivia flinches in surprise, but remains silent.
"Elliot has always been a fighter, and a stubborn one at that. I'm sure you would agree," Kathy says dryly, throwing Olivia a pointed look. "Which is why for the longest time it never really made sense to me that he would just give up so easily. Listening to Fin?" She scoffs.
"Sometimes I wonder..." Kathy trails off, biting her lip. "Sometimes I wonder if he used Fin as an excuse to leave because he didn't feel good enough."
The knowledge in Kathy's eyes, the implication of what she's clearly not spelling out, sends Olivia's head spinning.
"Kathy, I - "
"I'm not talking about you, Olivia. I — well, I'm not just talking about you." She shakes her head. "Our marriage ended and you know, it wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone's fault, but I know he felt like he needed to shoulder that responsibility because of all the things that happened between us over the years."
Kathy licks her lips, turning her head to look out the window. "He was never the same after he shot that girl. He stopped sleeping." She swallows hard. "I woke up in the middle of the night once to find him sitting in a chair in the living room with his gun sitting next to him."
A pained noise escapes Olivia. "What?" she chokes out.
Kathy turns back to her, a haunted look in her eyes.. "It was empty. I don't think he - " Her voice cracks. "But it scared me, it really scared me, and I begged him to get help."
"And then you split up," Olivia adds, in a daze. Fuck, she's glad she hasn't eaten today because there's no way in hell she'd be able to keep anything down right now.
Kathy nods. "Elliot was better after that and I think the shrink really helped him see what it was that he really wanted." She sighs. "But I also think that knowledge terrified him and he would've used any excuse not to go after you."
Olivia's mouth goes dry as her stomach drops three floors. "You mean 'it.'"
Kathy's mouth twitches as she cocks her head. "No, I don't."
Olivia shakes her head fiercely, holding up a hand. Absolutely not. She can't listen to this. She refuses — "Kathy, please stop. Just, please."
But Kathy continues as if she hasn't heard her and if Olivia were a stronger person, she'd get up and walk right out of the coffee shop and never look back.
But she's not. Goddamit, she's not.
And what kills her even more is that she's thought out scenarios like this one dozens and dozens of times over the years — Elliot crawling back, apologies on his lips and regrets spilling out of his mouth. Every time, Dream!Olivia didn't budge a damn inch, not after years of layering on suit of armor after suit of armor.
And now? Now she's faced with some form of the reality she'd always pictured — though she never expected to be having it with his ex-wife — and all the layers have rusted and fallen away.
Here she sits, crumbled.
"I can only imagine what it must've been like for you. How painful it must've been," Kathy says sincerely. "I'm not negating that. But there are things you should know. Things that I know Elliot would never tell you because he's too proud and he doesn't want to seem weak or like he's making excuses." She pauses. "And whether or not they change the way you feel, I think they're important."
"Fine," Olivia croaks, giving in. She's already halfway down the rabbit hole in freefall. At this point, she might as well keep tumbling.
"When Elliot left New York, he stopped seeing a shrink. And he seemed okay, at first, considering the circumstances. Maybe a little homesick. Questioning his decision to leave. I knew he'd ultimately regret moving away, but he needed to see that in his own time." Kathy slowly traces the rim of her mug, carefully gathering her words. "But things changed. He stopped calling the kids and when I was able to get ahold of him, he sounded distant. Despondent."
"He was depressed," Olivia surmises.
"Yeah," Kathy nods. "I asked him to go back to therapy, but he told me he was fine, that he just needed more time to adjust. I didn't believe him, but I let it go."
The despair written in the lines on Kathy's face and the whites of her knuckles makes the hairs on the back of Olivia's neck stand up. But - Elliot's fine. She just saw him, for God's sake. Five days ago. "What is it, Kathy?"
"I hadn't heard from him in months. The kids hadn't either. And then I'm getting a phone call from him in the middle of the night and he's telling me that he's checking himself into a hospital because - " She breaks off, her eyes thick with tears. She opens her mouth to start again, but the emotion clogs her throat.
"Kathy, please."
"Because he can't stop thinking about eating his gun."
Olivia clamps a hand over her mouth, waves of nausea rippling through her empty stomach. Fuck, why did she ask? And why the fuck did she show up here today?
"When?" Olivia's voice breaks, desperation pouring out of her. It's too late to rewind the tape now, to go back to when she was oblivious and angry. Now it's all out there in front of her and it's all she can see.
All she can see is him.
"When did this happen?" she asks again.
"Olivia -"
"When, Kathy?" The sound of her own voice is high and far away to her ears, shrill with impatience and she rapidly feels like she's losing her grip on reality.
"The end of May, in 2013."
That was —
"Oh God," Olivia croaks.
One move. Lights out.
"I think he didn't know how to live with himself after that happened to you. He just…" Kathy's voice falls away, hopelessly lost to Olivia's senses.
The tension in her head is throbbing now and it matches the loud drum of her anxious heart as she slides gracelessly out of the booth. Her knees buckle and god, walking is a mistake, such a fucking mistake, but she can't breathe and she just needs to get somewhere, anywhere away from this.
Her clammy hands fumble at the side of the table to steady herself and that's all for naught because then she's stumbling away, narrowly avoiding a collision with a table full of college students. Their mocking laughter blares sharply in her ears and she winces, shaky hands shoving at the nearest door.
Somewhere, anywhere away from this.
Olivia staggers in, falling against the door as it shuts behind her. Her spotted vision falls upon a sink and a toilet and a brief moment of relief courses through her trembling body. A single-use bathroom.
The reality — the weight of today, the last few weeks, the last 9 fucking years — washes over her and all she can do is give in.
Elliot.
She releases a gut-wrenching sob and sinks slowly to the floor, her heels scraping roughly against linoleum as her feet slide out from under her.
He's fine he's fine he's fine he's fine he's fine he's fine he's fine he's fine. Damn it, Olivia, he's fine.
But what if he isn't?
She sucks down a panicky breath and flounders through the pockets of her blazer for her phone. She stares down at the screen for a minute, tears swimming her vision. She just needs to hear the sound of his voice. That's it.
If she can just hear the sound of his voice, she'll be okay.
Before she can change her mind, she's thumbing in his phone number. She deleted his contact ages ago, but she knows the information is seared in her brain for fucking life.
She lifts her cell to her ear, eyes slam closed, her breaths thready as she counts the number of rings.
One. Two. Three —
The line picks up and her heart leaps to her throat. "Olivia?"
She whimpers in relief, head thumping back against the door before she disconnects the call and lets the line go dead.
Thank you for hanging in with me.
Love to hear from you — (and if you love flailing over EO as much as I do, hit me up on Twitter oliviajrowe)
Liv