A/N: This is it! The end. The final chapter. Thank you all so much for reading. Your kind words and feedback have meant so much to me. It's been a joy writing this fic.

Over the past few days, Olivia has ridden the rollercoaster of anxiety for all it's worth. Now? She's ready to get off the ride; ready to stand on solid ground again. It's hurtful, still, that Elliot learned about the assault without her consent. She wonders if she'll always feel a sting from knowing that, but is hopeful she can move on. He explained his reasoning, for better or worse. It doesn't excuse his actions, but it at least makes some sense.

"You playing Candy Crush, Stabler?" She reemerges from her bedroom.

"Something like that." He puts his phone back in his pocket, glancing at her. "You look better."

"I look like shit." She counters, pouring herself a glass of water. "But thank you."

Elliot smirks. In truth, neither one of them are exactly looking their best.

"Can we talk about something else." It's not so much a question, but Olivia poses it that way.

"By all means." He's happy to oblige; drained from their earlier conversation.

"So," she settles next to him.

"Your place looks good." It's the only safe topic he can think of.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You decorate it yourself?"

"Small talk not your strong suit?" She teases.

"That it's not." He agrees, looking at her with a small smile.

"But yes, I did."

"Looks good." He clasps and unclasps his hands a few times, realizing this conversation is going nowhere. "Rollins doesn't like me." He states.

"Since when do you care if someone likes you." She neither agrees nor disagrees.

"I don't, but she's your friend, so." Elliot shrugs.

"I mean, she's not president of your fan club if that's what you're asking." Olivia smirks, keeping her tone light. "But you haven't really given her much reason to like you."

"Fair point." He nods, half-smiling. "She cares about you."

"Yeah, well. We've been through a lot." She reasons, taking note of his smug expression. "What, you jealous I have friends other than you?"

"Oh, so we're friends?"

"Elliot, what is this." She huffs, clearly agitated.

"What?" He didn't expect her frustrated reaction and isn't sure what to make of it.

"This," she gestures vaguely, as if trying to explain what she means with only her body language. "Constant need for reassurance."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He's defensive, but knows she's right.

"It's not like you."

"Yeah, well. I'm not really like me lately, as you keep pointing out."

"I'm not trying to pick a fight." She sighs. "I'm really not. I'm just—I'm worried."

"I know." He closes his eyes, leaning back. "Wish you'd stop doing that."

"I will when you stop doing things that worry me." She nudges him playfully.

"Look, things with my kids are…tense. You know that better than anyone." Better than me, he muses. "I'm working on it, but it's been tough, Liv. It's—" he rubs his eyes, searching for words. "It's really fucking tough. Sometimes I feel like you and my job are all I've got left." He confesses. "Scares the hell outta me."

"Elliot," She exhales. "I understand that, and I'm trying to empathize with you." She's using a tone typically reserved for the interrogation room. "But what you just said? That's how I felt ten years ago. You and the job were all I had back then." And you left. She doesn't need to say it aloud. "And I know this is different—with Kathy—I know it is. And I—El, I am so sorry for what happened. She was my friend. I love your whole family."

"I know, Liv." His temper, somehow, remains at bay.

"But I'd be lying if I said there wasn't…" she hesitates. "The tiniest part of me that feels like—like maybe you deserve to worry about us; about where we stand." She hangs her head. "Like I did."

Elliot balls his fists, but doesn't speak. He's hurt, but understands.

"El, my loyalty to you—to us—it's unwavering. I'm right here." She emphasizes. "And yes, we're friends. Would I have," she motions toward the spot where they stood holding each other just minutes earlier. "If we weren't friends?" She scratches her forehead, taking a moment. "But this push-pull we have going on? It ends now."

"Push-pull, how." He squints.

"You really need me to spell it out for you?"

"Clearly I do, Liv, or I wouldn't have asked." The kind, gentle Elliot Stabler of their earlier conversation is quickly disappearing.

"Fine. You tell me to back off, but call in the middle of the night." She explains. "You tell me—" Olivia stops, unsure if she's ready to bridge the subject. "—you love me, then walk away."

"I meant that." He replies, his voice steady and strong.

"Come on." Her frustration grows.

"No. Think whatever you want about me, about my…" he taps his head. "Think whatever the fuck you want. But I meant that."

"Okay." She submits. "Then tell me this: in what way?"

"What do you—"

"In what way, Elliot." In what way do you love me? She can't bring herself to say the words. "I deserve to know."

"Really putting me on the spot here, Liv." He laughs, though there is nothing humorous in his tone. "You're—you're my family." Her shoulders fall and he wonders if it's disappointment or relief.

"Got it." She says, her voice even.

"Olivia." He leans toward her, trying to catch her gaze. "Maybe —maybe it's more than that. What I feel for you, it runs deeper than my brain can process right now. But I—I'm too fucked up to…I can't. I want to." He clarifies, a glimmer of arousal behind his eyes. "But I can't. Not to you." He almost reaches for her, but keeps his hands tightly in his lap. "You mean too damn much to me."

"No, I—" she blinks rapidly, shaking her head. "El, I get it. I agree. Kathy? It's still…you need to grieve." Olivia realizes her words are making little sense, but she's flustered. "You need to work on your relationship with your kids. Not on…" us. "You need to heal those first."

"Yeah, I know." He's a bit surprised by how rattled she is. "I'm working on it. Maybe I need to talk to someone."

"Seriously?" Olivia's eyes widen.

"I said maybe. Don't get all excited." He shifts to face her. "I could also start journaling or some shit." Elliot smiles, referencing their earlier conversation.

"Hey, don't knock it til' you try it." She teases, but quickly sobers. "Really though, I'm proud of you for even considering it."

"Thanks." He replies sheepishly, face reddening. "I want to make this work, Liv." He leaves this open-ended. "I want to get to know Noah. In a meaningful way, like you with my kids."

"I want that too." She nods, but still isn't ready for him to spend time with her son. Is she overprotective? Possibly. But when it comes to Noah she isn't willing to take chances.

"And then," his eyes search the room. "Us. Maybe, we can…revisit that."

"Yeah." She agrees. "Yeah, El. That sounds good."

"But I meant it. Still mean it." He repeats. "I love you."

She feels her heartbeat quicken and hopes he doesn't notice her sharp intake of breath.

"Well." She exhales. "I'm still mad at you." She teases, though there's still some truth to her words. "So, I can't…" say it back. "Not yet."

"Yet?" He cocks an eyebrow, hopeful.

"Don't push it." She rolls her eyes. "But yes. Yet."

"Hey," he holds up his hands. "I'll take it." He smiles. "I'll definitely take it."

-FIN-

Thank you, thank you again, for reading.