Chapter 6

Olivia had demanded that he not be in the apartment for the duration of this particular house call and he wasn't going to even try to put up a fight at this point. The fight worth having had already been the unlikely team of himself and ADA Rafael Barba arguing that this should be done at home, and not at 1 Hogan Place as Olivia had been insisting was fine until letting them win. Choosing instead to invoke her right to sulk.

That of course was all after Brian dared to question if it was even necessary that she be involved in trial prep at this point. They all knew William Lewis would be pulling out everything in his bag of tricks. He'd be dragging out appeals, special considerations, and goddamn jury selection as long as humanly possible before they even got to a trial. A frown from Olivia and a firm "Absolutely" through the speakerphone shut him down. Barba claiming he needed her to be going through the details while it was "still fresh in her mind."

Brian barely held back his contempt at this. The assumption that allowing Olivia an extra month before having to sit and stoically recall the events would somehow affect her ability to remember details was ridiculous. From where he was sitting, she was still re-living too much of it on a near-daily basis.

"I'm fine. I'm doing this." Was Olivia's response to his suggestion that it wasn't too late to cancel on Barba. He would've taken her word for it, if those words weren't being said between the final few dry heaves as she knelt in front of the toilet bowl, him perched behind her on the edge of the bath and moving slow circles over her shoulder blades.

"Thanks for at least trying with breakfast," he offered with absolute sincerity.

"It went well, yeah?" She laughed dryly and ripped some paper from the roll, wiping her mouth before discarding it in the bowl and leaning back to sit on her heels, shifting her body slightly so she didn't have her back to him anymore. That still seemed to be a big deal.

Gradually she was coping better with physical affection again. Hand holding on walks through the city streets was now allowed - when she initiated it. They could relax on the couch with his arms wrapped around her - still strictly no spooning in bed. The back touching was a big step, but never without his intent being verbalized and agreed to before he even lifted a hand. It was all progress and he never wanted to pressure her, but he couldn't wait for the day where an accidental touch of her hair didn't get him screamed at.

Her quick cheek kisses had slowly shifted closer to the corner of his mouth over the past few weeks, and even at that point, they were sometimes the highlight of his day. One particularly good morning she smiled at him in the kitchen before coffee-flavored lips pressed softly against his. She lingered to suck at his bottom lip gently before pulling away and wordlessly handing his mug of coffee over. It was a moment that made him believe that against all these fucked up odds they could be okay. No, they would be okay.

The door buzzed and Olivia visibly tensed, Brian stilled his hand on her back. "Hey, I'll get it. You just come out whenever you're ready." He stood and moved to leave the bathroom, pausing to wrap his hands around the jamb and look back at her.

The door buzzed again. He didn't move from the doorway and she was still sitting on the floor, doing one of those calm breathing things she'd explained to him one night. Please tell me to tell him to fuck off, he tried to communicate telepathically until she looked back up at him. She huffed in annoyance and started to pull herself up, her tone firm. "Jesus Brian. Just let him in."

The door buzzed again. He matched her tone, watching her grab her toothbrush and the paste. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone." She made a point of ignoring him and started brushing her teeth, forcing him to finally go and let Barba in.

Brian opened the door and didn't even bother to greet Barba. "Look, I'll be no more than ten minutes away. If she's not coping you need to tell me." Barba also didn't bother with pleasantries. Swanning in with purpose, full suit on, and placing his briefcase and a takeaway coffee cup on the dining table. He busied himself with opening the briefcase and pulling out files before responding. "I'm not here to upset Olivia. I'm here to make sure we have the best chance of locking this psychopath away for life. We all want the same thing, right?" He looked up from the table with his last remark and raised an eyebrow.

Brian decided again to pick his battles and sighed in frustration, gathering his phone and keys up to leave as he called out through the apartment. "I won't be far away!" He got no response but he also wasn't really expecting one. He tried a final, gentler appeal to Barba, "I'm serious, man. She's pushing herself to do this. If she says she's done or even looks like she's done, this thing," he gestured to the table "is done." He got a softer look from the ADA in response.

"I'm not here to upset her," Barba reiterated in a hushed tone, "but if that happens, I am a friend first. I know you and I will never be the best of friends but you need to stop seeing me as the enemy here." Brian didn't respond but glanced past Barba's shoulder to see Olivia approaching. She gave him a confused look, clearly not expecting him to still be standing there. He held a hand up before she could question his continued presence.

"I'm leaving now. I'll be back in two hours unless you say otherwise." He immediately felt the energy in the room shift as the others looked at each other for the first time in almost two months. Suddenly looking three inches shorter, Barba moved back to shuffling papers and avoided eye contact with Olivia as she headed to sit in the dining chair opposite where Barba stood. Her arms were wrapped around her middle and she had an expression on her face that showed she was trying to steel herself. It all gave Brian a sick feeling and he wanted to put his foot down, kick the damn lawyer out, and just hold her until bad thoughts left them both. He picked his battles one more time and walked out the door instead.

He walked an anxious lap of his block then ventured down to the local park, watching a couple of 3-on-3 pickup games on the court. He called his mother to catch up. Lying far too convincingly about how great everything was going and promising to visit - yes, with Olivia - soon. He did two anxious laps of the park. With an hour killed he headed for the cafe on the corner of his block to settle in for a while. The venue of choice really only because it was two minutes from home and a few more hours before the local bar opened for the day. Apparently coffee was more in demand than tequila at 11am on a Thursday in his neighborhood.

Twenty minutes after sitting in the cafe his phone vibrated on the table and his eyes were drawn from the newspaper he'd been staring at. A message from Barba.

She smashed a glass. Cut her hand trying to clean it up and won't let me help.

He picked his phone up to respond then watched the typing bubble appear, disappear, and reappear until a second message popped up.

I think you should come back. Fair warning, she disagrees.

Brian typed out and sent a response confirming he'd be back in a few minutes. He quickly added on a thank you as he was heading out onto the street to head home. While furious that this all seemed to have gone as well as he feared, he was thankful Barba realized he was out of his depth right now.

As he re-entered the apartment he heard them before he saw them, Barba asking Olivia what she needed and Olivia telling him she needed him to leave her alone. This was clearly not the first of these exchanges. He headed towards the kitchen to find Olivia sitting on the floor in the far corner against the cupboards and Barba crouched a few feet away from her. There were shards of broken glass scattered across the floor and a larger piece clutched in her red-tinged right hand. Not a case of slippery fingers, then he surmised to himself. His shoe crunching on broken glass made Olivia's head snap up, her pupils dilated and staring straight through him.

"Hey, Olivia? You're safe. It's just me and Bar- Rafael here." Crouching down next to Barba he motioned for the other man to leave the kitchen. Barba looked utterly helpless as he moved to leave and Brian would've laughed if he wasn't painfully aware that it was the exact look plastered on his own face the first few times a flashback took a turn for the absolute worst.

"Liv? Can you let go of the glass?" He asked trying to keep his voice neutral despite the seething anger still bubbling within him. She looked down at her hand and dropped the broken shard, looking as if she had only now realized she was holding it. "Bri, there's blood."

"There sure is. We'll fix it up. I just need you to stand up for me, okay?" He stood and offered his hand for her uninjured hand to grab. As Olivia was standing he glanced across the breakfast bar to see Barba pacing between the couch and the dining table. He'd deal with him later.

They wordlessly cleaned her hand up over the sink and she started to relax. The initial amount of blood had definitely made it look much worse than it actually was and her biggest issue would probably be a few days of minor pain anytime she tries to make a fist.

"Want to tell me what it was?" He whispered as he patted her hand dry. She smiled at him sadly and shook her head. He kept his voice low, "Want me to tell Barba to get the fuck out?" Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Don't be an ass. I guess I owe him an apology?" They both looked over to where Barba had finally sat himself down in a chair again and was staring at his phone. "My guess is he owes you one," Brain mumbled.

Brian took on glass clean up duties to leave the other two to talk on the couch. He kept one ear finely tuned for even a hint of Olivia sounding upset. He had to admit she sounded a lot more together than Barba at this point, but she was pretty much in peak condition when it came to building her protective walls back up quickly after total decimation. They both volleyed apologies back and forth. It had been too soon they admitted. Brian bit his tongue, placed herbal teas in front of them on the coffee table, and retreated to the bedroom. It was all so disgustingly polite, dancing around anything that actually mattered. It made Brian want to smash a glass of his own.