Notes: Time to take a breath and push this along. This one is a little lighter and encompassing the rest of Olivia's and Elliot's week.
Amy, again, special thanks to you. I love you.
Trigger Warning for:
PTSD
Mention of rape
It's baffling that they are perfectly in sync even in the bathroom, going after their morning routine, and they don't have all that much practice. He shaves, and she's behind him brushing her teeth. He brushes his teeth, as she's prepping her face before putting on foundation. He starts the coffee, returns when she is almost done. Olivia seizes the eyeliner from the mirror cabinet and he instantly takes a step back, knowing she needs to be front and center, leaning in to brace her elbow against the medicine cabinet as she's drawing one perfect, thin line. Right eye, then the left. A touch of blush to the cheeks, her favorite go to lipstick, and she's done.
Looking at him in the mirror, she can see the concern that's etched on his face, and it has been there since she told him that she's going back to work the moment his alarm went off.
"Elliot," she chides him with gentleness, because she knows he means well, he's worried. She can't say she'd be too happy with him if roles were reversed.
"Are you sure about this?" he asks, and it sounds like he's almost wincing.
She couldn't be more sure, though. She had needed the three days, she won't argue with that, but yesterday, with Elliot back at work and Noah in school she'd about gone berserk. It's not even that she doesn't have plenty to do, just that she isn't in the mood to do any of it. All of Tuesday she had spent in bed, napping on and off with Elliot by her side. Yesterday, with plenty of alone time, she had dug up the journal and jotted down the nightmares in as much factual detail as she remembered, remembering Lindstrom's advice not to make the recounting dependent on her emotions. Last night she'd come to the conclusion that more therapy is inevitable, so besides work her plan for today is to pick up the phone and call Lindstrom's office to make an appointment, hoping he'll be able to see her soonish.
This she has to do. She's sure. She's ready. She needs to work. Slowly Olivia pivots and nods."I'm sure. I can't just sit here all day, El. Not again. I'm doing much better."
"You still get the nightmares," he points out, worriedly.
"Yeah, I do, and I will for a while. But it's better and I'm not screaming bloody murder, so I guess that's progress," she smiles, trying to make light of it, but it is a lot better. She gets them, but jerks awake, and while it takes her a good while to fall back asleep, it only takes a squeeze of Elliot's hand, or scooting a little closer to him for her to feel safe. By now she's got a sense of control over it. "Plus, I've done this before," she assures. "I know the pattern, I'd say it's a safe bet that I'll have them less and less frequent in the coming weeks."
"And you're in the right headspace to go?" It's the second time this morning that he asks this, and while it's slightly annoying she loves him for it. So, she's being blatantly honest.
"I'm not great, but I'm okay."
"And you slept."
"I did. And well at that."
Elliot expels a heavy breath, as if bracing himself for what he's about to say. "All right."
"Good," she smiles, and reaches for her perfume.
"I trust you," he tells her, and she thinks he says it for his benefit instead of hers.
"Good to know," she winks, putting her favorite scent on, simultaneously bathing the room in sweet osmanthus. Then she moves in and carefully attaches her lips to his, just barely, so they won't be a perfect lipstick copy of her own on his mouth. "I'll grab some coffee. Love you," she smiles and sashays away from him, knowing she's got fifteen minutes max to load up on caffeine and get Noah's lunchbox ready, all while telling him about twenty times to go brush his teeth, or else.
Unfortunately Elliot is no less at ease then earlier when they part ways in front of her building, but he gives it his best effort and doesn't voice his concern again. They kiss goodbye until tomorrow, because tonight he'll stay at his own place with Eli.
After dropping Noah off at school she heads to the 1-6, her arrival almost getting lost in the usual morning buzz. Fin notices of course, greeting her casually, and she smiles at him gratefully around a quick 'Morning, Fin', and: "Can you bring me up to speed?"
She's filled in within twenty, realizing for the first time how efficient they've become at this since she first started out as commanding officer of SVU. When Fin leaves, she sees Amanda arrive and thinks how she needs to thank her about how she handled the photo situation.
She calls Lindstrom at 9:45 sharp, momentarily rendered speechless when he picks up on the first ring. She finds her footing when he asks 'Hello?' after the initial introduction of whose office this is, cutting to the chase. From his voice alone she can tell he's surprised to find who's on the line, and her discomfort over how she's left things the last time she saw him grows rapidly. However, Lindstrom fits her in at 12:30. She's fully aware he doesn't see patients between twelve and two, remembering it's not the first time the man has made exceptions for her. She gladly accepts the appointment, of course, thinking it's better than waiting a few days, possibly weeks until he can make time to see her during office hours.
For a little while Olivia's a lot more distracted than she'd like to admit, but once a call comes in, a young woman calling to report she was raped by a bartender the night before, she is back in her usual professional mode. She sends Kat and Fin to talk to the vic, tells Amanda to stay on top of their current cases.
Before she knows it it's pushing noon, and she's headed to therapy. Again. Who would have thought.
She's nervous upon entering the foyer, blowing out a breath she'd been unaware of holding. It's been three, four years since she last saw Lindstrom for counseling, when the prospect of seeing Tucker for the first time post-breakup gave her anxiety for days. Shortly after their therapist-patient relationship had fractured after she took work-related things too personally.
Now it's time to bite the bullet, because she can't dissect her problems on her own, she tried, and it's not working. She needs therapy, she has faith in therapy, and Lindstrom knows her entire history. She'd opened up to him about everything from her childhood trauma, to Lewis, her fears of abandonment, her trust issues, every relationship she's ever had. It'd take a year to get someone else to understand her, and how the most recent events affect her life, her relationship.
She rocks from foot to foot, trying to gather the confidence to announce she's here. A few more conscious breaths and she knocks, hearing muffled footsteps approaching from inside the office. She takes one step back before the door swings open, tucking her long bangs behind her ear.
"Olivia, come in," Lindstrom gestures towards the chair she sat in countless times. Nothing at all seems to have changed, and neither has he. Smiling hesitantly, Olivia steps across the threshold and inside the room that knows more about her life than any person that's in it, Elliot included. Every confession she's ever made lives between these walls.
"Dr. Lindstrom," she regards him kindly. "Thank you so much for making time to see me, and on such short notice."
"If I have learned one thing, it's that when you need counseling, it's urgent," Lindstrom responds openly, offering a docile smile. "Why don't you take a seat."
She takes a few steps towards the chair, closing her eyes briefly, then points her lips and faces him. "Let me start by saying that I want to apologize for…," she draws a breath, shaking her head in small, almost imperceptible movements. "...for how I left things when we last saw each other. I let things get personal. I didn't handle that well."
"I appreciate it, but don't worry about it, Olivia."
"Okay," she breathes, relieved this part is over with. She puts her purse on the floor and sits, knowing she won't get comfortable today, probably not for a few sessions.
"Let's talk about why you're here, Olivia."
And just like that the door is open. Tilting her head up, she prepares herself. She wonders where to start but figures she might as well jump right in. She inhales and exhales consciously, repeats it a few times until she feels anchored and ready.
"Back at my old apartment, within the first two days Lewis, he…," she falters, gnaws on her bottom lip as she breaks eye-contact. "...he took pictures of me." Her voice cracks, and she clears it to get it back to normal. "I know I always said he didn't rape me but-" Olivia's face contracts in conflict about what she is about to say. "-he did. And," she sniffles, squeezing her eyes shut when she feels the burn of oncoming tears. "I don't know what happened. I know what's in the pictures but I don't-," swallowing roughly she turns her head away and shrugs helplessly. When she opens her eyes, she cries. "I don't remember."
XXXXXX
She leaves Lindstrom's office feeling emotionally depleted. She had talked for over an hour, about the pictures and how Elliot had seen them, about Elliot in general (she could see just how surprised he was to hear that about that part), and about the nightmares. She expects tonight to be crappy, not necessarily because of nightmares, but because Lindstrom of course couldn't tell her if she was out cold when Lewis raped her, or if she'd blocked some of it out. She'd been chewing on it for days now, but maybe today's appointment would shake something loose.
She makes her way back to the station, but stays in her office, catching up on the mail traffic of the past few days before punching out without speaking to Amanda. She's not all that sure what to say yet, anyway. It's one more thing she has got to figure out, because she doesn't want to leave it undiscussed. She is grateful beyond words for Rollins' loyalty and discretion.
Her next appointment is scheduled for Monday, and Lindstrom wants her to think about why the Elliot in her dreams blamed her for the kidnapping and subsequent torture, leaving her with Lewis to be raped. Olivia's pretty certain why that is, she's simply hesitant to go there and really let herself feel it all.
He'd left the force without a word, without goodbye, unbeknownst to her moved across the globe and settled in Rome with Kathy and Eli-it's not hard to make the connection. But goddamn, she hates to dwell on it, because she spent months doing nothing else when Elliot came back.
If she has to think it over, she'd rather do it when he's not around, though. She doubts it's going to benefit their relationship when she's working through it while he's sleeping next to her, and she's nowhere near ready to talk about it to him. She will eventually, at least that's her honest intention. For that to happen she first wants to get the nightmares under control. No more jerking awake. No more trouble falling asleep. No more waking up and looking at him, wondering how he could let Lewis do that to her. It'll take some time, but she'll get there.
She'll get there, and she'll find the courage to confide in him, because she trusts him even with the most fragile and splintered pieces of her.
At the end of the work day Olivia punches out and heads home, making a quick spaghetti dinner for Noah and herself. Noah asks about Elliot, because apparently it's weird that after four days he isn't here, and Noah likes it better when he's around. Eli, too, and she understands that he just basks in the company of another kid around here, especially being an only child. Sometimes she wonders if she should have tried to adopt again when Noah was still little. Her heart would have been all in, unfortunately her personal circumstances weren't allowing for it. Financially, things have been challenging with one kid. She didn't have the time, she didn't have the space. And quite honestly, she was lacking the energy and patience for two as a single mother pushing fifty. She constantly wonders how Amanda manages, although Carisi has been around to help out a lot. She didn't have that.
Noah's appeased and happy when she tells him they are going to see Elliot, and possibly Eli too tomorrow. Although they've just spent nearly five days together, she can't say she's had enough, not even for a little while. She's already looking forward to meeting up at the park tomorrow, too.
XXXXXXXXX
He comes without Eli, plus things at work had taken an unexpected turn. Half an hour late he apologizes, kissing her briefly on the cheek, then on the mouth.
"So sorry. I don't have too long," he tells her, glancing at his watch. "Maybe twenty. I promised Eli I'd pick him up from practice."
Noah comes up to Elliot with his scooter, grinning from ear to ear and hitting the breaks just in time. She'd already seen him knock El down.
"Hey, Champ," he greets her son with a high five. "Good day?"
"Yes, we got ice-cream when you were late." Noah glances around, his smile faltering a little. "Where's Eli?"
"Sorry bud, he's got soccer practice. Maybe next time?"
"Okay," he says, sighing almost theatrically, his shoulders dropping, but soon enough he turns his scooter around and drives ahead, giving them the chance to talk.
They start walking, Elliot with his hands in his coat pockets, Olivia's arm looped through his.
"So, long day?" she inquires easily.
"Yeah. Sloomaekers found a money trail to one of our guys, you know the drill," shrugs Elliot as they stroll through the park. It's noticeably cooler than it was for the past couple of weeks, and she shivers, although she's not entirely sure if it's from the temperatures or the tension that she carries in her shoulders.
"Cold?"
"A bit." Olivia waits a few beats. Then: "So," she blows out a small breath as she's looking down, shuffling a foot forward with each step. "I went to therapy today."
"You did?" His pace slows and, when she raises her gaze, she can see him looking at her from her periphery. "To therapy?"
She nods and rubs her palm across her chin. "I've tried to dissect it all for myself, but that didn't work, so," she looks at him, smiling sheepishly.
"That's good, Liv. Really. I just thought you said that things were complicated with your therapist."
"They were," she simpers. "I took care of that, too. Should've done that a long time ago, actually," Liv muses.
"Did it help?" He asks softly, sounding hopeful.
"Does it ever the first few sessions?" asks Olivia, giving an easy shrug. It's always taken her a few appointments. It's easier to talk now than it was when she first started seeing Lindstrom, but that's because she knows and trusts him, and Lindstrom knows her, always asking the questions he knows she'll feel compelled to answer.
"I guess not," gives Elliot. He's been for the better part of last year to deal with the PTSD he had developed after Kathy's murder, so it's funny how normal it has become for them to drop little references to therapy and therapists. "I'm not the best example, though, am I?" he chuckles, and Olivia purses her lips, shaking her head around a small laugh. He had told her when he first went to counseling, and in that same breath admitted he hated it already. Olivia guesses it's safe to assume it took a good while for Elliot to come around to the benefits of shrinking.
"So, what about tonight?" Olivia asks carefully, looking around when Elliot looks at her.
"What about it?"
"I guess what I'm trying to ask is, did you already talk to Eli about staying weekends? I had hoped you'd come over." She feels the hold of disappointment, because obviously Elliot has other plans; she's not bitter though. Truth is, they haven't yet discussed this weekend.
"I didn't get the chance to talk to him with everything going on. I wanted to do that tonight," he explains. "If Eli's up for it." He takes a slow, deep breath. "I figured it would be best if we didn't stay over tonight, seeing how the last time Eli was there you didn't sleep." She hears him, and she hears his concern, but that was different.
"I can sleep now," she reminds him, looking at him for emphasis. "And I can handle the nightmares, El." But she gets it. He wants to protect his son, and he wants to protect her. It's just a little hard not to feel patronized, so before the feeling can start to manifest, Olivia changes the subject. "Do you have any plans then?" she asks, casually.
Maybe a little too casual, because he's on her case right away. "You know Liv, if you wanna spend time, why don't you just say so?" Elliot turns his head and smirks at her cockily and she uses her elbow to poke his side.
"Smug bastard."
He looks proudly at her and she thinks that some things will never change, because this feels beautifully familiar.
"Really though," he nudges her gently. "We can spend the weekend. I'll talk to Eli, we'll make it a trip. Maybe Rockaway, if the weather holds. Take some food, walk around, unwind. They boys can play soccer."
"That sounds lovely."
"And maybe tomorrow night we can sneak out for a couple of hours, have dinner, just the two of us, if Eli agrees to watch Noah."
"Dinner?" She asks, intrigued with the prospect of having time for just the two of them-at a restaurant. With food. And wine. And no interruptions. "Like a date?" Olivia inquires around a grin, and honestly, she thought he'd never ask.
"Like a date," he agrees. The expression on his face changes to sheepish, maybe a little vulnerable. "I should've done that a long time ago, Liv, I just…"
"I get it," she says quickly, because she doesn't want him to feel bad over it. Things had been delicate in the beginning.
"No, I… I would have loved to take you out. You deserved that. To me it felt special and comfortable how we progressed, and a small part of me was scared that us, at a restaurant, doing… doing the entire dating routine… I guess I was worried it wouldn't feel organic."
"There was too much history," Olivia says with a small nod.
"There's that," he agrees. "And then we were still trying to figure everything out between the two of us. My absence, Lewis-," he exhales heavily. "Wheatley. And then explaining to the kids."
"It was a lot," Olivia agrees.
"A bit overwhelming at times," Elliot says, and she can see how he's trying to make a smile appear. "Just, I'm sorry for that, Liv. I should've been more proactive."
She leans into him, searching his proximity, and he unhooks her arm from his and slides it around her middle, pulling her close.
"For what it's worth, we hardly saw each other, and when we did, I was usually beat. Often enough I was glad when we'd just order in and go to bed," Liv admits and chuckles, tilting her head up to him. "Guess that means I'm old."
"I heard they call it mature these days," he teases, and when she throws her head back and laughs a full-belly laugh he squeezes her and presses a kiss into her hair. "I should probably head back now, or else I'll keep Eli waiting. We'll talk later, okay?"
"Later," she agrees.
XXXXXX
"Hey, Eli, come down for a minute?"
"Right now?" The boys' muffled voice filters into the living room, and frustratedly Elliot thinks: 'No, next week works just fine.'
"Yes, please!" he yells towards the stairs, and not a minute later his son appears, pushing his bangs out of his face.
"What?"
"Come over here for a sec," Elliot says, nodding towards the couch. "I want to discuss something with you."
Eli shuffles towards the other end of the sofa and drops down, his hands in his lap as he looks at his father expectantly.
"So, I wanted to discuss something with you about Liv."
"Okay," Eli responds tentatively, his brows creasing, and Elliot shifts against the cushion.
"First off, I want you to know that if you're not okay with it, we'll find ways-," Elliot assures.
"Okay with what?" he wonders. "Is this about you staying with Liv for the week? Is she okay?"
Elliot can hear honest concern for her in Eli's tone, realizing that in the past couple of months he's come to care about her. He's asked last weekend already, and he'd lied, saying how Olivia had been tired.
"It's not about that," Elliot says slowly, but decides to go with honesty. "But I wasn't entirely truthful with you last weekend, Liv hasn't been doing well this past week, which is why I stayed."
"Is she sick?" ask Eli, briefly looking down into his lap, swallowing visibly.
He doesn't want to say too much, because it's not his story to tell, but he wants Eli to have a basic understanding of the situation. "Remember last year, when I wasn't at my best? It's… it's a little like that. Some pretty dark stuff happened to her, it's… it's been a long time but some of it has been dragged up lately, so, if Liv's… acting a little peculiar, or she comes off more distracted, then she just… needs some time, you know?"
Eli nods, but Elliot can see him struggle to take it in by the way a frown settles on his face.
"I am sorry I haven't been as present these past few days, I just… Liv really needed me."
"I get that," Eli says. "So, um… is this you telling me I have to stay with Dicke for longer or something?" The words sound somewhat muffled.
"No, quite the opposite, actually, Eli," Elliot says quickly. "See, Liv and I would like you to spend more time with us. At her place, I mean. We see so little of each other, and Liv really likes having you around."
"Oh." He can't tell if Eli's relieved or disappointed. Maybe it's a little bit of both.
"Eli?" He coaxes gently, hoping he'll share what he thinks. "Look, if this is too much too soon, Liv and I understand that, and we'll take a step back and find a solution that works for everyone."
"No, I… um… I was just thinking," he swallows, and as always when he's uncomfortable his ears turn a hot red. "You really love her, don't you?"
Elliot is stunned into momentary silence, and although Eli is not really looking at him he deserves to hear the answer. He does love her. He thinks he's always loved her, but of course he can't share that. But he'll tell his son what he can without hurting him, without besmirching his mother's legacy. Eli must never know what he thinks has been painfully obvious to his other four kids-that he's loved Olivia long before he was allowed.
"Yeah, I do. Liv's… she's very important to me. I do love her."
Eli nods slowly, and Elliot gets a better understanding of what Liv meant when they were discussing Eli hoping to return to Rome one day, and that their relationship changed everything for him.
"Is that hard for you to hear? Because of mom? Because Eli, your mom? I loved her so, so much…"
"I know," Eli says, and Elliot can see how much he tries not to be affected, so he scoots closer and puts his arm around his son's shoulder, pulling him in. "Look, I promise you, we're going to do this at the pace you're okay with. If this is too much…"
"No, I just… I like her..."
"I know that, Eli. I can see that."
"Okay, so… what does that mean exactly, spend more time?"
"Well, for now we were thinking every Tuesday to Wednesday, and the weekends. And if you're not up for it, I trust you enough to spend a night here." He waits, gauging Eli's reaction, who seems to mull it over. He understands if Eli has boundaries, that he'll come around eventually, even if he isn't up to this new schedule, but God, he hopes he will agree, even if a selfish need stands behind it.
"Okay."
"Okay as in… we'll try that?" Elliot asks tentatively, and in his stomach hopes starts to swirl.
"Yeah," Eli nods. He can see this isn't easy for Eli, that, once again, he's asking his kid to adjust to what his relationship with Liv requires. Sometimes he feels like he's stretched too thin with everything that deserves his attention. Work, Eli. Liv, Noah. There are days where he feels he's rushing from home to the office, to Liv, back home, and it's never quite enough. He doesn't feel home anywhere, always on the run, always trying to be what they need. Trying to ignore what he needs.
He misses the stability he had once known, and if nothing else, he prays that getting more time with Liv and the kids will provide him with it. He wants to feel like he can breathe, not think several steps, several days ahead each time he kisses her hello, kisses her goodbye. He aches for the emotional comfort of her mattress, of the scent that is all Olivia, that has seeped into the wallpaper of her bedroom. He wants to fall asleep next to her without the uncertainty that comes with not knowing when he gets to share her bed again, if it'll be two days, or possibly two weeks.
Slowly Eli disentangles from Elliot's hand on his shoulder, and gets up.
"Eli, thanks. It… it means a lot."
"Yeah, it's okay. You wanna go tonight, or…?" Again Elliot has a feeling Eli tries to sound a lot more casual than he normally would, than he suspects his son truly feels.
"Not tonight, no. We figured tomorrow, if that's okay. We thought about heading out to Rockaway, take the ball."
Eli stands by the stairs, looks at him, blinks a couple of times, and Elliot knows he's just screwed up before he speaks, although he's not quite sure what he's missing.
"I have a game, I mean… you can just pick me up after, I guess."
The soccer game. Shit. He forgot Eli's team is playing tomorrow, and he'd promised weeks ago he'd come and watch.
He hears the disappointment, sees the silent reproach in his son's eyes. He has been used to it for thirty plus years of missing out on recitals and games, from promising and breaking promises.
"Right. Right," he says quickly. "The game. We're going. We'll meet Liv after."
"Whatever," Eli mutters, and before Elliot can do damage control, he vanishes upstairs.
XXXXXXXX
They all go to Eli's game, after Olivia made sure he was okay with it. It was a good game, too, with Eli's team winning 2:1. He's a much better player than Olivia expected, going after that ball with a passion, trying to put it in the goal. He swore in Italian, and momentarily Olivia had felt a little stab to her heart, imagining him on the soccer field back in Italy with Kathy and Elliot cheering him on, instead of her. When Eli looked over at them, she wondered if he imagined the same.
They get pizza for the boys on the way back home because they have a reservation at 8:30.
It's a nice Italian place that Olivia loves, but now, sitting here with Elliot, she can only think of Rome, of a life he had there with Kathy, a life he'd run away from her to have. It's an evening they have to themselves, but ten minutes in and they're talking work and the kids because it feels like the only other thing that's relevant besides that is Lewis. He had controlled her life, days and nights alike, for the entire week. Nothing she'd done between last Friday and tonight is disconnected from the photographs, she realizes, dejectedly. Whenever Elliot looks at her, she puts on a smile, though. It's apparent that he's trying to keep her engaged with the conversation, but she bets he feels it's not working.
She has a little too much wine over the course of the night, in part to make up for barely touching her food. She loves their Carbonara, but it tasted bland tonight.
They leave without ordering dessert, and normally Olivia is all about the tiramisu they serve. They decide to walk the eleven blocks home, because she desperately needs fresh air. With interlaced fingers they walk the streets, and she feels somewhat responsible for the awkwardness of the date, trying to think of how they can salvage the night. She's been on plenty of terrible dates, it's not a note she wants to end on with Elliot.
Eli is asleep on the sofa by the time they get home, so they quietly pad into the bedroom, closing the door. As soon as they are alone she exhales heavily, and Elliot looks at her with pursed lips.
"This didn't go too well, hm?"
She bites her lip and sits down at the foot of the bed. "I'm sorry."
"I didn't mean for it to sound like an accusation," he says, sitting down next to her. "Probably should've known better. Saved it for another time when things aren't…"
"I loved the idea behind it, Elliot, I just…"
"I know," he says quickly, taking her hand, and by the way he squeezes she feels his tension melding with hers. "How about this: we forget about all of it and redo the date. Give it a couple of months, make sure it's really just the two of us."
"And if it's terrible again?" she asks, looking at him disheartened. Right now she can't see how it'll be better, although she knows she won't always feel this way, Lewis won't always be in the back of her mind, taking away from the beauty that's right in front of her. For now she's swimming in the morass of stifling feelings.
"Then there's always wine," he smiles and winks at her.
"That's funny," she says dryly, unable to make even a small smile appear. "I'll go shower."
"All right," he agrees, and presses a kiss to her ear, whispering, "We're okay, Liv."
It hits a nerve, because as far as she can see, he's right. They are okay. This hasn't caused them to fight or fall apart, she hasn't pushed him away, and he has given her all the things she needed when she didn't even know she needed them. She looks at Elliot closely, finding he means this, that there is no doubt within him at all. They are okay. She inhales and exhales slowly, allowing this reality to settle in.
"We are okay," she agrees and leans in to kiss him, her lips brushing across his softly. Her eyes close, and she is reminded that this is what it's supposed to be like after a good date. The flutter in her stomach. The warmth settling on her cheeks and ears. The tenderness of Elliot's nose touching hers.
She smiles a real smile when she breaks apart from him, her voice dropping. "Thank you. For tonight."
"Thank me when I date the hell outta you next time," he grins, and she laughs softly, letting go of his hand as she's headed for the bathroom.
"Watch that ego, Stabler."
"Or what, you'll have me arrested, Captain?" He jokes, and she rolls her eyes so hard, she thinks she can see the back of her skull. She'll never admit how much she enjoys it when he uses her rank, but then, he probably knows.
"Make yourself useful, warm up the bed or something," she tells him before she vanishes in the bathroom.
By the time the spray hits her skin, Olivia feels a little less tense. The hot water helps relax her muscles, eases her mind that has been over occupied for the past couple of hours. She closes her eyes and for a moment sees Lewis' face flashing, so she shakes her head and blinks him away. For months he'd been the permanent image behind her closed eyelids, and she will not allow for it again. She is not going to go back. She's moved forward, worked hard, continues to work hard to find her peace with these new revelations, her new realty. A reality that's always been hers, she just didn't know it then.
She draws a deep, steam-filled breath, accepting this for simple fact. She can't change what happened, and in retrospect she feels she's done a good job of acknowledging the rape so far.
She didn't fall to pieces.
She didn't fall into denial, either.
It still feels like she thinks about the photographs all day every day, she's trying desperately to remember something more about what happened in that bedroom than what has always been etched into her memory.
The mere idea of sex makes her flinch, and it probably will for a few more weeks, because she can't yet compartmentalize between what happened in reality, what happens in her dreams, and what happens in an act of love and trust between her and Elliot. Right now it all falls into the same category, and she shudders at the thought of telling Elliot that.
The other day she'd almost fallen back into old patterns when they'd made out, and she tried to pull Elliot on top of her. She fought for the upper hand, trying to write her own narrative. Maybe she did it because she knew Elliot would have never gone along with it and saved her from herself.
She'd like to think she's grown and escaped these unhealthy patterns of needing to feel validated. She had sex with Cassidy in the aftermath of Lewis, not because she was ready, but to prove to herself, maybe even to Brian, that she still could. That she was not broken. That she could still persist in her line of work. She knows now it had not benefited her recovery, or her relationship with Brian. Back then her sex life had not been something she was willing to discuss with anyone. Not Brian, not Lindstrom. However, she's learned that everything she ever kept inside backfires one way or another, so delving into this deeply personal area seems inevitable.
The tension she's felt swirls down the drain and after another few minutes Olivia gets out of the shower and ready for bed. She feels better. There's just something about hot showers that help immensely when Lewis haunts her.
Elliot's in bed, hunched against the headboard and there's a bottle of wine and two glasses on the nightstand.
"Just in case," he smiles as her gaze settles on it, and she thinks she can do with one more glass.
"Good thought," she says, crawling into bed next to him, cuddling up to him.
"You smell good," he compliments, nuzzling his nose into her hair and neck, breathing in. "Do you feel better?"
"Yes. And no," she says around an awkward chuckle. "I hate that he gets in the way," she says quietly. "That this oppressive feeling I get sometimes overshadows all the good things. I was really looking forward to tonight, El. And I'm sorry it didn't go according to plan because I couldn't really… let loose."
He tilts his head back up and his eyes find hers. Shaking his head he pulls her close, reeling in her warmth, in the smell of her skin, her softness. "Wasn't just you, Liv," he admits. "To be honest, I don't really know how to handle all this. As long as I'm here and feel like I serve some kind of purpose, be here for you? Just be here, really? That's my saving grace right now, I think." His voice drops to a raspy whisper.
"Elliot," she says, softly, and for the first time it hits her how strongly this affects him. She's just been so busy battling her own emotions, that she hadn't thought to check in with how he's doing.
"I know this is not about me. I'm sorry."
"No, El," she says softly, shaking her head at him. "It's about you too. Do we need to talk? Do you need to get something off your chest, because we can talk," she assures him.
"I shouldn't have said anything," he backtracks, and it makes her feel even worse. She reaches up, cups his cheek gently, her face quivering.
"Yes, you should've. What do you need, Elliot?"
He swallows and exhales heavily. "Right now I just wanna lie here with you."
"Okay," she says hesitantly. "But… we're going to talk about it?" She thinks they should. At the very least she wants to know how he's doing with all of this. She knows Elliot. He probably thinks he has no right to say anything since none of it has happened to him, and she wishes it were true.
"I don't know, Liv," he breathes. "I want you to be okay. That's really all. I'll manage, you know."
"Yeah," she says seriously but her chest feels too tight. "I know you'll manage, but do you manage in a healthy way? I mean… how much have you seen, Elliot? Of the pictures," she asks, because she isn't entirely sure she remembers through the haze of tears.
The way his face briefly twitches gives it away.
"You're not expected to just 'manage', El. I'm not saying we have to talk about it right now, but we should eventually." If he needs time, she's ready to give him that. She knows she does to bring certain things up.
"Okay," he agrees, locking gazes. "Eventually."
"Eventually," she says and leans in for a kiss. "I love you," she whispers against his lips.
"I love you," he says back, sinking his hand in her hair, brushing her ear with his thumb until she drops her head against his chest and sighs with contentment. She can get used to this now that Eli has agreed to coming here on a schedule. They can actually start making real, dependable plans, which is one of the good things she wants to focus on. This is the first weekend of what feels like a new life, a new adventure, and she holds onto that thought, hoping it'll keep the nightmares away.
She inhales the heady scent that is Elliot and smiles to herself thinking that yes, they are okay. And everything that's not yet okay are things they will mend in time.
"We're okay," she whispers against his skin, wanting him to know that she believes it.
"Yeah, we're okay," he breathes.
She pretends not to hear the slight tremble in his voice or the light shudder of his chest, instead she wraps herself more firmly around him, wondering how she missed that he needed as much comfort as she did.