Author's Note: Due to the harassment by rating police, the rating has been changed and this chapter edited for content. For the original, please see my AO3 account for the M rated conclusion.
Chapter Four
"And we'll burn so bright til the darkness softly clears" - Afterglow, Ed Sheeran
She suspected, had she been able to see her face in a mirror right then, that her expression would have been priceless. Her scattered thoughts ran through a series of options, the most likely of which was that she was hallucinating again. Her hand fumbled for the call bell the nurse had given her while she grappled with the idea that she was actually so scared of her mental state she was honestly considering revealing it to a healthcare professional.
Mike winced when he saw no welcome from her, glanced over his shoulder toward the door, and then walked around the bed to the opposite side. His hands moved toward hers, pulling the call bell from the vice grip she'd locked it in. His eyes darted toward the door again, a nervous tension radiating from him that felt both familiar and disappointing.
He glanced back and forth between her and the door several times, his hyper-alert manner slowly changing into a heavy, guilt ridden one. "I'm sorry." His hands reached for her again, both of them folding around her left, his grip as desperate as his eyes. "I didn't have a choice, Liv, you know I wouldn't-" He squeezed his eyes closed and drew in a shaky breath. "Not again."
She wanted to stop him, to cut him off, her instinct to comfort him as strong as her instinct to trust him, but she couldn't speak. She couldn't even think. Her mind was reeling, her thoughts as disjointed as ever as they tried to process so much. The fog was still slowing her brain down, keeping her in an unsettling state of consciousness equal parts confused and scared which was only exacerbated by this man she'd swear was Elliot except she couldn't even trust herself that much anymore.
Still unsure of what she was even going to say, she tried to force out words and only one came to mind. "El-"
His hand immediately moved her to mouth, covering her lips with his fingers as his fearful glance darted back to the door. "It's Mike, remember?"
She pushed his hand away from her face, feeling slightly more assured of herself if only because he was acting far too strangely for it to all be in her mind. "I think you should leave." She glanced at the door, wondering what the hell was so damn fascinating that he couldn't keep his eyes off it. "You're pretty good at it."
Undeterred, his hand reached out again, his fingers brushing through her hair. "It wasn't my decision," his voice cracked, causing her to look back up at him and see the tears gathering in his eyes. "You were supposed to get a call." He leaned down, his choked voice dropping to a whisper. "If I wasn't back in a couple days, she was supposed to give you an address, a place to meet me, I told her if she didn't agree, I wouldn't go in."
The combination of the stopped IV drip and her heart racing from the gentle way he stroked her cheek helped to sober her thoughts. He'd been working. It hadn't been safe for him to contact her. And yet, he'd made arrangements, tried to find a way to reach her even though he was risking his life and his job and a whole operation that was probably pretty important if they were willing to put him undercover for a month.
Feeling guilty, she averted her eyes. "She tried. I was too pissed to answer the phone."
His preoccupation with the door had faded and she could feel his stare even when she wasn't looking. "I said if you didn't call in a couple days she should call you. How long did she wait?"
She could hear the question he wasn't asking, his curiosity as to how long was too long, how long she'd actually waited for later to arrive without giving in and calling him, how much time she'd spent thinking he'd just bailed on her again. "Three weeks."
His agitation got the better of him and he withdrew his hands in favor of pacing around the room. "Jesus fucking Christ." He shook his head and balled his hands into fists and she knew he was seriously considering sticking his hand through a wall. Apparently deciding against it, he returned to her side, pain evident in his pinched brow and downturned lips. "I've been waiting in a god damned warehouse every fucking night for a month for you to show up and you never even got the damn message." He shook his head again and she could almost hear the litany of things he was sorting through before he picked which one fell out of his mouth. "I'm going to fucking strangle her."
As angry as his words were, his touch was light when he cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking along her cheekbone. "I promised you I wouldn't leave you, Olivia."
Her eyes gravitated back to his and she saw the conviction there, his certainty that he'd screwed up again, that he'd been entirely to blame, when the truth was she had a hand in it. "I should have called."
"Why would you after what I did?" He squeezed his eyes closed and his voice was resigned when he spoke again, coming as a broken whisper that she feared reflected too much of what he thought about himself. "I ruined everything again, didn't I?" He didn't give her a chance to respond, his hands cradling her face while he leaned down until he was mere inches away. "Olivia, I swear to God, if you give me another chance, I won't fuck it up this time. I'll quit right now. I'll do whatever you want, just don't-" She suspected he would have kept going, kept begging, dropped onto his knees and continued to plead, had his voice not choked up with tears.
She tried to shake her head, remembering only as she started to move that her neck would prefer to go back in the damn collar that spared her muscles from having to work. "Stop, please, I can't-" And she couldn't, absolutely couldn't listen to the man cry for having hurt her, hear the devastation in his voice at the idea of losing her, not without breaking herself. "Please, not here, not like this." She so desperately wanted to say his name, to remind herself that he was there and that he'd come back and the last four weeks had not been the crushing blow she'd thought, but she knew she couldn't say it, couldn't use the one word, the single syllable, that would ground him to her.
He was undercover and his name would not only jeopardize everything they'd suffered all that time for, but it would endanger his life. It wasn't a risk she could take. Paranoid herself now, she checked the door again to make sure it hadn't opened and that there were no suspicious shadows lurking underneath to reveal someone listening.
He nodded as he stood up and pulled his hands away. She was certain, from the way he didn't try to hide his tears, from the halting breaths he took that revealed the sobs he was trying to control, from the way his expression was so awash with pain, that he'd misunderstood her. He had heard rejection, not postponement, and the utter despair on his face surprised her.
She'd been there with him when Kathy was injured, she'd seen his face when his wife had died. He'd been hurt and upset and aching, but he hadn't been broken. He'd been driven to get justice for her, he'd been compelled to hold someone responsible. But this… this was different. This man had no fight in him. He looked like he was ready to lay down and die.
She knew exactly how he felt. She remembered it as though it were yesterday. The pain so fierce, so intense, so sharp, it was like a knife plunging straight through her chest. She'd felt it when he'd left her, when Cragen had told her, when she'd had to face their world by herself, when she'd fallen victim to a sociopath twice and he wasn't there to lean on. She'd felt it again when he came back, when she looked at him and realized she hadn't gotten over him, that she never would. Not even a little. And for the last four weeks when she thought he'd left her again.
She couldn't stand the idea that he was suffering like that, not even if he'd been the one to cause her that same pain. She paid no attention to the physical discomfort as she forced herself to sit up, reaching for his arm before he could get too far away, knowing she had no chance of catching him in her current state if he got out of the room. He was too fast, having cleared the foot of the bed and getting halfway to the door. She was afraid she'd never see him again and yet was too scared to call his name.
"Wait, please!"
She saw him shake his head, recognized the desperate urge to flee from the pain, knew he was looking for somewhere to hide before he started sobbing. She remembered the way she'd barely made it to the interrogation room after she'd found out he'd left her, the way she'd collapsed against the wall in pain, the way she'd cried from a wound so deep it hadn't healed in a decade.
With no other choice, she was resigned to calling his name, knowing she was risking so much, believing that protecting him, them, was worth it, but she got no further than opening her mouth before the sound of her phone ringing caught her attention. It caught his too, stopping his desperate escape, while he pulled her phone from the pocket of his pants.
He turned back, holding it out without meeting her eyes, his face wet from the tears he hadn't managed to hold back. Rather than the phone, she reached for him, the fingers of both hands clinging to his arm, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt for purchase. "Please don't walk away from me." She wished she could move enough to get in his line of sight, to force eye contact, but with the pain medicine no longer flowing, the physical reminders of the crash were becoming more apparent and it was all she could do to keep her hold on him. "Please not again."
His free hand moved to his face, self-consciously wiping at his tears before he finally met her eyes again. He nodded at the phone that only fell silent for a moment before it beeped again with a voice mail notification. "She's been calling you for hours." He blinked a few times, dropping the phone on her bed when she didn't let go of him to reach for it. "I told Fin you were here, I figured you'd want him here." He shrugged at nothing and continued babbling at her in a whisper that revealed how very close to the edge he was. "I think it actually sold my cover when my boss saw me steal a phone from a patient."
She saw the way his face moved as he talked, the way his muscles worked to change his expression as he struggled through something silently, the way his eyes and cheeks and lips tightened to hide the vulnerable Elliot she'd only barely gotten to meet. By the time his eyes met hers again, he had changed completely. Seeing him look at her like that again, the way he had when they were partners, shocked her. He was closed off again, his feelings and gentle nature gone behind an angry, tense mask.
His words from the night of the wedding came back to her, how he'd claimed it had been the situation, not him, that was different all those years ago, and she understood how very true that was - he'd been so quick to process her rejection, so quick to become the man who couldn't have what he wanted, it was obvious to her that he was resigned to it. He didn't expect to get what he wanted, to be happy, and her heart broke over one more thing they had in common.
Still afraid he'd run given the chance, she left one of her hands tightly wrapped around his wrist while the other reached for the phone. "Give me the address of that warehouse. As soon as they let me out of here, I'll meet you. We can't talk here." She swiped open her phone, desperate to find a place to make a note of the location, but too nervous and distraught to even operate her phone. She knew there were a hundred places she might be able to write it down, but her brain wasn't working and she couldn't see through the tears that formed and she couldn't stand the pain of losing Elliot all over again.
And she didn't want the old Elliot back, not anymore, not now that she'd seen a glimpse of what the other option was.
He didn't answer her, but she could see him trying to catch up, trying to understand, wrestling with the idea that the conversation wasn't actually going as badly as he'd first thought, but still unsure and trying to protect himself from the let down. He finally seemed to notice the way she clung to him and moved his hand over hers where it rested on his sleeve. His touch was tentative, far too light for her liking. He wasn't quite sure if he should let down his guard.
She turned her hand over and closed her fingers around his. "Not here isn't a no."
He nodded slowly, his eyes still questioning. "You're sure?" As she nodded in answer, she could see the wall coming back down as a smirk curled one side of his mouth. "No need for the warehouse since we already established that Mike knows Olivia."
"Then maybe Mike knows where Olivia's apartment is?" She started to smile back as his smirk morphed into a full smile.
She marveled at the idea that a few words and a touch from her had the ability to change his mood so dramatically. It scared her to think how easily she could crush him, to acknowledge how much power she had over him, but only until she realized that he wielded the same power over her. A delayed phone call had sent her reeling. The thought that he'd left her again rendered her unable to breathe.
The only way they could move forward would be to trust each other, not just with their lives and careers, but with their emotions, the one aspect of their lives they'd always tried to hide from one another. And while she knew the hospital was not the right place for such a conversation, she had to clear something up before he left.
"When I didn't hear from you," she stopped, choking over the need to say his name to drive home how serious she was, and settled instead on squeezing his hand and holding his eyes. "It really hurt." She watched his smile fade, but she continued before he could say anything. "Promise me that you're not going to do that again."
He returned the pressure on her hand as he nodded. "That was a misunderstanding, Olivia, I never meant for her to wait three weeks." His other hand moved back to her cheek, his fingers playing lightly over her skin. He leaned down until his forehead touched hers, his eyes locked tight with hers. "I swear to god that I will never leave you again. If you don't hear from me when you're supposed to, you should assume something is wrong."
She hated the thought, but the words, the sentiment, the eye contact, did the trick. She believed him. She felt a certainty take the place of the nagging doubt she'd always had when it came to him. She absolutely loved him and she always had and she always would and she wanted to tell him that, but she couldn't. Not yet. Not here.
Instead she swallowed back the only profession of love that she'd ever truly meant and nodded. "Next time I will shoot you, I mean it."
"There won't be a next time, I promise."
She tried to nod again, but her muscles refused to cooperate anymore, reminding her of the crash and the awkward position she'd been trapped in and the pain medicine she'd refused.
He read her tells as easily as he always had, breaking the eye contact long enough to kiss her forehead. "Get some rest." He let go of her hand and lifted her phone. "Since we're friends now, you should probably have Mike's number."
"Wait, you called Fin?"
"I texted him, I had eyes on me most of the night, it was the best I could do. I figured he'd know how to make arrangements for Noah."
"How'd you know my password?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Your badge number, Liv? The same password you've used for everything for almost twenty years?"
"I should have used Noah's birthday." She wanted to be embarrassed, but she was glad he'd thought to contact Fin. Noah had been spared a potentially frightening experience. And she hadn't had to wake up confused and alone.
Her phone rang in his hand and he turned the display to her, showing her Kathleen's name. "Like I said, she's been calling all night, she must be worried about you."
She reached for the phone, declining the call. She would talk to Kathleen, but only after he left. "No, she's worried about her father because he missed her birthday." She saw the wince and the guilt written all over his face. "I'll take care of it. She'll be ok, she's just scared something's wrong."
"Tell her-" His eyes moved to the door, but this time, rather than continuing, he stopped speaking and pulled his hands back to his sides.
A moment later, the nurse appeared. "The doctor is going to be in to see you about the pain medication-" She noticed Elliot and then smiled at Olivia. "I didn't mean to interrupt, I'll be back later."
Elliot was quick to back away. "I was just leaving." He looked back at Liv with a smile. "Glad you're feeling better." He was gone a moment after that, leaving Olivia staring at her phone and wondering if it was too soon to text him.
"Oh, you found your phone!" The nurse checked over the equipment once again, her hand lingering by the IV pump. "You sure about the pain meds?"
Olivia smiled, her eyes locked on the name Mike Mahoney in her contacts. "Yeah, I'm fine."
It was four days before she saw him again. She hadn't, despite her best efforts, been able to talk her way out of the hospital for two of them, the first of which was spent alternately arguing with her doctors that she didn't want pain medication and assuring the Stabler children that their father was ok after all. On the third day, when she was finally home, Mike was working a double shift and wasn't going to be off until after she was due at work. But on the fourth evening, however, Mike was getting off work at eleven and it was long past Noah's bedtime and Liv was getting reasonably comfortable with maneuvering around on her crutches so they finally had a chance to talk.
As eager as she was to see him, the anxious butterflies flitting about in her stomach wouldn't leave her alone. They hadn't spoken, but they'd been texting regularly because it was easier with their conflicting schedules. There were still things that needed to be said in person and she was ready to say them, she was, but she was still nervous. Desperate too, because she'd wanted to see him so damn much for four weeks and then when she'd finally been face to face with him, they'd been forced to limit their interaction. But now, now things were different. He was still undercover, but unlike their interactions for the past few days, he wouldn't be Mike. In her home, he would be Elliot. There would be no hiding, no filter. They'd be back to where they'd been the night of the wedding, except this time she was ready.
When she finally got his text that he was on his way up, she picked up her crutches and made her way to the door. She was getting better at navigating with them, but she was still slow and she didn't want to delay their reunion even a second more.
She pulled the door open before he had the chance to knock, trying to look somewhat coordinated as she attempted to move out of the way of the swinging door. She was too nervous and her hand almost slipped off one of the crutches, so she reverted back to her preferred method of hopping as the crutch clattered noisily to the ground. Elliot was laughing as he squatted down to pick up the crutch she'd dropped.
He didn't have the chance to offer it back to her when she dropped the other, reaching her arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. In another second, his arms were around her as well. His face turned in to press against her hair as he held her tight.
"I was going to ask if you missed me, but," he squeezed her a little harder, pulling her whole body against his. "I think I missed you more."
"Not possible." She shook her head as she pulled back to look at him, noticing for the first time the dark purple bruise around his left eye. "What happened?"
He shrugged. "Don't worry about it." His arms were slow to release her, making sure she was steady before he collected her crutches from the floor. "How are you feeling?"
"Like there's a metal plate and screws holding my leg together." She shook her head and started hobbling toward the couch. "It's fine. They said I'll be good as new in a couple weeks."
She knew it was coming, the awkwardness as they transitioned a long standing, unspoken, mostly physical contact-free relationship into something entirely different. She suspected their behavior patterns would take a long time to change, especially after so many years of denying the urge to get too close.
In typical Elliot style, he sat in the middle of the couch, taking up the vast majority of it and spreading his arm across the back. She didn't want to give into the uncertainty, she didn't want him to see it, not after she'd just thrown herself into his arms and he'd welcomed her without hesitation. She tried to pretend it was the massive boot around her leg that made it difficult to get herself situated next to him. As soon as she settled with her leg propped up on the coffee table and a few inches between their bodies, Elliot shifted over, closing the distance, draping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his chest.
"This ok?" He could certainly feel the nervous tension in her, but his voice was a rumble under her ear and she felt the anxiety drain out of her immediately. This was most definitely ok. In fact, she wasn't sure she ever wanted to sit on her couch again if she couldn't sit there snuggled into his side.
She swallowed hard and decided it was time to tell him the things she'd wanted to say in the hospital, to tell him what had been true for so long, to tell him what she wasn't going to force herself to deny any longer. It was time to trust him completely and make sure he knew what followed would be up to him.
"El, you asked me to tell you when I was ready." She looked up, catching his surprise and uncertainty. "I'm ready." She waited, watching while his fear melted into happiness.
His eyes held hers for a long time and she knew he was reading her, looking for a tell, waiting for her to backpedal. She couldn't blame him, she'd done plenty of it in the past. But things were different now. What she wanted, what he wanted, what they wanted, was a possibility and she didn't want to wait anymore. She'd seen how easily she could destroy him with a few words and she'd experienced how much he could hurt her. With so much ability to suffer at one another's hands, she thought it was only fair they could bring each other comfort and pleasure too.
"You're sure?" He waited still, double checking as she nodded. "I don't mean to push."
She smiled and slid her hand up his chest, over his throat, until her fingers brushed his lips. "I love you, El, I've loved you for so long, I think I've always loved you."
She saw the wall come down finally, the last part of himself he kept protected. There were physical signs, the way his shoulders relaxed, the way his hold on her lightened yet somehow felt more possessive, the happy smile that curved his lips. But it was the change in his eyes that confirmed everything for her. She'd had a glimpse of it that day she'd finally found justice for Simon, when they'd talked in the stairwell, but this time, she knew, was different. This wasn't him letting his guard down for a moment. This was him letting her in. This was forever. And she knew, unlike every other relationship she'd ever had, this forever really was forever.
Her fingers gently grazed the ring of purple around his left eye. It was still a pale shade, still puffy, and she knew the bruise was fresh, probably only a few hours old. It would look worse in the morning, but it had to hurt like hell. "You want some ice for that?"
He shook his head, his grip tightening, his hand pressing flat against her back. "It's fine."
The intensity in his eyes nearly took her breath away and she realized he wasn't lying. At that moment, he was fine, he probably didn't feel it at all. The same way she didn't feel the constant throbbing in her ankle anymore. All she could feel was the overwhelming need to kiss him and she suspected he was right there with her.
Her hand trailed down from his eye to his chin before slowly sliding to the back of his neck. She knew he was waiting for her to prove she was ready. And she was ready, to move their relationship forward and to prove it. She leaned toward him, holding his gaze until the very last moment, loving that the wait was finally over, knowing this was the last first kiss she would ever have.
But this was also the one she'd been waiting her entire life for. This man, this love, this moment was the reason she'd been born.
Still, she drew it out, closing the tiny gap remaining between them with almost agonizing slowness, letting him have every opportunity to change his mind if he wanted, fearing she might combust from the sparks flying between them.
And then finally, suddenly, his mouth was against hers, the light pressure growing intense as their lips met for the first time. The contact had barely registered before her mouth was falling open, welcoming his tongue as he deepened the kiss. She shifted closer, leaning over him, trying to regain control of the kiss she'd instigated and realizing, as his hands slipped under the hem of her shirt, that neither of them was particularly in control of anything. His hands against her bare skin pulled her attention away from the kiss, her head falling back as she reveled in the sensation.
He wasn't the least deterred, his mouth sliding along her chin and pressing wet kisses along the column of her throat. She shifted herself over, bending her knee and moving to straddle him. Unfortunately, she knocked her leg into the coffee table as she went, the bump causing pain to shoot through her ankle.
She gasped in sheer misery as the sharpness settled back into the throbbing she was more accustomed to. "Fuck, that hurt."
"You ok?" His eyes held hers as he tried to read her face for the answer instead of waiting for her response.
She nodded, seeing no need to point out that the throbbing was a bit more intense than usual. With a smile, she let her eyes drop to his lips and linger there pointedly before she looked back up. "Where were we?" She distracted him quite thoroughly from answering with a kiss, taking her time to learn the feel of his mouth on hers, the way he responded to her touch, the sound of his breath hitching when she dragged her mouth across his chin, the tension in his whole body as he shuddered when her mouth found his throat and tasted the exposed skin there.
His hands slid up under her shirt again, his hands cool on her heated skin. His fingers danced across her sides and back, barely making contact as they left a trail of tingling goosebumps in their wake. He turned into her, his mouth by her ear as he mumbled at her. It took three tries for the sounds to become coherent, though she really wasn't sure if that was due to the fact that she was suckling on his neck or because she could feel the hard length of him as he pushed against her.
"Maybe I'm being presumptuous here, but should we move this to the bedroom?"
It had been far longer than she cared to admit and so was loathe to move and give up the contact she'd missed from anyone and dreamt of from him, but he had a valid point. Noah was a curious kid and if he woke up, he might be tempted to investigate unfamiliar noises. And, truth be told, she really wanted the space afforded by a bed for other investigative pursuits as related to Elliot's body.
She reluctantly slid back, attempting to be graceful as she stood while she kept her right foot well off the floor. There was something decidedly not sexy about the damn plastic boot she was wearing, but the surgeon had given her strict instructions about wearing it even to sleep for another ten days. And she absolutely wasn't willing to wait another ten days to finish what they'd just started.
She feared it was going to be quite the mood killer when she led Elliot to her bed on crutches too, but they were adults and shit happened and, with their luck, she was tired of waiting for all the stars to align.
When Elliot stood up, he pulled her close, his hands low on her hips, trying to lift her. She wanted to laugh, imagining that he still saw the 30-something woman she'd once been the same way she sometimes looked at the man he was and saw the man he had been.
"El, just give me my crutches. I don't think this is going to work."
His eyes met hers, smirking at the challenge she hadn't meant to issue. With what appeared to be very little effort whatsoever, he lifted her up, encouraging her legs to open around his hips. He moved across the room, pausing briefly in the hallway, just long enough to press her against the wall. His hands slid up to her waist and then further to explore her chest as his head dropped forward, his mouth glancing along her collarbone.
Mindful of her child sleeping on the opposite side of the wall, she bit back the moan that threatened. "Christ, Elliot," she hissed, remembering this was not how she wanted to teach Noah about the birds and the bees while knowing she didn't have enough willpower to resist if Elliot decided the hallway was the spot.
His hands drifted back down her body, tucking behind her knees and pulling her hard as he thrust against her. He moved his hands again, letting them drift under her shirt, his fingers sliding up her belly, over her skin. He was taking his time to explore, his face pressed into her throat as his fingers continued to move.
She felt it, his confusion, his fear, his concern. She'd expected it, she'd known it was coming, but somehow she'd been so distracted that she'd forgotten until she felt him pause, the unplanned path of his fingertips suddenly becoming focused as they traced over one of her scars. His curiosity must not have been piqued, however, as his exploration continued, until he found one too many anomalies. Damn it. She'd wanted to tell him, warn him, prepare him somehow for the shock that would be discovering her once flawless skin was no longer. He moved to look at her, his eyes worried as he tried to determine what exactly the evidence was that he'd just discovered.
"I should have told you." There was so much they hadn't found time to discuss, and even if they had, her experience with William Lewis wouldn't have been among the first thousand topics she brought up.
"Olivia," his voice was flat, even, the slightest edge of an order sounding through as he pulled the hem of her shirt. "Take it off." His hands retreated to her ass, holding her securely, expecting she would comply.
She felt tears pricking her eyes as she looked away. She'd had sex since Lewis. She'd had periods where she'd refused to remove her shirt, other times when she insisted on facing away from her partner, but somehow this was unexpected. She couldn't imagine not being able to see his face while they made love, nor could she stand the thought of anything coming between them when they finally consummated a relationship nearly twenty-five years in the making. But she also couldn't stomach the possibility of seeing disgust or revulsion on his face. Or worse yet, pity.
She was frozen in indecision, knowing he'd relent if she asked, fearing he'd take it as rejection if she refused.
"Liv-" His eyes locked on hers the moment she looked back at him and she could see the plea before he even voiced it.
"I do."
"Do what?" He was completely distracted now and she felt bad for the man, holding her weight while they attempted to have a little chat.
"Trust you." And she did. Not everything was a test for them and it didn't need to be. She'd decided to pursue this relationship and he had as well and, if that were true, it was inevitable that he was going to see her with her shirt at some point. Might as well put her cards on the table. She took a deep breath and pulled her shirt over her head, throwing the fabric in the direction of her bedroom.
His eyes stayed on hers for a long time, the fact that she'd trusted him enough to expose something that upset her clearly meaning everything to him. She could see the way he struggled with the emotions without once dropping his eyes. It was, had always been, about the trust between them, the unspoken things that bound them together more tightly than any words ever could, the feelings that could never been accurately expressed by any means besides long, aching , heavy stares.
But sometimes, words were necessary. She nodded, knowing there was no need to fear his reaction. "It's ok, El."
He nodded back. "I love you."
It was only after she nodded again that his eyes finally shifted down, the weight of his eyes heavier than the gentle brush of his fingers over the outlines of her scars. His lips pressed against her skin, not on her scars, not around them, but everywhere, his eyes and his mouth and his fingers moving over her skin as though there were no scars, nothing out of the ordinary to notice.
With a mental strength she hadn't been aware she possessed, she reached for his chin, pulling his mouth from her skin. "Not here."
His eyes darted around as though he had no idea where he was, finally finding the hand-lettered "Noah's Room - Keep Out!" sign posted at waist height on the door two feet away. He leaned back in, his mouth pressing over hers as he repositioned his hands and lifted her from the wall.
He finally gotten them into the bedroom, kicked the door closed behind them with a grunt, and dropped them onto the bed. He sat back, sliding his hands over her body. He seemed to be staring at her and the darkness of the room made it difficult to see his expression. She began to feel self-conscious, knowing she couldn't blame all the changes in her body to age when the man staring at her was older than she and in better shape than she'd ever seen him.
"El, stop staring." She reached up for his shirt, hoping to pull him closer to both block his view and refocus his attention on something besides staring at her. "Come here."
He leaned forward, reading her as always, his face hovering inches away from hers so she could see his eyes in the low light. "I want to stare at you because you're fucking perfect, Olivia."
She couldn't speak because his words, his love, his conviction, strangled her into silence. Instead she leaned up, catching his lips and answering him with a searing kiss.
She'd had sex plenty of times in her life, but this time, this was different. This was love, passion, trust, connection, partnership - everything that she'd never really been able nor felt comfortable labeling when she'd worked by his side for so many years. This was what she'd missed when he'd disappeared from her life. As much as she wanted to continue their current endeavour, she felt the emotional tide rolling through her which made her just want to hold him close and revel in the idea that she now had that option, the freedom to hug him whenever she wanted and the utter belief that he wouldn't even try to stop her. He was right there and she felt like she'd never be close enough to him. She couldn't fathom how she'd survived years - ten fucking years - without even knowing where he was let alone without being able to touch him.
And once again he read her thoughts, somehow knew where her mind had gone, and he let up from the kiss, dropping his forehead against hers, holding her eyes. "I'm sorry."
She knew better than to brush it off, to accept his apology without hearing him. "For what?"
He lifted his head, his hands moving to cup her cheeks. "For making you wait." He clenched his jaw and blinked several times as he tried to get himself together. "I made you wait for so many damn years. I didn't know what to do, how to fix it, but I'm so sorry for wasting all that time."
She hadn't realized how much she'd needed to hear the acknowledgement until then, until she saw the remorse on his face. She'd always known about his faith and how seriously he took his marriage vows and she wouldn't have loved him if he hadn't been faithful and she never would have put up with being the other woman anyway, but it meant the world to her that he knew how much it had hurt to stand there and wait for something she never expected would actually happen. She ran a finger over his lips, tracing through his goatee. "You didn't have a choice, Elliot, I know that."
"When Kathy and I split up that time, when she was trying to divorce me," he swallowed hard and winced. "When she threw me out, it was over you, because I wouldn't ask for a new partner. She said I was in love with you and she didn't understand why I wouldn't just leave her. I knew she was right, but I didn't know how to tell you." His voice cracked as the words tumbled over each other, revealing the depth of hurt he'd hidden for so many years. "I didn't think you felt the same way. I'm sorry I never had the nerve to say it. I was so afraid of losing you that I kept hurting you and by the time I realized it, I didn't think you could ever forgive me. I thought you'd be better off if I left."
She held his eyes, fighting to keep back her tears, trying to silently remind him that it was different, they were different. "And now?"
"And now I know the truth." He smiled at her, the love he'd professed shining in his eyes. "It was always going to be me and you, wasn't it?"
She smiled back. "I'm sorry for ruining the mood."
With a smirk, he shifted his hips against hers, letting her feel how very unchanged his body's mood was. "Are we good?"
Leaning up to catch his lips, she nodded. "Always."
It took her a long time to even identify which of the tangled limbs belonged to her, which of the heaving breaths were hers, where she ended and he began. The only thing she knew in that moment was that she was happy. She'd never felt so contented in her life.
As their bodies cooled from the rush, when she had only just started to feel a chill, Elliot rolled them to their sides, pulling the blanket around them, cuddling her close to his chest.
He kissed her softly, letting his lips brush over her cheek and forehead and hair before his head dropped down to the pillow. "Get some sleep, baby."
She wanted nothing more than to snuggle into him, to settle into his embrace and rest, but she feared the morning, the reality that threatened to crash down around them at any time. As much as she hated to upset the safe bubble they'd created for themselves, she knew things weren't entirely settled yet. "Don't you have to go back?"
"Not until morning." He tilted her chin up so he could meet her eyes. "I won't leave without waking you, Liv, you know that."
She nodded, the ache, the sadness, the fear creeping in. "But you still have to leave."
His hand shifted to brush her hair back from her eyes, reverence in his stare as a tear escaped. "A few more days, maybe a week, Liv, and it's done. I swear, this is it. I'll retire if I have to, but I will never leave you again."
She wanted to accept the vow, to let him make the sacrifice of his career, but she couldn't, wouldn't ask that of him any more than she'd want to be asked herself. She shook her head. Their jobs were dangerous, but they were important. That calling had brought them together and she trusted it would keep them that way.
"No, El, you have to do your job." She shifted up until she could press her lips to his. "Just promise me that you'll come back to me."
He nodded, his fingers slipping through her hair and guiding her head back to rest on his chest. "Always, Olivia, always."