A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews! I initially intended this fic to be a two-shot, but it looks like there will be at least one more chapter after this one! All comments are welcome so please review! Happy Reading!

**T/W** Panic Attacks

1:02am: Olivia stares up at the ceiling, eyes tracing the steaks of light coming in through the window. He's one of the good guys. He hurt me. He seems sorry. Forgiveness may take some time. Maybe I should give him a chance.

2:35am: Olivia may have fallen asleep. She can't be sure. Even if she had, her brain hadn't gone quiet. The sound of his voicemail echoes in her ears. 10 years later she can still hear it. She called so many times, she's committed it to memory; not only the words but the tone of his voice, the rhythm of his speech. She can hear it in her head now, and with it comes a sinking feeling in her stomach, remembering the tiny flicker of hope she had that he'd answer, extinguished after 5 rings and that familiar, painful click of the voice message starting.

3:44am: The pillow is too warm, the sheets too tight around her legs, the air too heavy. Olivia sits up, kicking off the blankets and padding over to the window, flicking the lock and opening it a bit. A rush of cool, spring air carries the sounds of the city on its back. She had always imagined him roaming the streets late at night, sipping coffee, maybe stopping at her old building to look up at her window, checking to see if her lights were on. Even after she moved, she still pictured him stopping, thinking about her, instinctively knowing where she was. But he was never there. Not under her window, not in the city, not in the country. Did he ever stop to remember her?

4:28am: Olivia sits on the edge of her bed, fire burning in her belly. He doesn't deserve it. Not my friendship or my time or my forgiveness. I sat and I cried and I ached with grief and he never looked back. He made me feel worthless, expendable, replaceable, unworthy, alone. I am stronger than that. I lived without him for 10 years. Fuck if I need him now.

5:07am: Olivia leans against her headboard, knees pulled up to her chest. In its usual fashion, her anger had turned to immense sadness. Then the list starts, the one she subconsciously has kept track of all these years, of all the times she wished he'd been there. The moments where she had heard his voice echoing in her ears:

The click of Lewis' gun as she entered her apartment; Blink your lights when you get inside.

The day she adopted Noah; You know you'd make a great mom...any way you want to do it I'll support you.

The day Sheila showed up, and she worried that she wasn't enough for her son; It's not all about genes, Liv. All you can do is love your kids.

I'm your partner, for better or worse…

I'd give you a kidney…

I should've come back sooner...

She cries.

5:53am: Olivia takes a few deep breaths, closes her eyes, and grounds herself. She is tired, emotionally spent, and so incredibly confused. Her brain has quieted, the waves have quelled, and in their wake is one image; Elliot's eyes just before she walked away. They looked just as hers had after he left- hurt, sad, desperate. She didn't deserve what she'd gone through, but neither did he. As hurt as she'd been, she never wanted to hurt him back. They'd both suffered enough. She opens her eyes and lifts the photo off her nightstand. At the end of the day, all she wants is her best friend back.

Reaching for her phone, she finds his name in her recent calls and hesitates only a second before tapping on it.

Ringing. One, two, three, four, five times. And then click. "Thank you for calling, leave a message." She doesn't.

A dizzying feeling of deja vu; she's transported back a decade sound of his voicemail, the desperation in her voice that she'd tried so hard to hide, the way her heart skipped every time her phone rang, the crippling disappointment when it wasn't his voice on the other end of line. She couldn't do that again. He hasn't left. He's probably sleeping. He wouldn't disappear again.

Would he?

8:29am: Ringing. One, two, three, four, five. Click.

Maybe he was called in early on a case

"Elliot, it's me. If you have some time today...could we talk? Call me when you can."

1:14pm: Olivia washes her hands and stares at herself in the mirror. She takes a few, deep breaths in an attempt to calm her rising panic. This is an old fear. These are old feelings. Elliot isn't on a plane back to Rome. I will get the chance to talk to him again. To see him. To hear his voice.

2:00pm: Olivia sits at her desk, foot restlessly tapping on the floor, eyes scanning the same few sentences over and over again. She takes off her glasses and rubs her hand across her forehead. Her phone vibrates. It takes less than a second for her to grab it and read the name on the screen. Her heart skips, then falls. It's Fin.

4:49pm: She was grateful to have been out on a call. Being busy helped her not to fixate. It didn't stop her from pulling her phone out of her pocket every chance she got, eyes desperately searching for his name. A call, a voicemail, a text. Anything. Now, back in the quiet of her office, the worry was almost dizzying. She just needed to know he was still there. That he was ok. That she had a chance to take back her goodbye. She fidgets with the phone in her hands. She had been afraid to seem desperate, afraid to reach out again, but all of that was being overshadowed by her fear. I"ll try one more time.

Ringing. One, two, three, four, five. Click.

Fuck.

Olivia gathers her jacket and keys and walks quickly from her office.

Olivia's heart pounds in her ears as she takes long strides down the hall to Elliot's apartment. She isn't the praying type, but for the last hour she'd been pleading with whatever power was out there that Elliot hadn't left, that after she had said goodbye to him, he hadn't decided to take off again.

Outside his door, Olivia checks her phone one last time. Nothing. With a shaky breath, she lifts her hand and knocks on his door. She listens as the seconds pass.

One, two, three, four… and finally, there are footsteps.

Elliot opens the door slowly, hesitantly, clearly not expecting anyone. Their eyes meet through the break in the doorway, and he looks as if he's seen a ghost. He opens the door fully, his brow furrowed. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, something deep inside Olivia breaks. A sound she doesn't recognize escapes her lips, and she throws her arms around his neck. The fear dissipates from her body, leaving her so light with relief that all her walls momentarily fall away. She breathes him in, revels in the feel of his body against hers.

Elliot hesitates for only a moment before wrapping his arms around her, "Liv, are you ok?"

His words snap her back to her senses, and she pushes herself away from him. Her voice is louder than she expected, shaky with the adrenaline suddenly pumping through her. "No! No, Elliot I'm not!" she paces a bit, her fingers begin to tingle, her breath shortens, "I thought you were-" she struggles to get enough air into her lungs. Her vision swims, "I thought-" And then she is gasping, her chest burning with effort. Her legs feel unsteady, and her hands shake.

Elliot knows what's coming. He ushers her inside. "Ok," he says soothingly, "Just breathe." He doesn't touch her, unsure of what needs when she's in this state. He closes the door behind them, and before they can come any further into the apartment, her legs give out, and she slides to the floor, her back against the entryway wall. She hides her face in her hands, her body compact and tense. He can hear her struggling to take a breath. He lowers himself to the floor opposite her. "I'm here, Liv. You're ok. I'm right here."

His voice helps to pull her back. Olivia tries to ground herself, to focus on what she can feel. She becomes aware of the cool, sturdy wall against her back, the tears pooling in her palms, the racing of her heartbeat in her throat. She moves her hands from her face, but keeps her eyes downcast. Elliot extends his hand to her, palm upward, a lifeline. She slides her hand into his and squeezes it tightly. His fingers close around hers, warm and strong and steady. She studies their hands, the marks and scars on his fingers, and becomes hyper aware of his rough skin against hers. She watches his thumb pass repetitively over her knuckles and counts the strokes to ten over and over and over. They sit, silent, unmoving, until her lungs begin to fill properly, her tears slow, and her muscles relax. Olivia pulls her eyes from their hands and meets his gaze. His mouth lifts in a soft smile.

"Hi," he says quietly.

She studies him, the lines and creases that have appeared over the years he was gone, the stubble on his jaw, studded with grey, this face that has changed so much and yet not at all. She traces her way back to his eyes- unmistakably his, unchanged- and in them she sees the man who kept her safe and made her feel safe and seen. Her voice is thick and hoarse when she speaks, "Don't leave." She is unsure if she means in this moment or tomorrow or for the rest of their lives, but no other words come to her.

Elliot squeezes her hand in response, "Not going anywhere." His words are simple, but in his eyes there is a promise; not in this moment, not tomorrow, not for the rest of their lives.

They sit a while longer. When her breathing returns to normal and her body starts to sag with fatigue, he stands and pulls her up, leading her to the couch. Neither says a word. She sits, letting go of his hand, and clasps her palms together, trying to hang on the last bit of his warmth. He goes to the kitchen and returns with a bottle of water. Olivia nods her thanks, takes a sip, then lifts the cold bottle to the back of her neck, letting the cold keep her present.

Elliot sits in a chair adjacent to her, "Ok?"

Olivia puts the bottle down and nods, "Mmm," she hums, "Thanks." There's a pause before she speaks again, "I' sorry you had to see that."

"Liv, don't apologize. It's not like I haven't experienced my share of panic attacks these last few months," he says casually.

Olivia feels her cheeks flush with embarrassment, "I was trying to get a hold of you today…" she trails off.

"Oh," he says, surprised, "I set my phone to only allow calls from my kids and Ayana. Eli was having a really hard day, missing his mom, his home, it was like all his grief finally caught up to him. So we spent the day together. I took him to the places Kathy and I used to go, and drove him by the old house. I just wanted to give him a sense of home here."

Olivia takes in his words feeling guilty, embarrassed, "Is he ok?" she asks quietly.

Elliot sighs heavily and rubs his eyes, "I think so. He's spending some time with Dickie and Kathleen tonight."

"That's good."

"I'm sorry I didn't see your calls. Did something happen?" His voice is laced with quiet concern.

Olivia stammers a bit before she can answer, "I was just worried about you. I uh…" instead of finishing her thought, she looks up and holds his eyes for a long moment.

Elliot shakes his head, "You thought I left."

Olivia drops her head, ashamed. Elliot gets up suddenly, and she thinks he may ask her to go. She wouldn't blame him. To tell him she didn't want to be in his life, to walk away, only to show up crying on his doorstep, she feels like she's done everything wrong.

But he doesn't ask her to leave. He isn't upset. Instead, he sits beside her, "Olivia," he says, and waits to continue until she looks at him, "What I did to you ten years ago, was the worst thing I have ever done," his eyes are glassy, and his voice low and quiet, "I've spent my life putting my own needs aside so I wouldn't hurt the people I love...but in that moment...I failed. Hurting you is something that I have regretted every single day."

Olivia closes her eyes, the intensity of his stare overwhelming. He covers her hand with his, and she knows that he wants her to look at him. She breathes deeply and opens her eyes. His are sad, but focused, sincere, "I am so sorry for the way I left you. I am sorry I didn't talk to you or answer your calls. I am sorry that I never checked in," his face reddens, "My biggest regret is how much of your life I missed. I look at you and Noah and this incredible life you've built, and it kills me that I wasn't there. I'm just...sorry."

Olivia nods slowly, taking in his words, "Ok."

Elliot raises his eyebrows slightly, "Ok?"

Olivia turns her hand over and holds his, "I believe you. And I am going to forgive you. Maybe not today, but I am. Because I want you in my life, Elliot."

With her words, he nearly crumbles. He leans forward, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, and let's go of the tears he's been holding on to do tightly. After last night, he never thought he would get the chance to make things right. The overwhelming sense of gratitude leaves him breathless.

"El?"

He sits up, turns to her, and before he can think about what he's doing, he presses his lips to her forehead. Not sure whether or not he's overstepped, he pulls away and drops his gaze to her face. She's smiling, soft and content, a smile he's only dreamt about since he left. A smile that makes his heart pound. They are silent for a long moment, then she speaks.

"Last night," she says, as though a spark didn't shoot through her entire being when his lips touched her skin, "I wasn't fair to you," she wrings her hands a bit, "When you left, when I truly had to accept that you were gone, it was too painful to remember the best parts of you. I had to take your kindness, your loyalty, your sense of humor, your heart….every good thing about our relationship, and I had to put it away. For ten years, the only version of you I allowed myself to remember was the guy who left. The partner who left me behind and never returned my calls. Never reached out. You became just another person who walked away, nothing more than a voice message on the other end of the line. It's the only way I was able to move on." Olivia studies him, then pushes forward, "And then there you were. Calling my name in the middle of the street like no time had passed at all. And I was afraid."

This pulls Elliot up short, "Of me?"

Olivia shrugs, "When I saw you, it released all of those good things about you that I'd tried so hard to forget. As soon as I looked at you, I only saw everything I missed about you."

He understands now. "And if you remembered that, you were opening yourself up to being hurt again."

She nods. "What I said to you yesterday is true. You don't know the person I've become. You don't know what I've been through or how I've changed, but I don't know your journey either. I know who you were," she exhales heavily, "but after I left here last night I realized, I want to know who you are now"

A smile breaks across his face. God, she loves that smile. The way his eyes crinkle, the way it transforms his rough exterior. His words are simple. Perfect. "I want to know you, too."