Chapter Six – Ubi amor, ibi dolor (Where there is love, there is pain)
Playlist: A Part of Us – Yael Naim || It Hurts 2B Human – P!NK
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my ability to write.
She had gone home and taken a shower, allowing the warm water to cascade over her skin, trying to wash away any anger or agitation she had felt prior to the chat she'd initiated in her SUV. Showers helped clear her mind, in the same way that running helped Amanda Rollins clear her mind, or in the way that going to Broadway shows helped Rafael Barba unwind. Everyone had their coping mechanisms or ways to relax, hers just happened to be warm showers. She needed to not be pissed off anymore.
Exiting the shower, she wrapped herself in the oversized gray towel she'd picked out because it was gentle against her skin while she was healing. She'd bought several of the towels once she felt how soft and absorbent they were. She'd had them monogrammed though, because she secretly was a bit of a princess. Not that she'd admit it to anyone.
She had selected her outfit for comfort, one of the several flowy lounge pants she'd grown to love for the moments when she and Noah were relaxing around the apartment, and a navy blue NYPD shirt she had stolen from her former partner years ago. It was one that she had kept stashed in the back of her t-shirt drawer, hidden underneath her own grey shirts. She couldn't bring herself to ever get rid of them, no matter how many times she'd replaced hers, she'd kept this specific one just for herself.
So, as she sat at the dining room table she stared at the cup of tea she'd made herself sitting on the coaster, she decided against wine tonight. She would need to be stone-cold sober when the conversation happened that she was anticipating. She wasn't sure how long it would actually take him to finish the letter, and she'd hoped that he would finish it – that he wouldn't stop in the middle, that he would be willing to discuss it with her.
She hoped he would understand why it was she had to tell him she can't. She hoped he would be patient and wait just a little longer. That he didn't have to go seeking comfort in someone that he literally just met twenty minutes ago.
She just wanted them both to heal, and she wanted to be able to report to 1PP that their sessions were going well. She wanted Dr. Lindstrom to be able to fill out the affidavit that stated she'd successfully done what they'd asked her to. But, above it all, she just wanted her best friend back – maybe eventually, they might find some sort of comfortable life with one another as something else. She wasn't going to get her hopes up, however, he was just recently widowed and it wasn't the right time, but when he was ready, she wanted to let him know that she wasn't going anywhere.
She was wearing one of the rings that someone had gotten her after the whole William Lewis ordeal that spun around her finger when she ran her thumb along the band. This specific ring had different textures to it, and she felt that's what made it special, because the different texture against her thumb was oddly relaxing, and she was amused with how spinning a ring on your finger could help you focus and keep you grounded.
She reached forward and grabbed the hot mug and pulled it closer to her, lifting it to take a sip. Just as she had sat it back down onto the coaster, she looked around her apartment.
It had become a home in the years since she'd moved in. The shelves with books on them, the photos of her and Noah, and the photos of her friends were littered throughout. Noah's toys had eventually found their way into his room, rather than all over the living room. Despite everything she'd been put through, she'd managed to grow and flourish in the years since Lewis.
One of her favorite photos on the bookshelf was a duplicate of the one in her office at the 16th Precinct. She was standing next to former Vice President…now he was the President, and it blew her mind that she'd managed to do something that caught the attention of the people running the country at the time.
She'd survived and learned to thrive.
Yet, she knew there was always someone missing from all the most important moments. Someone missing from all the promotion ceremonies, someone missing from Noah's baptism. Someone missing from her life. She couldn't get back the years, but maybe she could hope that they'd both find the courage to heal and they could all make some new memories to add to the ones she had collected through the years without him.
She only hoped that he wouldn't give her the same looks that everyone at the precinct had given her when she returned from the whole ordeal, like she was a victim. But then, she realized there was no way he would look at her like a victim. If anything, he would see her for what she was – a fearless warrior.
It was after she smiled to herself that there was a knock on her front door. Placing her hands on the edge of the glass table, she stood and walked to the door with her bare feet moving over the soft carpet. She stood on her tip-toes, looking through the peep hole and saw him, facing away from the door. She took a moment to steady herself by resting her head against the back of the door, and slowly, she reached over to unlock the door and gently opened it. Before she could react, he'd spun around and crushed her into the tightest hug she'd ever received.
"El, you're crushing my ribs." She managed to rasp out. He let go of her and looked down into her brown eyes, and she suddenly felt that familiar feeling of being submerged in water. She couldn't quite get a read on the expression on his face, but the moment she'd said 'El' he had let out a content sigh, it was like coming home.
"Take off your shoes, please." She motioned to the spot next to the door where shoes were sitting on a plastic mat as she closed and locked the door. Elliot just nodded as he untied them and took them off, placing his dress shoes next to a pair of her sneakers. "Would you like something to drink?"
"What do you have?" He asked her, as she held her hand out and he took off his outer jacket, she hung it on the coatrack in the entry hall. He hadn't even changed out of his suit that he had been wearing at their session earlier in the evening.
"I have lots of things to drink." She walked into the kitchen, and he followed her, looking at the photos on her shelves and walls as they went. She couldn't help but smile to herself when she realized what he was doing. He had decided to lean against the counter as she opened the fridge. "Have you eaten?" She asked, looking over her shoulder meeting his eyes.
"No. Lizzie and Katie wanted me to go to dinner with them, but I told them I had other plans." He had crossed his arms over his chest and was watching as she was pulling a container out of the fridge to heat up for him, "How do you do it?" He asked, his tone inquisitive. Olivia was glad he hadn't looked at her with anything other than awe since walking into her apartment.
"How do I do what?" She repeated his question, confused, as she pulled down a plate and moved a piece of lasagna from the Tupperware onto the plate so she could reheat it for him.
"Balance everything so beautifully? Olivia, I had no idea what you'd been through. How do you deal with the loss, the grief?" She had put the plate in the microwave and covered it with the plate cover so it didn't splatter all over the inside of her appliance. "You hold yourself in a way that no one would ever suspect what you're dealing with."
"I'm a good cop, El." She turned around, facing him again, "Just so you know, everyone copes differently with grief and loss. There's no one way to do it. You just have to be grateful for the time you got with the person you're grieving and remember all the best times, forget the bad ones, and never stop telling stories about them."
She thought about the grief she'd felt when Cragen had told her that Elliot wasn't coming back. She'd locked herself in one of the interrogation rooms and had a meltdown. She'd eventually tell him about this day, but right now, she didn't want to focus on that, so she took a deep breath and added something that Noah had told her when he was doing a book report on Egypt, "Did you know the Egyptians believed that we die two deaths? The first when our heart stops beating and the second the is the moment someone says our name for the last time. Isn't that kind of poetic? Did you decide what you wanted to drink?"
He was watching her, a million things going through his mind from her letter, and then she throws out the fact about Egypt and he can't believe how completely and totally smitten with her he really is, "Uh," he looked around her kitchen, "Could I just have a cold water bottle?" He asked, trying to absorb the information she'd just given him while reeling with the thoughts inside of his own mind.
The microwave went off and she grabbed the pot holder so she didn't burn her hand as she took it out. She then reopened the fridge and took out a water bottle and walked over to the table where her own tea was sitting. She placed the plate down and the water bottle and turned to look up at him as she slid into her own seat. "Well, have a seat, eat."
He looked at the bookshelf behind where she had placed his plate and saw the photo of her with – "Liv- is that you with the President?"
"He was the Vice President at the time." She answered, taking a sip of her tea, like it was no big deal. He suddenly felt a sense of pride in his old partner. "Are you going to sit down? El, your lasagna is getting cold again."
He took a seat at the table and allowed their knees to touch underneath, as she rested her left hand on the surface of the table, her right cupping her mug. He unfastened his shirt sleeves and rolled them up to his elbow so he didn't get any sauce on the cuffs. She watched as he rolled them up, a small smirk on her lips. She'd not put any makeup on after her shower and her hair was air drying. She started playing with the ring again, her nerves raw under the surface.
Elliot took a bite of the lasagna and then looked at Olivia, nodding. "This is delicious, Liv." A small curve started to turn up at the corner of her lips.
"I'll be sure to let Noah and Lucy know you approve of their lasagna." She smiled at him, a smile similar to the one they'd shared at Organized Crime earlier in the week. "They like to make me dinner when I'm stuck working late nights, I come home to a nice dish in the fridge with a note from Noah on it and Lucy tells me he suggested making it. Sometimes I question who the parent is."
"Kids are good like that." Elliot admits, thankful for the light conversation over the heavy one they will no doubt have when he's finished his square of lasagna. "Sometimes, I think Maureen feels like she's my mother. She takes my laundry and does it and returns it to me. Meanwhile, Kathleen makes sure I have groceries and drinks in my fridge." He's amazed at how easily this conversation is going, in comparison to the ones they'd been having lately.
"Kathleen also made sure you got help by going to therapy." Olivia smiled as she took a sip of her tea. "By threatening to toss you out of your own family. Then she talks to me about how to keep you going," she winks at Elliot who sits back in the chair, surveying Olivia curiously. "She's proud of the work you're doing. I'm proud of the work you're putting in."
"I think we're both doing our best, Liv. Are my children conspiring against me with you, Olivia Benson?"
"So what if they are, Elliot? I'm a good mom, you said so yourself. And they think you could use some heavy mothering at the moment. I think what you need is a good ass kicking from someone that doesn't mean to kill you."
"Cheeky." He responded, taking a sip of his water. "Where do you want the plate?" He stood and walked into the kitchen, holding the empty plate.
"Just put it in the sink, I'll put it in the dishwasher in the morning." She answers, smiling at him as he put the plate into the sink. When he comes back to the table, he leans back in his chair, really looking at Olivia for the first time. "What?" she asks.
"Is that my shirt?" He asks, nodding toward Olivia with his chin, looking at the navy blue NYPD t-shirt.
"No. It's been mine for twelve years." She answers, her right brow cocked. "It might've been your shirt thirteen years ago, but it's been mine for twelve years."
He let the words hang in the air for a few minutes as he studied the woman adjacent to him. She looked tired. "Look, about the whole Angela thing. It meant – " he began, but caught her eyes and her expression was one that clearly read that she didn't want to discuss anything about it, she pursed her lips together and was slightly shaking her head, her hands were in her lap underneath the table and he could see she was fidgeting with the ring on her thumb.
"El, you're grieving. I'm not going to tell you I'm happy that it happened…But I can't control who or what you do or don't do."
"If I had known – "
"Known what? Come on, are you being serious right now? How could you not know?" She actually felt offended that he was saying he didn't know how she felt. "You are so dense sometimes, Elliot Stabler. I think everyone in the bullpen knew, which is why they used to gossip about things that weren't true because I would have never in a million years done anything like that to jeopardize your honor or marriage vows. No matter how much I wanted to."
"At least you don't tell me I terrify you." he mumbled almost incoherently.
"You could never terrify me. Why? Who said that to you?" Olivia asked and then instantly regretted the question as he gave her a look. "No shit?" She balked at his admission, shaking her head, "Wow. I'm sorry. That's pretty ballsy, if you ask me. But I guess it was for the best." she reaches her hand out and places it over the top of his on the table. "Guilty conscience and all that, right?" she was staring into his eyes, straight into his soul.
"Liv – I really am sorry for being such a dumbass."
"No one said you were a dumbass; I believe I called you a jackass at the bottom of my letter. So, that's you calling yourself a dumbass…and if we're going to go with that, then yeah. You've always been my dumbass jackass partner. Keep apologizing and eventually I might forgive you." Olivia answered, "How are you sleeping?" She asked, changing the subject.
"I'm trying." He answered, "I'm honestly and truthfully trying to get more sleep. I've tried sleeping with the light on, I've tried exercising before bed, I've tried distractions like the television, I've tried the sleeping in chunks thing with the three hours and then awake, exercise, sleep schedule."
"It takes time, El. You have to be patient with yourself and forgiving, even. Maybe go see Father Hogan to confess your guilt, since you obviously have a healthy dose of Catholic guilt. Trust me, I have learned all about that working with Sonny Carisi." She nodded, her eyes looking at him the same way they had looked at him the other day when she was leaning against the wall. They were full of warmth and understanding, kindness, and patience. And there was something else he saw deep inside of them and for the first time, he actually paid attention. She was in love with him, and there was no changing her mind. He'd known that determined and serious gaze better than anyone else could have ever attempted to understand.
"How do you sleep?" He asked, curious to hear her response to the same question.
"I don't sleep in the complete darkness. I absolutely cannot sleep in absolute darkness. I actually have a night light, like a little child. I also have a fan that I turn on because of the white noise. Sometimes I lay there, staring at the ceiling all night, waiting on someone to call my phone with a case." she hesitated for a moment, tangling her fingers in between his on the table, "But, some nights, I have a glass of wine and sleep like a baby." She laughed. And then, she stopped in the middle of the laugh and her face went neutral as she looked into Elliot's eyes again. "You know, you really fucked me up." She stood up and was pacing back and forth behind her chair.
"Olivia, would it be easier if we sat on the couch?"
"No, this is fine. Just give me a minute."
"Olivia, wait." He stood up, and she was inches away from him. "Thank you, for trusting me with your story." He looked down into her eyes as she looked up into his. "I wanted to tell you that I admire your strength and courage and I'm so fucking proud of the woman you've become in spite of what that sadistic asshole did. Look at all you've accomplished. You have a photo with the President, you're a Captain, you're a mom." He smiled at the last part of the sentence and placed his hands on her biceps. "You obviously have gained a close knit group of friends – "
"They're my squad, but they're also my family."
"And I couldn't be any prouder of you than I am now." He pulled her close to him. "I'm not going anywhere ever again."
"How can you be so sure?" Olivia asked, searching his eyes for answers, their chests almost touching. The space was dwindling by the minute.
"I told you, I heard your voice, and now I can't leave, not again. I think it would destroy me."
"I don't want to stay away from you. I can't stay away from you, Elliot, it's like you're a black hole and I can't explain it. It just keeps pulling me in your direction and I don't care what anyone at 1PP says. They can't control my personal life. What they don't know won't kill them." She whispers, her eyes searching his face for a hint of hesitation. His hand wrapped around hers and pulled it close to his chest, right over his heart. This was becoming a normal thing, this hand holding – not that she was going to complain. He wasn't going to complain either.
"I don't know what I'm doing here, Liv." Elliot quietly whispered against her hair. "I've always known the direction of my life, the path I had to take, and for the first time I feel lost in the woods."
She was the one to pull back this time, looking up at him. She had so many things she wanted to talk to him about tonight, and she had been prepared for the conversation to revolve around her letter, but they weren't talking about what she'd prepared herself for. No, this was something else. "You don't have to be lost, Elliot. I can walk with you. But like I told you, we both have to work on ourselves, on coming to terms with what happened and accepting that it happened and moving on."
"I really am sorry that I wasn't there for you, Olivia." he whispers. "I wouldn't have let you – "
"I know." She answers.
"I would've called you, I would've come over to check on you – "
"Elliot, I know."
"It's my fault." It was with this acceptance of guilt that he broke. And she had been waiting on it. She'd been counting on him to reach that conclusion. For the longest time, she had blamed him as well, she'd thought about how Brian had failed her by not checking on his girlfriend, how he should've sent someone to check on her when she didn't return his calls. She'd thought about how Nick had failed her in those first few days because he was preoccupied with other things, and hadn't spared her another thought. Even though Nick had known that the case was bothering her.
Somewhere along the way, she had accepted that hers and Elliot's threads that had been so interwoven had started to fray, and it was because of that stray thread that things happened the way they happened. She couldn't blame him for the things he couldn't have known or controlled. So, she took a step back and placed her hands on either side of his face, tilting his head so that she could see his eyes. Those eyes that unnerved her on so many levels because they had the ability to peel back her layers and expose her for the raw mess she was. "It's not your fault. Do you understand what I'm saying? You weren't there because you had made the decision to walk away years before – I know that if you were still around during all this it wouldn't have happened, but you can't blame yourself for this, do you understand me? Some things you cannot change, Elliot. No matter how much you want to. You might now have been there in the flesh, but I told you, it was your voice that pulled me through."
Her voice found its strength as she continued on, the next words punctuated the air in a way that neither of them would ever forget. "YOU do not get to take the blame for this. You had told me that you couldn't be constantly looking over your shoulder to make sure I was okay. You told me you needed to know I could do my job and not wait for you to come to the rescue." She allowed her eyes to burn into his, as she brought their foreheads together, "I fucking saved myself because you didn't come to the rescue. So allow me to fucking save you just this once."