V:

Stabler had been gone when Rafael had finished with the doctors, and wasn't that just an interesting development? Liv was anything but her normal imposing, intimidating, indomitable self as she lay in the hospital bed, hooked up to a few different monitors and the IV station, pale and drawn, her freckles standing out in stark contrast to her complexion. Her eyelids opened and she looked at Rafael wearily. "Hey," she murmured.

"Hey yourself," Rafael said, sitting down at her bedside. "You're on bedrest another six hours, so don't move around too much. If you need to go to the bathroom, I've been briefed on bedpan usage or we can page a nurse if you aren't comfortable –"

"Rafa, calm down," she chuckled, coughing a little. "I'm fine for now."

"You want some water?"

"Rafa, I'm fine," she repeated. "Are you okay?"

It was all he could do not to get up and pace the room, but he stayed put for her sake. "Not really," he admitted.

Raw pain crossed her face, and she whispered, "I'm sorry – Raf –"

"No, Liv," he interjected, cutting her off quickly, "don't blame yourself. I'm just… I need to call my mother and check on her and Noah. Do you want to talk to him?"

"I don't want him to see me like this," she said.

Rafael nodded and swallowed hard. "Well, then, I'll need to take some time off work to help Lucy until you're up and around again," he said. "I haven't been working on anything since I won against Patterson in Brooklyn last week, so… it should be doable." He ran his hands over his thighs, digging his fingers into his jeans, biting his lip. "Liv, I… I think I should back off my weekends with Noah when you're feeling better," he said abruptly, hating the way saying the words made him feel.

He had come to love Noah like a son – like he'd like to have loved his own child, should he have had one – and it still terrified him. But even moreso, the idea of losing the boy to Stabler when he married Olivia ate away at him like nothing else. He would rather cut ties now and take the self-inflicted torture than suffer farther down the road.

"Why would you say that?" she asked, her voice very small and hurt.

"Because he needs to spend more time with you," Rafael lied smoothly – or he hoped to god it was smoothly, because his heart was beating out of his chest and he was practically vibrating with anxiety. He just wanted it all to be over: his best friend was going to marry a Neanderthal with a gun and he was going to be left holding a cup of coffee with a sick smile on his lips because what else could he do? "Anyway – let me go make that call and –"

Her hand shot out and wrapped around his forearm, nails digging into his skin. "Don't leave me," Liv croaked.

The fear radiating off of her was enough to hold him back. "I'm not going anywhere," Rafael promised, covering her hand gently with his own, careful not to jam the needle from her IV deeper into her vein. "Are you in any pain, Liv?"

"Only what isn't killing me," she joked. "Rafa, I'm fine – really, I'm okay."

He sighed heavily. "You don't take care of yourself," he muttered, "you, stubborn, stubborn woman." The words had escaped his lips before he could stuff them back into their box and lock them away, the frustration, worry, and possessive pain he felt toward her clawing up to the surface and peering out before he could stomp it back down and pretend that he was content with a thin veneer of friendship.

She was silent, staring at him with wide eyes. "Rafael," Olivia finally said softly, "I'm sorry I ever put you in this position –"

"No, don't be," he threw out quickly, shaking his head. "This is what friends do, Liv."

"Is it?"

He paused, lifted his gaze, met hers head on, and lied to her face as only a lawyer could. "Yes."

She didn't really seem to believe him, but that was her right, just as it was his right to obfuscate the truth – even just a little bit, to save them both the pain and heartbreak.

It wasn't until later when she was vaguely taking her first shuffling steps around the room, leaning on him heavily and struggling from the effort that she mumbled, "I broke it off with Elliot."

"What? When?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, if you were under the influence of –"

"Rafa, I was as clear-headed as I've ever been," Liv sighed tiredly.

He was too tired to jump for joy or even outwardly react, but inwardly, he was screaming. But so was his inner lawyer. And it wasn't pretty. But he kept all his thoughts to himself, letting her process the death of her relationship by herself. "Liv… can I ask you something?" he finally said.

"Yeah, but I need to lie down," she croaked.

It took a couple of minutes to get her back into bed, settled, and then he took a deep breath. "I know this is going to sound like I'm trying to undermine everything that you do, and it's not meant to be that way –"

"You want me to quit," Liv said, her voice quiet and hollow.

"No," Rafael said, shaking his head. "I was going to ask if you had ever considered an exit strategy – a strategic shuffling of the department, grooming your successor, hand-picking your replacement, and planning your retirement in a manner of your choosing." Preferably before some idiot offs you. "I know… I know the idea is daunting, that change is big and scary and that the unknown life after is, quite frankly, utterly terrifying, but, Liv, don't you think you've done your due diligence? You've changed so many lives for the better: so many lives, mine included. And you have so much more you can do, so many more things you can do if you only stay alive." His hand was shaking, absolutely quaking, as he brought it up to touch her cheek, and the feel of her skin beneath his did nothing to assuage the anxiety that simmered below the surface of the calm he was trying to project. "I don't want to live in a world without Olivia Benson in it."

She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes. "I love you, too," was all she said, her voice gruff with quiet emotion.

It took time but things went back to some semblance of normal, with Liv back to work and Rafael back to a normal caseload, trying not to eye his phone with suspicion that it would be the hospital or one of her squad calling with bad news. During her recovery, they spent so much time together that now that they were apart, he felt like an entire chunk of his life was missing.

He stood, poised on her doorstep, unsure of the proper protocol now: if three months down the line from her release from the hospital, he should be using his key or if he should still be knocking to pick up Noah for his weekend. He was saved by the door opening and Noah's grinning face appearing. "Uncle Rafa!"

"Hola, amigo," Rafael greeted. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah – Mom's making dinner."

"I thought we were going to go get something," Rafael said, "like all the other times –"

"Mom decided to make something," Noah said with a shrug.

Rafael's brow creased. He looked at his watch. "What is your mom doing home, anyway? Shouldn't she be at work?"

"I dunno – she got me at school and she dropped me off this morning," Noah said. "Come in, Uncle Rafa – she's making chicken spaghetti."

Rafael wrinkled his nose: Liv's chicken spaghetti was not his favorite, but Noah loved it, so he endured it for the boy's sake. One of these days, he intended to teach her how to cook some real food – real, honest to god food that stuck to the ribs and fed body and soul. But it felt like a step too far into the intimacy of her domain, a step too far into that fluid state between wanting and having everything he desired so much.

But he followed Noah inside.

Liv was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the casserole before it went into the oven. She looked up and smiled a little to see him, and said, "Don't worry, there's a salad and apple tarts for dessert."

"Thank god," he joked, smiling a little. "We normally get take-out on the way back to mine."

"I know, but I thought I should feed you two before you head off," she replied cheerfully. "How was work?"

"Oh, I'm on the diRaffio case, so I can't really talk about it much –"

She shrugged. "They can call me to testify but I don't really have much bearing on the case after the initial intake interview," she replied. "Seeing how I retired yesterday and all."

Raphael's hand slipped off the edge of the counter and his balance slipped as well; he nearly hit the floor, but he caught himself in time, righting his balance and staring at her blankly. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I retired, Counselor – or didn't that juicy bit get around yet?" Olivia asked, smiling a little, rather smugly.

"This is the first I'm hearing of it," he stammered. "Why – Liv, why didn't you tell me?"

"What does retired mean?" Noah asked.

"It means your mom doesn't work for the police anymore," Rafael said quickly. "Liv?"

"Fin is covering for the next few months while Rollins finishes her exams, then he's retiring as well," Liv explained gently. "We've both had good innings and we're done, Raf, that's all. My rotator cuff's jacked up and I could barely pass my firearms test. It was just time." Her smile turned sad and she shrugged. "Thought you'd be happy I'm around more."

He paused, then grinned. "I think I will be now I've gotten over the shock of hearing the words Benson and retired in the same sentence."

She punched him in the shoulder. "Think you can have Noah two weekends a month now?"

He thought about it for a second, then countered, "Think you can stop it with the chicken spaghetti?"

Olivia laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "My retirement party is tomorrow night: are you coming?"

His eyes were shining as he looked at the woman he loved, a pang of bittersweet pain blooming in his chest as he quelled the urge to tell her just how much he cared. "Of course, Liv. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

The status quo was theirs, and he would hold the line. Change was big and scary and until she was ready to face it, he wasn't going to push her headlong into the abyss. That wasn't their way.

All he had ever wanted was to be loved by Liv, and the soft sounds of laughter in her kitchen and gentle happiness would have to suffice.