A/N: I recognize the promo is probably BS and nothing in the following will look anything remotely like what will happen. But I needed to work through the angst of waiting a week for what's in that promo, so I just don't care :)
No promises on continuing this. I'm going to rely on Ilene for that!
Elliot braces a hand against the doorframe, his head bowed as he pounds her door. Her eyes are wide when the door swings open. "Elliot," voice breathless, she looks like how he feels, heart in his throat.
"Noah's asleep." She casts her eyes into her apartment and turns back to him.
"Sorry, Liv." Sorry for too many things.
It shouldn't be enough, but she steps back, allows him inside. He hovers near the door as she walks into the recesses of her apartment and he can hear her quietly shutting the door to her son's room. The son he still hasn't met, and he knows he still hasn't earned the right.
When she returns she stands across the length of the living room and looks at him. "What are you doing here?"
Three months earlier
One glass of wine had led to two glasses of champagne and she didn't think either of them were all that tipsy. But she must be wrong, because he grabs her hand, pulls the coat off her shoulders and spins her onto the dancefloor. She laughs in surprise, a giddy, light thing. A sound foreign to her own ears.
He tugs her and suddenly they're face to face, their hands clasped behind her back, his arm nestled into her waist. Elliot's grinning and it pulls an automatic response from her lips.
This evening was nothing like she'd imagined. Fin and Phoebe's non-wedding, Garland's health issues, Elliot showing up when she thought he'd bail.
He pushes her away, then pulls her back, their clasped hands against his chest, his free hand pressing into the small of her back.
The earlier coolness of the night is vanquished by the heat flooding her body.
"Are you having fun?" His voice sounds husky, flirtatious.
She exhales a breath of air, "Seems like you are." Evasive as always, she thinks.
"Did I tell you how beautiful you look?"
Isn't it just what she's always wanted? But now that she's here and he's saying these things, she can only acknowledge her discomfort. Olivia smiles, shakes her head. "Carisi left ages ago. I'm supposed to be at the meeting." She pulls back a little and he lets her.
"You ok to drive?" He ducks his head and she lifts her eyes to him. If she wasn't before, she feels really sober now. The fear of being close to him blotting out the excitement she'd been feeling only moments before.
"Yeah," She untangles her hand from his, rubs a finger against her temple. "I should...call it a night."
He tilts his head slightly, then nods. She steps towards the table where they'd left her purse and jacket and he follows. He continues in her wake as they say goodnight and she ignores the look Fin gives her as they depart.
At her car he stops her. "I'm going to give you a call."
She raises her eyebrows in question and he continues. "Since we've both had a drink. We can keep tabs on each other."
She almost quips about him not wanting the night to end, but then again part of her wants to stay here with him and forget that meeting. Instead she nods, pulls out her phone and waits as he calls her.
He nods, satisfied, once she answers and then waits for her to get in her car. She settles the flower arrangement in the passenger seat as she watches him walk away. She'd always liked his walk.
Now
"Your ankle is better?"
He watches her frown at him. "You came in the middle of the night to ask about my ankle?" Her tone is neutral and that's what gives her away.
"I know it's been a tough couple of days with the case, the task force." He pivots.
He watches her take a heaving breath. "Why are you here, Elliot?"
Three months earlier
Olivia wakes in the emergency room.
"Liv." He sounds relieved and she blinks at him, her eyes adjusting to the bright lights, her aching head. For a moment she thinks she's hallucinating again. "Hey." His hand covers hers and she rubs her eyes. But when she looks back, it's still him.
"Elliot?"
"Yeah. Hold on, I'll get the doctor."
She watches him walk away, his gait unmistakable.
"What happened?" He asks when he turns back to her. "I heard the crash but then the phone cut out."
She shakes her head, "They pushed me off the road. I hit some rocks and then...I don't know. How did you find me?"
"I called Fin and he and Phoebe followed your route and found the accident. They told me where you'd been taken. They said they were going to check on Noah and his sitter before they went home. Said something about letting Carisi know too."
She watches Elliot rub his hand over his face. "Liv, I think it was Wheatley who had you run off the road."
"What? Why?"
"You heard him that day. He knows…" His gaze locks onto hers and part of her wants desperately for him to finish the sentence, tell her exactly what it is that Wheatley knows. But she's not ready for it, no matter what it is and instead looks away.
"He got you to the hospital, he ran you off the road. I just...need you to be extra careful." She looks down at her hand enveloped in both of his and nods slowly. His hands squeeze around her and she gently pulls away.
Liv tries to sit up and the movement jostles her ankle and she cries out, softly.
"Careful," Elliot's hands press down on hers again, as if to still her. She looks down at her foot and sees the swelling and groans her disapproval.
"I don't have time for this," she mutters and hears Elliot laugh softly.
He helps her out of his car a few hours later. "I wish you'd let them take a look at it."
"You heard the doctor. I can't sit around there for another 3 hours."
He shakes his head, but hands her the crutches. "I'm walking you up."
"No! No…" Liv sighs. "Noah's up there. He'll be awake."
She watches him frown but he nods reluctantly and she hobbles off.
Now
He looks at the line of Liv's mouth and knows exactly how unhappy she is with him. Elliot wanders a bit further into her home, his eyes leaving her so he can look at the pictures on her walls, the scattered papers on her coffee table where she'd been working. He wants to take in the aspects of her life that he's missed. All the things he still isn't aware of even months since he returned to her. But mostly, he can't bring himself to look at the anger embedded in her eyes.
"Elliot." Her voice is firmer now, taut.
"The letter. I want to talk."
Three months earlier
"Hey," Liv answers her cell. "I just got done with IAB."
"How'd it go?" She hears his voice across the line.
"Fine. Is Sergeant Bell getting any flak?"
"No, no. It looks like she's in the clear. Listen-" She hears him take a weary breath. "I'm going UC."
"Oh." Liv can't help the lift of her eyebrows. Her jaw moves as she discards questions and concerns and wonders what to say. Elliot speaks again and she stops searching for words.
"It's not deep. But I'm not sure how long I'll be gone." As her silence stretches he continues on. "I can call...if you want."
She frowns and stutters. "Well, is that what you want?"
"Liv…"
"You're the one taking off." She gripes, although it seems unfair in some ways, she still blames him.
"I'm not taking off." He sounds irritated but she figures he hasn't earned the right.
"Well, if you want to talk, you know where to reach me." The words are meant to sound neutral, open to interpretation. But when she speaks them she's too angry, and it shows.
"Liv…"
"I have to go."
She hears him sigh softly, "Ok."
And then instead of asking him to be careful or telling him she'll be thinking of him, she just hangs up. For a little while it feels good. To draw a line in the sand. To decide she won't be the one waiting around, like she did for far too long. But she keeps expecting him to call. And so as the days turn to weeks and the weeks turn to months, all she has is a growing concern that she doesn't want to be responsible for. All she's left holding is the question of when she'll speak to him again. It's the last ten years all over again and she's done with it.
Now
"The letter. I want to talk." He turns to look at her, sees her frown, shake her head. So reminiscent of the last time he said something she wasn't ready for.
"I have nothing to say about that." She whispers.
He steps forward again. "I meant to call."
She closes her eyes, laughs harshly. "Like you meant to call before?"
"I'm sorry."
"So I'm supposed to forgive you?" She crosses her arms over her chest.
"No, you're not supposed to do anything." He sees the tears brimming in her eyes, but she gets them under control before she allows herself to speak.
"Why now? Why do you want to talk now?"
"I've had a lot of time to think. A lot of time alone. That always means I'm thinking of you." He grins and grimaces, scratching at his bearded chin. "You wanted to talk about it before."
"Months ago." Olivia frowns. "And then you brushed me off. Maybe that was ok for a bit. There was a lot happening. It still hasn't been long since Kathy. But you wrote those words, Elliot. You gave me that letter. So you can't expect me to wait around forever."
"Is that what you think I was doing? Asking you to wait for me?" He steps closer again, the space between them a few feet.
"I have no idea. You said you left-" She looks away from him again and this time the teardrop spills over, slides down her cheek.
"I left because my feelings for you were too strong."
Her eyes dart back to him, as if to look for an indication of veracity. He thinks about repeating the words from the intervention, words he didn't quite say in the letter.
"My feelings for you have never changed. They've been there from day one. They stayed with me every moment I was gone."
"So you ran away then, and you ran away now." Her tone is accusatory and he flinches.
"I didn't run-"
"Three months you were gone. Not a word. No indication that you were ok. You left me hanging, again. Ten years I waited for anything from you and even after I told you how much that hurt, you just leave again? You don't reach out?"
"It didn't seem like you wanted me to," Elliot tries to argue.
"Of course I did. You have no right to be, but you're still important to me." He sees the regret cross her face as soon as she allows herself to admit this to him.
"I'm sorry, Liv. For everything." He steps closer, closing the distance finally. He looks down at her, barefooted, and she seems so vulnerable. When her eyes rise to meet his, he can see the pain he's inflicted. That's when he recognizes the tears falling from his eyes, the fear that he'll never be able to make things right between them.
His body curls around hers and then he sinks down in front of her. His arms and hands gliding down until they're wrapped around her waist. He presses his mouth against her stomach, his head pillowing between her breasts. "I need you."
Her body bends towards his, the weight of him, the weight of their history, bearing her into his gravity.
He reaches up, his head turning as his hand lifts. His thumb brushes her cheek, his fingers tangle into her hair. He looks up and sees her tilt her head down.
"No." She whispers. "No. I can't."
She wants to stay aloof, detached, removed. She wants to shut down her emotions and his. She wants to kick him out and shut the door and never look back. All of this is impossible. Which is exactly why she must do it.
"I can't," She repeats as she disentangles her body from his. Olivia steps back as Elliot sits on his heels, looking up at her.
"Liv, please."
"No." She says again, shaking her head. "You need to leave."
Elliot closes his eyes, furrows his brow. When he looks back at her, she is unrelenting. So he gives. Stands and nods at her. "I won't give up." He promises her. He promises himself. And then he turns, and leaves.
Olivia waits until the door closes behind him before she allows the sob to escape her throat.