Chapter Six: Undone

Title: Oblivion

Rating: M

Category: AU/Thriller/Angst/Hurt & Comfort/UST/RST/Pre and Post "Infiltrated"

Summary: Olivia may have uncovered a few segments of reality but it left the wounds gaping for a second time as being in Elliot's orbit became an unhealthy mixture of intoxication and codependency…a sensation she both feared and craved.

"I got lost in him, and it was the kind of lost that's exactly like being found." -Claire LaZebnik

Note: I did a fair amount of research on the way that memories can return after a head injury; memory recovery isn't exact. It doesn't have the freedom to pick or choose the perfect time to return. It's messy and flows more like a river with ample bends and rocks in its way. Some things might be quick while others are not. For this fic, bear with the uniqueness of Olivia's personality. The majority of her personality is stuck in her early 20s (just before joining the police force). This chapter will venture into some of the pieces of a version of Olivia we never got to see. The one that might not have been the most confident and might have blamed herself. The pieces will begin to fit.

And I've been a fool and I've been blind

I can never leave the past behind

I can see no way, I can see no way

I'm always dragging that horse around

-Paul Epworth, Tom Hull, & Florence Welch

I want a new partner.

Olivia crumbled and banged her uninjured forearm against the toilet seat, vomiting for a second time. Regression had done the trick and opened the floodgates. It worked a little too well and her head was still swimming as she reached for the handle while she reestablished balance. She wanted to believe that it wasn't real, that a warped sense of need had concocted it all, but she knew that it was all but certain. Olivia had walked out on her job, her life, her partner, and fell directly into the living hell that had her wearing a sling. She'd inadvertently caused her demise and the sensation had her stuck for the second time even with clarity making its appearance.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be easier. Smoother. Less detrimental to her psyche. Unincumbered by the jagged edges that had set her life spiraling down the nearest drain. Olivia's back met the cool finish of the wall and the air went out of her lungs while the dread set in. Facing Elliot Stabler would be like walking through a banquet hall naked; embarrassing didn't go far enough. Just imagining the look on his face had her petrified and she didn't even know if he felt a thing on her behalf.

Perhaps, only the second-hand embarrassment; something she was becoming familiar with.

"How could I be so stupid? It's ridiculous. I'm ridiculous," Olivia tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling, blinking slowly while the dizziness began to fade between flashes of Elliot's gold band that she couldn't help but notice in every memory. "He pities you. He'd rather be home with his kids…and his wife."

The swirling of sickness wasn't out of any lingering trauma and Olivia was grappling with it as she staggered to the sink. She remembered far more than she had realized and the circles in the sand were undulating, rippling back and forth until they resembled the growing mess unfolding in her subconsciousness. Every face, name, date, began to shift and slip along a deep crevasse and Olivia didn't know how to get them to stop long enough to push them into place. Huang had done one thing by leading Olivia into recollection, though, and it was that what sent her away was so much more than a growing rift with Elliot. Olivia had fallen in love with her partner and couldn't face down that demon every single day.

It was too much to bear so Olivia ran; predicament cause and effect.

She had gotten a little too good at running from the truth.

"Fuck!" Olivia kicked the garbage can and groaned as it banged against the wall, knowing that her voice was louder than anticipated. "It might've been better if I had just…left it alone."

"Hey, Liv," Elliot's voice nearly made her jump right out of her skin as she splashed her face with cool water and let the tap run. "…you okay? I know it's an odd time to ask, but do you need anything?"

Olivia swallowed hard and the vision of him hovering over her, distressed and overwrought while chaos unfolded around them, flashed into her forethoughts once more. The visual tore through her, sucked the air from her lungs, and nearly took her to the floor for a second time. She wasn't fine. She didn't know if she ever would be. Being in his orbit had unfurled another mystery and knowing that the upheaval had begun long before the fall only elicited another layer of confusion in Olivia's gut. Her eyes followed the lines of the tile until they reached the door as her knuckles slowly went white against the porcelain.

Answering Elliot might require another lie or at least the bending of a truth.

Olivia sighed at the reality that she had gotten all too comfortable skewing the truth.

"I'm fine," Olivia splashed herself another time, desperate to believe it, and turned the water off before tearing a paper towel from the feeder. "…just…need another minute in here. I'll be fine."

"Liv, it's okay to not be okay," Elliot's voice had been the equalizer, the key to her undoing, and yet, nothing pulled her from the reaches of the dark faster than hearing every syllable from the other side of the door. "Letting me help you through this isn't about being weak or admitting some kind of weakness, I hope you get that—I need you to know that."

Olivia wanted to let it sink in but her concept of reality had become foggy, twisted, and the sensation swirling through her stomach was akin to being stuck on a tilt-o-whirl with no one at the control. It was suffocating and disorienting as her fingers fanned out across the dingy edge of the sink, reflection in her peripheral. A vision of pain. A reminder of confusion. A glimmer of something deeper, though, as the color in her cheeks returned. The mnemonic might've felt nice on any other day but the response was something else entirely. An instinctive sensation she hadn't felt in a long time.

Nerves.

Olivia Benson was nervous.

Olivia grasped the handle and opened the door, putting on the bravest face she could muster as she watched Elliot's features twitch, sending another pang of restlessness through her limbs. "Having anything come back to hit me all at once and was a little more disorienting than I anticipated it would be."

It might not have been a complete lie but it was enough of one that Elliot was able to catch Olivia's twitch of a tell with the modest shift of her brow. Assuring her that she was safe with him was at the front of his mental processes but the words stayed put. The reality was that he didn't know how to say it to this incarnation of his partner. Elliot wasn't entirely aware of how much of the Olivia he knew had returned; risking progress wasn't something he was willing to do. The smile was sincere but tight as she rubbed the bandages, itching the tender wounds beneath, tearing her eyes away from him for long enough to gather her bearings.

Long enough to feel fully steady on her feet again.

"I should've told Huang to slow down," Elliot wanted to tell her that he regretted it but he saw a light in her eyes that hadn't been there yet as she lifted her chin to regain contact with his gaze. "It was too soon to go that far."

"No, I needed it to happen and it filled in some gaps," Olivia swallowed hard, contemplating each word as if she'd been tiptoeing across a room full of shattered glass, avoiding the shards. "I think I need to put something in my stomach and spend a little less time fixating on the chaos going on inside my head—even if it's just for a little while."

"Anything in particular or just want to get out of here?" Elliot might've been striking every right inquiry as she kept moving into the hall, toward the elevator. "I'm game for anything that you pick."

"We both know that's a lie," Olivia found the sarcasm beneath the self-doubt and uncertainty as she did a half turn to look at him, elevating an eyebrow as he furrowed his. "If I made a futile suggestion of sushi, you'd gag and make me pick something else. We both know how you feel about raw fish and I'm not going to sit at the restaurant with you while you pick at tempura like a bird, pretending like you'll find something on the menu that doesn't gross you out."

"You remembered," Elliot held back the grin but his eyes gave him away as they lit up while he eclipsed the distance, gently nodding over the factual evidence she had just presented. "Okay, maybe I should have said almost anything. I'm still giving you the choice because your mind, as you begin to think of things that are easily recalled, is the one that should be making the decisions—not mine."

"Oh, that's spectacularly thoughtful of you," Olivia pushed his buttons once more as they reached the end of the hall and squinted to drive the point home as they waited on the elevator. "Making the person experiencing a mental haze pick the meal. Staring at a menu just long enough to induce a little panic while a waitress expectantly stares at me. This could be a disaster and you're facilitating it."

"That's a helluva guilt trip," Elliot had a smile plastered on his face as they stood inside the elevator while it made its descent. "I see the point you've made. We could go to this little place that Kathleen likes to pick out from time to time that has Italian food and pizza by the slice. Window seating. Quiet. Cozy."

"I think you'd probably could have had me sold after telling me that Kathleen usually picks it," Olivia was sputtering on the last conversation she'd had with Kathleen as it came in flashes, marred by the gaps in time that were still pulling apart at the seams. "She conned me into going to Little Italy for pizza and garlic knots before everything happened."

"She's more persuasive than she thinks she is," Elliot was caught in the middle of wanting to be happy for Olivia's clarity, and the pang of uncertainty over the unknown after-effects of the regression was still in the air. "Are you sure you're good?"

"I don't need anyone pretending as though everything is fine but I'm not made of porcelain," Olivia toed the line at the edge of appreciative and exasperated, narrowing her eyes just enough to send the subtle hint that he was tilting the axis a little too far. "I'm fine."

Avoidance had always been an Olivia Benson specialty. At least there was a little bit of consolation in knowing that part of her obstinance to rear like an untamed Mustang. It was a quality they both shared; immovability and persistence, refusing to give the other an inch. It might have been what lured Elliot back in, time after time, though. Olivia certainly knew how to keep it interesting even as her fragmented memories played tricks on her concept of reality.

"You know you don't have to keep it from me if something wasn't okay, though, right?" Elliot was the first into the main floor hall, his conscious thoughts on Olivia as she hesitated for a moment behind him.

Olivia squinted at the bright light flooding through the open door before stepping onto the sidewalk as she made eye contact with him once more. "Will you be satisfied with a yes and drop it for long enough to get a move on to the restaurant?"

"Yes," Elliot had the sedan in eyeshot, the keys already prepped in his hand. "As a matter of fact, I would be satisfied with that."

"Okay, then," Olivia knew it was a little cheeky as she let him open the door for her, taking advantage of the chivalrous act. "Sure—I know it."

That wasn't exactly the answer Elliot was looking for but he accepted it with a smirk and came around to the driver's side. Olivia was toying with him and keeping him at arm's length. It was a skill that she had gotten unusually good at. It was something he'd gotten used to. Something that managed to not leave a sour taste in his mouth even as he clicked the seatbelt into the place while she struggled with hers. He didn't offer to help, though. There was a moment of unrestrained irritation brewing from the passenger side before he finally reached over and silently pulled the belt, pushing it until there was a loud click.

His warmth radiated through the sling, unceremoniously knocking her off-balance mentally as she got caught in the crosshairs of his penetrative stare. Elliot's aftershave was unyieldingly familiar and he'd invaded Olivia's space more times than her memory would allow her to know. She knew it resonated, though, as the hairs stood on end and the goosebumps crept across her skin. It had her so distracted that she didn't even notice the audible inhale that resembled a moan. If the maneuver hadn't resembled desperation, Olivia might've leaned in just enough to extend an offer.

One that she wouldn't have been so willing to be left hanging over.

Elliot awkwardly cleared his throat with the unpleasant sound of a car horn to jolt both back to the ground, back to the overheated front seat of the sedan. "We should probably get a move on. Even my stomach is growling."

Olivia's eyes were aimed forward, through the water-spotted windshield at the passing cars as the heat flooded her cheeks while she began to nod. "You're the one behind the wheel. Turn the key."

The retort was loaded and Elliot bit back the urge to point out her visible blushing, opting to hold onto it as he turned the key. It had caught her just as unaware as it had him; left a burning desire for more. Elliot pressed his lips together, quietly contemplated her features once more, and let the ignition click while the cogs in his head were slowly turning. Risking forever on a glance didn't hold a lot of value but there was more heat in those eyes than Elliot ever knew he could earn from Olivia. They were burned into his consciousness.

They would be etched into his thoughts, unraveling him from the inside out.

The meeting

Of two personalities

Is like the contact

Of two chemical substances;

If there is any reaction,

Both are transformed.

-Carl Jung

12:30 PM

Il Corso

54 W 54th St

New York, NY

Olivia had been picking at the pasta buried beneath a mountain of cheese she'd indulged in for over twenty minutes. For Elliot, it seemed as though time was creeping by and the silence in the air was only softened by the waitress periodically checking on them. He knew how to act around the Olivia that remembered every detail with precision, as though it were written in a notebook, but this one could, despite the fuzziness, chew him up and spit him out in a blink. Elliot didn't know the Olivia that hadn't stepped foot in the precinct and it was terrifying to imagine the state of confusion. Knowing that the bitterest recollections were coming back did nothing to alleviate the growing worry, either.

"Where is your ring?" Olivia blurted the question just as Elliot's fork was poised between his lips, catching him unprepared and unaware. "I remember that you had a gold band before and now you're not wearing it. Where is it?"

Elliot finished chewing his bite and swallowed hard, uncertain of the words. "Straight to the point, huh, Liv?"

"Why waste time second-guessing if I'm only going to wind up bringing it up eventually, anyway?" Olivia was nonchalant about it as she struggled with the utensils and the sling before giving up in favor of her glass of water. "Did something happen? Do you…want to talk about it?"

"Doesn't sound like you're going to give me much of a choice in the matter," Elliot dabbed his mouth with a napkin as his brows went up, letting the consternation work through his brain as Olivia's lack of a filter translated to the unaffected expression on her face. "There's a lot to tell and I wouldn't know where to start."

"I'm not going to force you to discuss it," Olivia might've been more convincing if there had been an ounce of conviction in her voice as she hid behind the rim of her glass, letting the seconds tick by and the confidence spread through her veins. "I don't remember you being the type that concealed much from me, though. Maybe, what little has come back is already incorrect?"

That was cruel and Olivia knew it. Elliot had thought about telling her a thousand times. It wasn't as though it was keeping it from her was filled with intent but the look on her face told another story. Inquisitive, undeniably ready to press him for more information, and wound with a little too much fire. The combination spoke of familiarity and yet, circled in the uncharted waters. Elliot had only witnessed the Olivia that sought out an ember with the intent to ignite a blaze.

Being on the other side of that heat hadn't quite crossed his mind or his rationalization.

"Aimed directly at my testicles with that one, Liv," Elliot tracked a passing ambulance with the lights on, contemplating the flashes of red, blue, and stark, strobing white as they weaved through traffic and moved out of sight, giving him a moment to think. "Kathy took it back—I'm shocked she waited this long but denial is not a singular affect. She crossed that bridge before I fully realized it was happening."

"I'm sorry," Olivia couldn't tell if the look on his face was marred by sadness, guilt, or relief, but he was far away even as he found her gaze and forced a soft, reassuring smile while her fingers pushed the condensation along the side of the glass. "It seems like I've missed more than I realized. Were you hoping to work things out?"

"I don't know if it was that or if I thought it had to be fixed because that's how it is done," Elliot didn't need to pile it on but staring at Olivia's mouth wasn't helping the situation as he swallowed hard and glanced at the ailing coffee in front of his hand. "Talking about it is foreign."

Olivia didn't fully comprehend every facet of her life as fleeting images were refusing to make sense let alone become real but the man sitting across from her was made of flesh and bone; inspiring nothing short of comfort. Elliot was the only aspect of corporeality that she wasn't doubting. Elliot was solace and safety. Home. In every sense, he made her feel like she was home even if nothing else felt like it belonged. It was the only thing keeping her from throwing both hands to the sky in resignation; he was her tether to the ground.

A beacon light through the fog.

"That doesn't really answer the question," Olivia pushed a lonely crouton across her plate with her fork, chewed the inside of her cheek, and blinked while her consciousness ruthlessly subjected her to a replay of the heat between them in the car outside the precinct. "I don't think I could imagine a life where obligation or duty was more important than the things we already miss out on with a job like this. Hell, everything I already missed out on with an existence surrounding loss, hurt, and hatred. Is wanting a little happiness so bad?"

"I used to think that I wanted to salvage my marriage because the job had successfully killed passion," Elliot didn't know how to respond without coming off like a sappy, desperate man but it conveyed the depths of the rip in his soul that hadn't known peace in ages as he pushed his index along the tablecloth. "…and I thought our bond that used to be much stronger but the longer I contemplated it, the more it felt like a lie. Kathy and I only had our kids in common. The rift between us was indifference from taking off the rose-colored glasses."

"We are a couple of fucked up individuals, aren't we?" Olivia chuckled with the tilt of her glass, hesitating to drink while she let the thought continue to manifest. "Flawed, perpetually guilt-stricken, and stuck in the rut that we designed for ourselves."

"Fucked up and stubborn," Elliot amended the comment with a grin, lifting his glass as though raising a toast. "A little broken?"

"Here, here," Olivia very nearly inhaled her water and played with the edge of her napkin while letting the warmth in her cheeks subside. "I wouldn't say a little—it's a lot."

"I know I've certainly made a big enough mess of things," Elliot had not stopped to consider the weight of his marriage ending but Kathy had already taken full control of the wheel, tilting it further from a life shared, aiming it away. "Work is the only thing I have left."

"You have me," Olivia blurted it and watched his brows spring toward the ceiling as shock lit up his features, her boldness catching him unaware and softening as she undid some of the impacts. "We're partners, Elliot, that has never changed. At least, I don't think it did. I'm here."

Elliot wanted to utter it out loud that Olivia left but he could hear the hurt beneath the sincerity; her eyes betrayed her with a single glance. They'd been through hell. They'd avoided the conversation and had let it fester. It's what sent her running; it's what left her looking like a Rorschach test. No apology would have been enough in Elliot's eyes for making Olivia think she needed to leave. He'd been the purveyor of pain for far too long—and had consumed too many of his wares.

Every fiber of his being wanted nothing more than to go back and urge her not to walk away from him even if he wasn't entitled to make the request.

"I haven't forgotten," Elliot nodded and grazed the tips of her fingers with his own as they moved across the top of the table, eliciting a shiver and a bite of her lip as she held in the gasp. "It might seem like I have…"

"You don't have to prove something to me to reassure me, Elliot," Olivia was outside of herself, peering at the battered vessel that she'd become managing to sit with her spine rigid in front of him without crumbling, with a semblance of strength residing in her voice with every word. "I still don't know what happened in Oregon to rob me of my memories but there was a piece of me that understood the gravity of your face…your name…you mean something to the part of me that is still stuck in the dark. I have to believe that it matters."

"I'm always going to run through hell to have your back, though," Elliot shook his head and tossed his napkin next to the water glass, folding it away from the plate while his eyes searched her face for another sign, for hope. "Don't get that twisted."

"I need to know what happened to me in Oregon, Elliot," Olivia didn't want to keep going back to the same set of unknowns but, much like the wounds on her body, nothing had healed and time didn't feel like a solution with any sense of tangibility. "Every time I try to go back to that night, the only parts that have a second of clarity are that I only had a single beer and can smell the bourbon. Either I have lost it or something isn't right."

"You just had an impromptu regression session that might have gone on a little longer than it needed to," Elliot freed his debit card before Olivia could even think to blink to do, lifted his hand to flag their waitress down, and lingered on his words as he scrutinized the uncharacteristic fear in her eyes. "You already have more in your arsenal than you did when you went tumbling down that hill. Do you realize that?"

"I have a lot more questions than I do answers and I keep wondering if I did something to cause this," Olivia's eyes dropped to the top of the table and her voice dipped into a different register, drenched in sadness and uncertainty. "What if it was my fault?"

"Hey, hey, hey," Elliot's attention was on her after the waitress swiped his card, his features softening with every breath as he hooked his index beneath her chin and pulled her focus once more. "We both know better. You didn't deserve this. We're going to find whoever caused this and they'll have to answer for it. Until then, don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault."

You have to say that.

Olivia hadn't taken ownership of her role, of the badge that belonged to her, of every element that came along with it but the one that Elliot possessed was realized. He had been in the wings; waiting to save her but she didn't think she was worth saving. It had rooted beneath the layer of worry and distrust for people before settling into her soul. He was worth getting lost in. He was worth letting her guard down for. Even if it was only until the next cataclysm began and another memory rolled free, he was there.

He might have always been there.

"I spent most of my formative years being blamed for a situation that could never have been in my hands because they happened before I took my first breath," Olivia didn't mind that he was still staring into her as though he'd found the way into her soul to rearrange the furniture as she let the air leave her lungs. "Undoing that without owning everything else has been a feat that I've never fully conquered."

"You've done more than you know," Elliot spotted the waitress coming back with the check and his card as he lifted his chin just a touch, barely tearing his eyes away from Olivia. "You just have to let those memories unfurl with the rest of them."

"Why are you so willing to give me the benefit of every doubt?" Olivia studied his movements as he signed his name, managing a more elegant scrawl than she'd ever expected he'd have, and pushed the pen across the printout. "I've never had anyone just give me the benefit of the doubt without expecting everything and the moon from me."

Elliot shrugged his shoulders, slid out of his chair, and offered a hand to help her to her feet while the smile crept back across his lips. "Because I know you better than you know yourself…always will."

If you're not scared, then you're not taking a chance.

If you're not taking a chance, then what the hell

Are you doing anyway?

-Ted Mosby

7:00 PM

Elliot's Apartment

Shore Towers

Queens, New York

Olivia flinched again with her knees against the scuffed, worn, off-white coffee table in Elliot's living room while the inaudible, melancholy tune of some easy listening station played in the background. The mixture of sterile products and the masculine soaps still lingered in the air; a vast array of first-aid set out in a careful line while Elliot's brows furrowed. The pile of discarded, soiled bandage and gauze rested just feet away while he dabbed the yellowing marks with scabs and dissolving stitches in the middle. Only part of the picture had come into focus, though, as he eyed the edge of her bandage tape beneath the tank top down by her hip, where an ace wrap had once been wound tightly.

Olivia was healing better than Elliot had expected but every twinge and twist of her musculature only indicated what he'd suspected for hours.

She was in pain.

"You need to sit still or I'm going to end up getting antibiotic ointment everywhere," Elliot could see Olivia wincing in his periphery and held back a smirk at the hiss that followed the tiny, involuntary jerks of her limbs. "Worse than the twins."

"Compare me to your kids one more time," Olivia growled and bit down on her bottom lip. "I have one arm with the full range of motion and your testicles are right there. That fucking hurts!"

"If you're going to threaten me with bodily harm, you can finish struggling with changing your bandages all by yourself," Elliot was incredibly gentle as he placed a section of gauze across her wounds, tacking them into place with smaller coverage than the one she had earlier.

Olivia flexed her fingers and pursed her lips together, waving the white flag while Elliot finished up with hiding away her jagged snags on her arm. "Thank you—for letting me clean up, for helping with these, for everything."

"I know you would do the same for me if the situation was reversed," Elliot tapped the cap back onto the antibiotic ointment and gestured toward her ribs, awkwardly shifting his weight while indicating her shirt. "You didn't take the bandage off in the shower, did you?"

"No, just the ace wrap," Olivia groaned a little and held her arm against her chest, sighing as her hair dripped a little more onto her shoulders, down her arms, and back. "I can reach it but it still feels like someone is stepping on me."

"You're gonna need to hike up your shirt and keep your arm up high for a bit," Elliot prepped a sterile pad with solution and caught a sideways glance from Olivia as he turned to look at her while he extended his arm. "Unless you want to risk an infection? I'd rather you not end up with an infection…drag your ass to the ER."

Olivia elevated her brow, her bandaged arm high against her chest, palm against her shoulder while the free arm hesitated to move, lifting the hem high on her ribs. "An ordinary person might think you're making a pass at them."

"It's a good thing you're not ordinary," Elliot smirked and generously tugged the tape away from her skin, paying attention enough not to cause more damage than had already been inflicted as he let the air hit her skin.

"Looks awful, doesn't it?" Olivia could only see the different shades of green, yellow, purple, and red along a few lines of blackened, veiny sections where stitches held her flesh together. "I don't remember the last time it hurt this much to take a breath."

"I won't know about your ribs but the bruises and these scrapes, the deep ones and the shallow ones, are healing well," Elliot had a wave of guilt over being enamored by the undulating spasm beneath his fingers, driven by the pain and a flutter of heat from his fingertips while he dabbed along the stitching. "Is that too much?"

Olivia swallowed harder than anticipated and shook her head while she watched his hand move along the modest grooves of her ribs just as a shiver worked through her midsection down to her toes. "No, no, it's really fine, Elliot. It tickles and itches from the scabbing. Not the most comfortable sensation in the world."

Leering at Olivia felt more than wrong to Elliot but the subtle shade of pink he had elicited from nothing more than a graze of a rib with a pinky did deliver satisfaction. He held a breath and felt the shift of his lungs laboring against his bones until he let the air out. The cloudlike forms of blue, black, purple, and yellowed edges hugged her flesh in the groves of her muscle, connective tissues, and bone below the wire of her bra. She was made of the toughest stuff. It was remarkable that she was even standing but anything less wouldn't have been Olivia; she wasn't capable of less. Elliot discarded the cotton round and fanned her skin for a moment with the paper-wrapped gauze.

It might've been an ordinary gesture if the chill hadn't emboldened her skin with a trail of goosebumps and coaxed a soft, but very audible gasp from Olivia's lips.

"I'm sorry if that's a little cold," Elliot was probably too close, too far into her bubble, but the slight trembling of her lip and the look in her eyes held him there as he reached for the antibiotics. "It has to be dry or the adhesive won't stick to your skin."

Olivia had her bottom lip perched between her teeth, choosing each word with precision as she contemplated asking him to move closer. "It's good—I mean, it's okay. Just the goosebumps. Nothing I can't handle."

The slip of the tongue wasn't intentional but it reverberated; Elliot nearly choked on his spit as he applied the thin layer of ointment. Keeping on task was the only thing maintaining any level of mental clarity for Elliot and Olivia was content to continue letting her eyes stay glued to his. The moment wasn't opportune but the look on Olivia's face had Elliot perplexed enough that he didn't even notice that his thumb was moving dangerously high on her side. The events in Oregon couldn't have been further from her consciousness as she held his gaze while the silence between them grew. Elliot maintained composure and blinked away the blinding hunger in Olivia's eyes with the rip of the paper around the gauze and bandage.

In the wake of having brand new bandages across her ribs, Olivia smoothed her fingers over the tops of Elliot's, very nearly bringing him out of his skin.

"Liv…" Elliot inhaled a sharp breath and glanced at her hand while she continued to move higher on his. "Trying to give a guy a coronary? That's how you do it."

"You started it," Olivia's voice was a little ragged as she regained her straightened spine but moved her digits in a semi-circle just beneath the bunched material of her shirt. "…Maybe I'm just curious enough to investigate where you intended it to lead."

"I was changing your bandages," Elliot elevated his brows and caught a glimpse of a wayward smile on her lips with the drop of his voice into another register. "Not looking to cop a feel or take advantage of the situation. I know you know me better than that."

"El," Olivia's palm crept higher on Elliot's arm and felt the rising gooseflesh across his skin while she neared the bend of his elbow, crossing into a place they'd never ventured as his heat radiated against her. "What would you say, or do, if I wanted you to make a move? If I was waiting for it and you were avoiding it for too long?"

"Olivia, this isn't the right time," Elliot would've given anything for every memory to come rushing back but he was hung up on too many holes in her narrative as her breath stuttered against his neck. "I don't want to give you another reason to have regrets—with everything you've yet to recover."

"I know enough and there hasn't been a memory that hasn't reminded me of what I nearly lost," Olivia found his cheek with her uninjured arm, stroking the hint of stubble near his jawline while the impact of words moved from seduction to serious in a heartbeat. "My partner…I can't lose you again. I know it and I feel it even though it doesn't make complete sense."

Waging a war with their feelings had sent them both on a trajectory that only resulted in confusion, but they'd managed to end up in the same place. Next to each other; broken and reaching for the other. Beacon lights spun perpetually as though they'd always been synchronized without even realizing it. The collision course amplified and went white-hot with a wordless breath as Elliot tucked strands of her wet hair behind her ear, admired the strength within her fragility, and dragged his thumb across her bottom lip. Begging to be saved, to rescue, to finally pull one another from the dark. Mouths alive, aching, and ready to collide.

No sooner than Elliot's lips could graze Olivia's, the sound of heavy, almost frantic knocking shifted the motion in the room and the earth on its axis. Elliot's knee collided with the table and Olivia scrambled to pull her tank top back into place. Worse than teenagers getting caught in the backseat of a car by an adult, they'd decided silently. Elliot was on his feet in seconds and Olivia reeled as the heat refused to leave her face. It was nothing short of embarrassing but the readiness had been willed to the surface; like it had simply been lying dormant.

As though they needed to stumble into the moment to unlock the door and swing it wide open to feel the impact.

Elliot let out a sigh after peering through the peephole, slumping both shoulders. "You gotta be kidding me…"

"Who is it?" Olivia wrestled with the sling and lifted her chin, curiously.

"Hope you're fine with company," Elliot had gone pale beneath the sheen of sweat as he stepped back to look at Olivia. "It's Kathleen."

Quotes by:

Claire LaZebnik

Paul Epworth, Tom Hull, & Florence Welch

Carl Jung x 2

I am so sorry for the ending on this one. It is a little mean but there's a reason for it. The next chapter holds some interesting changes, resolution, and a turn that picks up where this one ended. Elliot and Olivia are about to learn some things about Olivia's attack that will make everything very different.

Thank you to Christine and Crystal for always being there for me. This chapter took a bit of extra time but I hope it is worth it. Comments are welcomed and appreciated.