"Hey. Hey, it's okay. I'm here."

Elliot feels how frightened Noah is by the way he clutches him, his fingers grasping his jacket desperately. His worry that was mainly directed at Olivia is replaced by a deep concern for her child who's crying against him, making him realize just how scary this must be for him. They've gotten along great the few times he's met Noah, he'd like to think they've started to build a rapport, but besides a handshake this is the most physical contact they've shared so far, and Elliot hopes it has a little something to do with trust, that he wouldn't act the same way around a stranger. He briefly hugs the boy to him before getting down to his level, looking at him, gently grabbing his arms.

"I'm here now, it's okay," Elliot tells him again, watching Noah nod his head before he presses on, careful. "Fin said your mom's sick? Can you show me where she is?"

Noah sniffles and wipes both hands down his face. "Yes. She's in the bedroom."

"Okay. Lead the way."

Obviously anxious to get to his mom Noah hardly allows for Elliot to close the door behind him, leading him along the hallway. While he's been at this place a few times, he never made it past the living area and bathroom. Olivia's bedroom is at the far end of the corridor. Noah stops, pointing into the room.

"Here."

Placing a gentle hand on Noah's shoulder, Elliot peeks into the room. There on the bed she is, Liv, huddled in a fetal position facing away from them. She's only wearing a pair of dark pajamas and her hair is tied in a messy bun at the back of her head, some strands wildly sticking out. Just standing in the doorway he's met with the biting stench of bile and vomit.

Noah doesn't cross the threshold, not until Elliot does, obviously insecure, and even when makes his way further into the room, towards the bed, Noah stays close by the door.

Rounding the corner of the bed Elliot almost winces at the sight, his heart sinking a little. Olivia's face is ashen, no sign of her normally olive complexion. Her lips are dry and a little chapped and she sleeps mouth open, hands curled at her chest, and her breath a little more labored than he'd like. He itches to reach out, to touch her, hold her, and let her know someone's there for her and her kid. That he's got them.

"I brought her water and a bucket."

"You did great," Elliot assures him, putting on a smile that'll hopefully calm the boy down. It's not hard to imagine how scared he must have been with no one around to help, not that there's all that much that could've been done for Olivia.

"Is my mom okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, she's okay," he decides upon another long glance at her and grimaces. "Looks like she caught a pretty nasty stomach bug." And since letting her sleep is the best he can do for her for now: "We should let her sleep it off, make her some tea for when she wakes up. What do you say?"

Noah looks at him like he doesn't think that's a good idea, but after a few beats he nods in agreement.

"Okay."

With a smile that Elliot hopes is encouraging he makes his way over, ushering the eight year-old out and down the hallway". Knowing that Olivia is okay, considering, his priority is to get Noah to relax, take his mind off of what transpired before he got here.

"You'll have to show me where everything is, all right?"

"Okay, that's easy."

And Noah shows him everything indeed, from the cabinet with the cups and glasses, to plates and where she stores coffee, tea and some basic cooking and baking ingredients like flour and spices. The collection of tea, bagged and loose, is quite overwhelming but Elliot finds one with camomile and fennel in it which he figures will be easy on her stomach.

Noah stands and watches like a hawk as he fills the kettle with water, and it's making him feel an unknown kind of nervousness. He's just a kid, but he's her kid. This is the first time they are alone for longer than a minute or two, and he didn't expect this to happen anytime soon, so he steels himself for whatever the next hours are going to bring.

"Wanna tell me what happened? With your mom?"

Noah's face falls, Elliot can literally see how sadness is tugging at his lips, how the poor kid is fighting the urge to cry, even now. He doesn't answer immediately, and Elliot doesn't push, wanting to give him time. Eventually, looking at the hallway at the other side of the room, he starts talking, his voice small.

"She wasn't feeling well at dinner. I think she had a tummy ache, because she held it like this." Noah shows him, folding both hands across his stomach. "But she was okay and read to me like she always does."

"I see. And this morning she got worse?"

"Tonight. I heard the noises and I got up because I was worried and she was in the bathroom puking. A lot. And then she was lying on the floor and she was breathing kinda funny." His lip starts to tremble and when his eyes fill with tears again, Elliot wraps an arm around him, gently pulling him against him.

"That must've been scary."

"She didn't even get mad when I didn't go to bed when she told me to, and she couldn't really walk when she wanted to get to her room. She kept stumbling and then she… I don't know… almost crawled, I guess." The way he says it makes Elliot's stomach twist. The kid shouldn't have witnessed any of that. He definitely shouldn't have been alone for it, but this is their reality. It's Liv and Noah and no one else. He thanks God for small blessings, grateful that the boy knew to call someone when he felt something was not right.

"That sounds pretty bad, but you know, sometimes when we get sick, it can be very exhausting. You said your mom's been throwing up a lot, and I think what happened is that between throwing up and feeling so poorly, her body didn't have the energy she needed to walk."

"Really?" Noah looks up at him doubtfully.

"Really. Tell you what, when I got my covid booster shot a couple of months ago? I could hardly get out of bed for two days. I was glad I had my mom with me, just like I'm sure your mom's glad that she had you around when she needed you."

"But I couldn't do anything," Noah says, his face falling.

"Sure you could, you did plenty for her, Noah," Elliot says, squeezing his shoulder. "You went to check on her, you stayed with her, you got her water and a bucket that I saw she needed. And when you didn't know what else to do, and you weren't sure if she was okay, you called Fin. You did everything I would've done."

Noah's eyebrows draw close as he thinks about it, Elliot can literally see the wheels turning in his head. For a moment hopefulness flickers in his eyes, but it's quickly diminished and the boy lowers his head.

"I didn't call Fin right away," he admits, his voice a whisper.

"But you called him. Hey, look at me," Elliot coaxes and Noah looks at him hesitantly. "There's not a single person that wouldn't be a little insecure in that situation, and you're a kid. You did all the right things, and when something told you to call for help you did that, too. You knew what to do in a crisis. Must get it from your mom," Elliot grins, pulling Noah against him, who finally cracks into a small smile.

"My mom always knows what to do," he says, sounding proud.

"She sure does," Elliot agrees as the water comes to a boil and he brews tea in a pot, making sure Olivia will stay hydrated.

"Is there something your mom does for you when you're sick?"

Noah puts a finger to his mouth and thinks. "She lets me watch as much tv as I want."

"That sounds like a pretty good deal. Anything else?"

"She makes me toast and puts squashed banana and honey on it."

Elliot pulls a face, unable to share Noah's enthusiasm about it.

"Banana on toast? Really?"

"Yeah, and it's so good."

"Uh-huh. Sounds gross."

"Your mom never made that for you?" Noah sounds like he's appalled, like not having tried it is an actual crime. "You have to try it."

"I don't think she did. She makes an awesome chicken noodle soup, though. Does your mom cook?"

"Weekends only. Lucy cooks sometimes when mom has to work late," the boy says and shrugs, and Elliot assumes that she's home late quite a lot.

"That happen often?" Spotting a banana in the fruit basket on the breakfast bar he reaches for it.

"Sometimes." Noah sounds unbothered, but Elliot isn't sure that's how he truly feels. He's been an absent father for most of his kids' lives and while they all get along, he's aware that it has impacted his relationships with them greatly. He was better about it with Eli, but work still got in the way more than it should have, especially after Kathy died. He's fixing it, although he's not sure what he'd do without Kathleen and his mother.

"She'd rather be here with you, you know that, right?"

"I guess. She always tries to make up for it when she gets home late."

"I bet." Then: "You got some toast?"

"Over there." He takes off towards the cabinet by the fridge, getting the requested toast.

"Okay. Banana, toast. Now what?"

"Duh. Squash the banana," Noah says, and Elliot can see how the boy almost rolls his eyes.

"Squash the banana. Of course," he mutters around a chuckle. "Could've thought of that."

He grabs a small bowl and a fork before peeling the banana and doing as Noah told him. The kid just stands there and watches his every move, and he has no idea when he's last been under so much scrutiny.

"Can I ask you something?" Noah asks.

"Sure."

The boy hops on one of the chairs at the breakfast bar as Elliot shows him the contents of the bowl.

"Good enough?" His brows raise expectantly.

He can tell by the way he scrunches up his nose that the kid is not impressed with him. "It's more chunky when mom makes it, but it'll do." He should probably give up on trying to impress the boy, it's not like he's gonna make him a toast better than Olivia's anyway, but he can't help that while highly amusing Noah's assessment stings a little.

"More chunky next time. Got it. Now what, just put that and some honey between two slices?"

"You have to toast it first?" Noah says looking at him like he should've known that.

"Toast it?"

"It'll get all soggy if you don't. And you don't need two slices, it's not supposed to be a sandwich, just banana on toast." He shrugs his shoulders and then, all of a sudden, shoots him a brilliant smile. "You'll learn."

"Well thanks for believing in me." He fishes two slices of bread out of the bag to toast them when Noah asks, nonchalant.

"What was it like to be my mom's partner?" While it's not a question Elliot expected, it's one that's easy to answer, one he's proud to answer even. Looking back, the thirteen years he's worked alongside Liv have been the best of his career, and despite the nature of SVU the only ones he wouldn't want to trade in, so turning back around and looking at her son's curious face he smiles as he answers.

"Being your mom's partner was one of the best things I've experienced. She's the best. The very best partner anyone could hope for. I think that's why we've worked together for so long. Thirteen years is a long time, especially in that line of work. I didn't work half as long with anyone else before her, or after."

He can see Noah's face folding, confusion settling on it. "If she was the best partner then why did you leave?"

Elliot is momentarily stunned. This is something he's not at all proud of answering, in fact he's quite ashamed of it. Hell, he has no idea if it's even okay to say something without checking in with Liv first. She'd told him that she covered the basics of who he was and how she knew him with Noah before the Christmas get together, that she kept it simple, but obviously Noah still has questions that she either didn't answer, or he didn't ask, until now. The way the kid looks at him makes his stomach clench, and swallowing, Elliot rubs his chin, trying to figure out what the hell to do. Clearing his throat, Elliot decides to proceed with caution.

"What did your mom say about why I left?"

"That she didn't really know."

Well, that certainly does not help.

"I see," Elliot says slowly. He puts his hands around the lip of the breakfast bar, his eyes narrowing as he tries to think of how to best explain this to an eight year-old. He has no idea how much he knows about the nature of the job, and he wants to tread carefully and not have this bite him in the ass when Liv finds out about the conversation. "What your mom and I used to do… what your mom still does? It's… it's not an easy job. Some of the cases were very hard on me, and I didn't want to do this kind of work anymore. Which doesn't mean that I didn't want to work with your mom, I very much did. I just couldn't stay where we worked."

"And then you moved and worked in Italy with another partner like mom worked with Uncle Nick before she became the boss?"

"Not right away, but eventually."

"And did you send her cards?"

Elliot's eyes widen and he feels like he just got sucker punched. This kid certainly knows to go for the jugular.

"No. No, I didn't," Elliot admits uncomfortably. At this point it's entirely possible Noah would ask Olivia to see them if he told him otherwise.

"Why not? Mom and I always send cards when we make a trip. She says it's a nice thing to receive a card and show people that you think about them when you're away."

Jesus fucking Christ, this isn't going well at all. Elliot has a feeling the kid will turn him inside out within the next few minutes. By the way Noah's striking blue eyes have him pinned he doesn't even dare move when the toaster spits out the bread. Dancing around this subject with Olivia is one thing, but it's quite another with her son, and it doesn't seem like he's going to let him get away with excuses or lies. Elliot sighs.

"Because I was a coward. When I quit I didn't talk to your mom about it, and I should've, but I was scared. I was scared to see her and talk to her, scared to tell her myself." For as unsettling it feels to have this conversation with Olivia's kid, his voice is surprisingly steady. "Have you ever done something that you knew wasn't right, and you knew you should tell someone, but the longer you waited the harder it got to talk about it?"

Noah only nods, his cheeks turning a little red at whatever memory crosses his mind, and inwardly Elliot breathes a sigh of relief that he can at least relate somewhat.

"It was like that. The longer I waited, the harder it got to pick up the phone, and before I knew it so much time had passed and thinking about calling or visiting scared me even more because I knew your mom would be upset, and I didn't have a very good reason for what I've done."

"But you did call her, right? Mom said you are friends."

He didn't so much call her rather than request her presence at a crime scene–a crime scene that involved his wife and a bombing and meeting Olivia after ten years of complete radio silence, which, in retrospect, hadn't been fair. He hadn't been in his right mind, then, acting on instinct, and instinct told him that the only person he wanted there with him–for him–was Olivia.

"It wasn't that simple, but I got in touch with her. We reconnected when I moved back here, and I'm very lucky that your mom decided she still wants to be friends. I've hurt her, and I'm trying to make things right. Not sure I'm doing a very good job of it," he shrugs and grimaces. Noah looks a bit overwhelmed, like he hadn't expected the answers he's been given. After a brief moment of pressing silence the boy cocks his head.

"Did you apologize?" It comes out with such innocence, Elliot wants to laugh, but everything that bubbles up his throat is a quiet pained groan. He wishes it were that simple, that an apology could make up for every wrong turn, every mistake–and God knows he's made plenty.

He wonders if he should tell the kid that sometimes it's not that easy, that an apology doesn't really cut it when you disappear for ten years, not to mention that he's guilty of one fuck up after another since his return. He has of course uttered words of apology, but then it all had still been too raw, there at the hospital, with Kathy injured, him utterly lost and Olivia altogether too shaken to have this conversation–any kind of conversation, actually.

In the past four months they've found common ground, him and Liv. They talk regularly, and they meet, and he hopes she can see that she's a priority, that he wants this. Up until a few weeks ago it's always been him initiating contact. Liv still seems a little wary sometimes, and he wonders if she's been testing him. He wouldn't be surprised if she needed him to prove his reliability when he's been the epitome of unreliability for so long. He'll gladly make the effort if it means Olivia will at one point be able to fully trust him again. With all of this as complicated as it already is, he really shouldn't put any more on Noah's mind, and in lack of a better response he nods, taking the easy way out.

"I did apologize."

It seems to satisfy the kid because he's back to smiling that bright smile that makes something within him shift. It makes him feel warmish and happy. Four months ago he'd wondered if he'd fucked up one too many times when Liv told him she wished she could trust him, that what was going on between them was a one-way street. He'd held his breath that night, wondering if she'd follow up with the words that would put an end to them, to everything, and even when she hadn't he felt nothing close to relief, because she'd made it clear that they were barely hanging on by a thread.

He'd gotten the message loud and clear, and he's here now, with her kid, reflecting on the past four months, realizing that he's got a place in her life–an actual place, where they talk and see each other, a place where he starts to feel comfortable enough to cut all the bullshit.

It's much easier now. They both can breathe and they laugh, and this thing between them that's certainly more than friendship is tentative but tempting, begging to be explored. All the unspoken boundaries are slowly melting away, and God knows Elliot almost kissed Olivia at his garden gate as he bid her goodbye last week. There's not even a single doubt in his mind that Olivia knows it too, that she wanted it, because she'd leaned in a little closer, looking ready and inviting and flushed with wine and what he thinks was want, and he would've moved in and kissed her senseless right there if it hadn't been for Eli returning home from the movie theater, successfully crashing the intimate moment.

They've taken quite a few steps in the right direction lately, but it's this, talking to her son, that makes him realize he still owes Liv a proper apology for all the shit he's put her through, and he's desperate to get it out, now. Or at least as soon as possible, once she's feeling better.

"Then it's all good. Mom always says that's the most important thing. To apologize when you did something wrong, as long as you really mean it."

"Sounds like good advice," Elliot says, tearing himself away to get the toast.