I'm sitting on a chair, outside of an interrogation room holding a pack of ice to my head. A hit hard enough to leave a bump and shake my skull a little but not hard enough to fracture my skull or give me a concussion. Elliot is about to go in and interrogate Ms. Angela Wheatley and he asked me to be here. It's pretty clear that Ms. Wheatley is the mastermind behind everything that has happened to the Stabler family and now we just need her to put the pieces together. What the hell is her problem with Elliot Stabler? Does she still really believe that he had something to do with the killing of her son?

"Here," Elliot says as he hands me a bottle of water.

"Thanks."

"How's your head?"

"It hurts but I'll live." He looks at me apologetically and Jesus, this man always thinks me getting injured is his fault. "I'm fine. Now go find out why that woman is so goddamn obsessed with you."

He nods and steps away to walk into the room.

"I can see why you two were never split up," Bell says from next to me.

I smile, "Yeah. We got into a hell of a lot of trouble but we're, what Elliot likes to call, a powerhouse together."

"And you calm him."

"I do. Always have."

"You're good for him."

I nod, "He's good for me too." He really is. As much as people don't believe he is, he is. He makes me feel safe. Safer than I've ever felt in my life.

"So what's the real reason?" We hear Elliot ask and both of us turn our attention to the double sided mirror to watch.

"The real reason for what, Detective Stabler?"

"The real reason you killed my wife."

"I already told you..."

"Cut the crap, Mrs. Wheatley."

She laughs then. And evil sort of demonic laugh and Jesus, what the hell is with this woman.

"Fine." She crosses her hands on the table before her and I swear, if this woman tries some more bullshit with us, "We knew you were head of the investigation on Wheatley's father. Richard was given a copy of your international ID, which is when we first figured out who you were. And you were, are, a good looking man Elliot. You see, Richard and I have always had an interesting relationship. We love one another but the man just can't seem to keep it in his pants. Was always an issue when I ventured out but him? He could do what he pleased with whoever he pleased. We knew your background by then. Knew you were a man who knocked up your high school girlfriend pretty much the first time you had sex, married her, joined the army to take care of them. Became a police officer like your father and just kept popping those babies out. The one thing I didn't know about was you're precious Olivia Benson. I didn't think about the possibility of there being another woman you cared for because you and Kathy had been married SO long."

Everyone is silent as she speaks. Our eyes on her face and God...

"So I waged some sort of bet, I guess I would call it, with that ex-husband of mine. Told him to watch me get you to come to me. At first he was against it but you, you Detective Stabler are a good cop, and you were messing with all of our business. Richard didn't like that much and as long as I fucked with your life, he was okay with it. So we tracked you, blew Kathy up and I played the grieving mother. And you're a good man too, Elliot. Charming, handsome and funny, I really do have feelings for you. I was so close to having you, so close. You were right there and I thought I had you. Thought I won but you took off and I couldn't figure out why. I mean, I know why now. More than know why now. And God, if I had known about Olivia, the relationship you two share, her and Kathy would have been killed the same day."

Jesus. She would have killed me too. Now that would have been the ultimate breaking of Elliot Stabler right there and I'm beyond thankful that they hadn't figured out how important I am to him.

"All because you wanted to prove a point to Richard? Wanted to show him that you could have anybody you wanted also?" Elliot asks. When she shrugs her shoulders in a non-chalet type of way, his face turns into one of pure disgust and I can tell the moment he's about to walk out of there.

As he turns his body she says, "You should be thanking me, Elliot."

He scoffs, "Thanking you for killing my wife?"

"Thanking me for finally making you available for that Captain of yours. Because you know, if Kathy had lived you would have went to Olivia's ceremony and flew right back to Rome. You would have left her, just like you did 10 years ago." Fuck. "I did you both a favor."

Well, if there's anything this woman said that affected me, it's this. Because it's the truth, isn't it? The man would have showed up, surprised the hell out of me at my ceremony, gave me that stupid ass fucking letter and would have been gone before I even had time to process any of it. My mind and my heart would have been in shambles all over again and really, what the fuck was his plan with me?

He scoffs once more, "Don't kid yourself. You didn't do anyone any favors. What you did was take a mother, an amazing mother, away from her five children, just like Richard took your son away from you. You and the rest of the Wheatleys are scums on this earth. And I really hope you enjoy spending the rest of your pathetic life in prison."

He doesn't give her a chance to respond, doesn't even look back at her as he walks out of the room and I try, I really try to get this stupid look of sorrow off my face because this is supposed to be a relieved time. She admitted to putting the hit on Kathy, which means Kathy will have justice but all I can think about is the fact that if Kathy wouldn't have died, I would have been left without him again and it's bullshit. It's bullshit that everyone fucking leaves me, including this man.

And although I try to hide it, he sees it. Sees the look of disappointment, the look of sadness on my face and I can see his instant reach for me in his eyes. That terror, once again, that I'm about to throw away everything that this is.

"Liv..."

We are not having this conversation right now. "Pretty bulletproof confession."

I know Bell can feel the tension between us and of course, she is going to try to get us out of her unit before that tension breaks, "I'll get her booked, if you want to take the Captain home."

He nods, never takes his eyes off of me and when she walks off he extends his hand out to me to help me up. I really don't want to touch him right now and I'm halfway tempted to call Fin to get me because my head still fucking hurts and I cannot handle another one of these conversations right now. But Fin is busy running my unit and with the way my head is feeling, I'm definitely not going back to work today and fuck, guess I have no choice. I let him take my hand, use his support to stand straight and shit, my head really hurts.

"You good?" He asks when he sees me stumble slightly. Yeah, Elliot, I'm fine. I was just smacked in the head with a cane by the psychotic woman who put the hit on Kathy, the woman that you fucking kissed.

"Yeah, my head just really hurts."

"Okay, let's get you home so you can rest. Do we need to get Noah?"

"No, he's staying at a friend's tonight."

He walks close behind me on the way to his car, makes sure I get in safely and the drive to my place is in complete silence. I'm not sure if that's because he's being mindful of my pounding head or because he's not sure what he's supposed to say but I'm thankful either fucking way. And when he goes to unbuckle his seatbelt to most likely walk me up, I speak.

"I'll be fine, Elliot." I will be. All I have to do is make it to the elevator, push the button, walk down the hall and unlock the door. I can do that. Maybe. God, my head.

"I'm walking you up."

He's not asking, he's doing and I'm not sure if I appreciate it or not. Before I can even answer, he's out of the car and opening my door for me. I huff out in annoyance at him when he grabs my purse from my hand and hear him mumble a "Yeah, yeah" behind me. The ice pack is long gone and I'm kind of wishing I still had it because it was at least relieving the pain some. When we make it the elevator I groan and lean my head against the wall next to the button.

As he presses it, he says quietly, "Yeah, you would have definitely been fine."

"Can you just not talk right now?" Don't know if I made it clear that my head is fucking pounding but I don't need his smart ass remarks either.

He nods, stands beside me as we wait for the doors to open and when they do the sound of them makes me groan again. I don't want to move anymore. Each step is causing me more pain and God, I just want my pillow.

"Come on, Liv."

I feel his arm around my waist, his hand wrapping around my ribcage, much like mine had been when he showed up high at my place and I move my body with the movement of his. Once he stops moving, I lean myself against him, my head falling against his shoulder. I don't even give a fuck anymore, I cannot physically hold my head up any longer and I'm really starting to wonder if that MRI they gave me at the hospital missed something.

He compensates my weight fantastically, shifts his hand a little lower on my ribcage and even through the pounding of my head, I am hyper aware of how warm my skin feels under his palm.

As good as he feels, he shouldn't be here right now. God, the woman who is responsible for his wife's death just gave an open confession and his kids don't even know yet. He should be telling them, not helping me. "You need to be with your kids," I whisper.

I feel his chin move against me, his lips leaning towards my ear and when he speaks, it's a hushed whisper, "No, I need to be with you right now."

I can only manage a nod because fuck if he wasn't here right now? I'd probably be on my back outside the elevator. And I do not want that. The sound of the doors opening causes me to dig my head deeper into his shoulder. Everything just needs to be quiet.

His hand rubs against my side and geez, why does he feel so good. "Almost there, Liv."

I just let him guide me at this point. I don't pay attention to where we're going, to the sound of him rummaging through my purse for my keys, to my door opening. I just take my steps in tune to his and when I hear the sound of my door close and the click of the lock, I don't think I've ever been so relieved.

"Want your bed or the couch?" He asks me, his arm still solidly around me.

The couch is closer but my bed is more comfortable and my head is craving those expensive pillows I finally gave in to. "My bed, straight down the hallway." This is only the second time he's been in my place, the first time when he was so high, he was the one being carried around, so I have to give him some sort of direction.

When we cross the threshold to my room, he places my purse on my dresser, guides me to the edge of my bed and keeps both his hands on my sides as I sit slowly. I let him remove my coat, let him kneel down to remove my shoes and fuck, this is the closest we've ever been before.

I didn't let him help me when we were partners and he never pushed to help me and now I know the real reason. If we did this then, there is no way we would have been able to stop. We couldn't let one another know a hint of how good it would be if we were more.

He guides my head back to pillows first and fuck, this pounding needs to go the fuck away already because I can't concentrate on how fucking good his hands feel. On how fucking good he's treating me right now. Then my feet are being lifted onto the mattress and God, I've never been more thankful for my bed. I sigh into my pillow and whisper a quiet but pained, "Thank you," to him.

"Are you cold?"

Fuck. Yes, I am and I'm lying on my blanket. I groan lowly because I really don't want to have to move.

"The one on the back of the couch okay?"

"Yes."

"Where's your Tylenol?"

"Bathroom."

I am not capable of giving more than one word answers right now and he must understand because he gives my shoulder a light squeeze before standing up and taking off. I close my eyes in hope that will dampen the pain in my head and fuck that cane and fuck that woman.

I'm not sure if I drift off for a second but I open my eyes back up to the feeling of the blanket being settled on me.

"Take these before you fall asleep, Liv."

Two Tylenol sitting his hand, a glass of water in the other and as much as I know I should take them, I really don't want to move my head again. I swear I have never had a headache so bad. "It hurts, Elliot."

"I'll help you," he says.

He's placing the pills at my mouth, urging me to open. And when I oblige, he uses his hand to lift my head just enough to put a straw in my mouth. "Drink."

I'm not sure where he found a straw in my kitchen but I'm thankful I don't have to lift my head anymore and once the pills are down he's placing my head gently back on the pillow and rubbing his fingers lightly along my scalp. I'm about to curse him but when his fingers softly make contact with the bump, they disappear just as quickly to be replaced by the coldness of an ice pack. I groan lowly in appreciation and sink myself further into the pillows under me. Please, let me wake up without a headache, please.

But before I drift off, I whisper, "Can you tell, Fin?"

"Yeah, I will."

"Thank you, again."

I feel his palm against my cheek, his thumb rubbing lightly, "Sleep, Liv."

And minus my headache I've never been more comfortable in my life.