When Peter arrived at his patient's floor, the chaos was already buzzing. Officers were going in and out of her apartment, either with evidence bags or talking to each other about the crisis. When Sergeant Tutuola called him earlier that evening and gave him the summary of what had happened, he had cancelled his other appointments and rushed out of his office.

Even though he tried to treat all of his patients the same, Olivia Benson had always been special to him. He had seen her at her worst, and had accompanied her through major, both traumatic and beautiful, events in her life. He had trouble remembering their last session, as their meetings were now more occasional than regular.

Preparing himself for the worst, he passed the officers at her door and entered her apartment. He saw the body lying on the floor covered by a sheet but kept his eyes moving around to assess the situation. Olivia was sitting on her knees, in the middle of her living room. Sergeant Tutuola was beside her, with another man who he did not recognize. As he approached her, the Sergeant raised on his feet to greet him and give him his space. The other man looked at him puzzled but let him crouch down nonetheless. Peter had a job to do.

"Hi Olivia." He said friendly.

He saw her grasp for control.

"I'm fine." She replied, even though they both knew it was a lie.

He wasn't there to argue with her though.

"Yes you are." He needed her to understand that. "Would you like to go elsewhere to talk a little?" he tried.

"I want to see my son." He remembered that in situations like this, she had told him that seeing her son helped to ground herself.

"We'll get Noah to you soon, I promise. Maybe we could facetime him?" She looked up at him this time. "Let's go into your bedroom and call him okay?"

She nodded and tried to get to her feet, but the panic attacks and the adrenaline rush had left her with little energy. He went to help her, but the man beside him was quicker. Strong, yet gentle, this man seemed to be close to her. But he had no idea who he was. Those questions would be for later.

Lindstrom led Olivia to the corridor and eventually to her bedroom. He helped her sit on the edge of the bed.

"Do you want me to close the door or leave it open, Olivia?"

She seemed to ponder her choices.

"Maybe close it just a little."

Peter went and did that, respecting her boundaries. When he walked back he made sure to give her space and sat on a chair near the bed, not quite facing her, but still in her view.

"Can you tell me what day it is?" he started simple, with protocol.

Benson seemed annoyed for a moment, but complied.

"Thursday. The 8th. 2022."

Lindstrom nodded.

"What about your rank?"

She hesitated for a second.

"Captain."

"And where are we right now?"

"At my apartment." She sighed, tired.

"Where you live alone?"

"No, with my son Noah."

He needed to do this, not only for protocol, but also to remind her of where she was in her life. The PTSD sometimes pulled people back at the time of the assault. He needed to make sure she wasn't reliving her trauma with Lewis.

"Can you tell me what happened tonight, Olivia?"

She closed her eyes, mostly out of exhaustion.

"He was here when I came home." She spoke in a small voice. "He…he pulled a gun to my face."

He remembered that was how the Lewis situation began as well. She must have known he would ask her about the whole story because she offered before he could question her.

"He pulled my hair, threatened me, sold me on the internet apparently. We…we were getting ready to leave when…" she stopped, stuck in her memories.

"When what?" he pushed gently.

Olivia raised her eyes to the half-opened door. She frowned but Peter wasn't sure if it was out of confusion or if she had a hard time remembering.

"Olivia?"

Her glassy eyes found him.

"I'm…I'm not sure."

She didn't have trouble remembering anything else, but something was blocking her about this.

"How did the man die, Olivia?"

She looked lost in thought for a moment.

"He…he was shot."

"That's right."

"He's dead. I know he's dead." She said mostly to show him she wasn't delusional.

"He is. Who shot him?" even Lindstrom didn't know the answer, so he was relying on her recollection, expecting the worst.

But she couldn't say. She started shaking her head, her eyes watering. Peter reached for her hand.

"Olivia, did you shoot the man?"

She looked at the door again.

"No." she breathed.

"You know everything you say is confidential between us."

"I didn't shoot him, I swear!" she started panicking again, afraid she would need to fight so her version of events would be believed, just like with Lewis.

"Okay. I believe you." He let her calm down a bit. "Who shot the man then?"

The confusion returned in her eyes. Lindstrom recognized the look as one where the patient didn't trust his recollection of events.

"I'm not sure…" she replied.

Peter frowned at her answer. But then everything became very clear in his mind. That man, in the living room, was Elliot Stabler. And he was the one who shot the perp.

Lindstrom knew her partner was back, but had never met him. It didn't surprise him, from what Olivia had told him, that he was here tonight. Their bond was strong, a partnership like no other, each of them there to protect the other. Even though Peter knew Olivia was deeply hurt by Stabler's leaving, he also knew that she was still very attached to the man.

Peter also gathered that during the Lewis saga, Olivia had been looking for her protector, even though she never mentioned it at the time. And from what he understood, Elliot still cared about her. Tonight, it made sense that Stabler was here to save her, something Olivia had dreamt of during the Lewis episode.

Lindstrom now understood what her confused look was all about: she didn't fully believe Stabler had shown up for her. She didn't trust her recollection because her PTSD was clouding her mind, making it doubt the fact that Stabler had returned and saved her, this time.

"Olivia, did Elliot shoot the man?"

Her teary eyes found his.

"He…he's not really here, is he?" she sounded so small, broken.

She couldn't bring herself to believe it, still.

"Well, I've never officially met him, but if Elliot Stabler is the tall, built, bald man who was kneeling close to you in your living room when I arrived, I'd say he's here."

She looked towards the half-opened door again, hopeful. Lindstrom continued.

"And I'd say he came tonight to help you. To protect you."

A tear ran down her cheek as she began realizing it. Her shaking calmed down. Peter knew she was winning against the PTSD. After a minute, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"I want to talk to Noah." She returned to her previous demand.

The doctor, satisfied with her patient's state of mind, nodded and handed her a phone.

"I'll give you a couple of minutes alone." He said, moving towards the door quietly.

Peter left the door still half opened, but returned to the living room. What he found there, or who he found there, didn't surprise him the least. The officers had taken the body out of the apartment and most of the crew had left. Only Sergeant Tutuola and Detective Stabler remained behind, both rising to their feet when the doctor came back.

"How is she, Doc?" the Sergeant asked.

"She's okay. She's back."

Both men sighed in relief. Lindstrom let his gaze go to the Detective's face, trying to read him. What he saw was a mix of emotions, going from relief of Olivia's wellbeing to confusion about the situation, to guilt of not being able to protect her (either tonight or before, he wasn't sure). When he realized he had been staring a bit too long to be polite, Peter began a conversation.

"You're Elliot Stabler, aren't you?" he asked gently.

The man seemed surprised for a moment, but quickly recovered.

"Yeah."

Peter extended his hand.

"Doctor Peter Lindstrom." Elliot shook it politely. Fin stepped back, letting the two men getting acquainted.

Peter sat on the couch, inviting the detective to do the same.

"From what I gather, you've been in Olivia's life for a long time."

Stabler sat as well, even though he was clearly uncomfortable.

"I've known her a long time, yes." He rectified and Peter gave him credit for it.

"Yes. When I met Olivia, you were already gone."

Elliot had a difficult time swallowing at that, but didn't take the comment as an attack. Lindstrom continued, keeping his voice soft and opened.

"Olivia didn't mention you a lot in our sessions over the years." Hurt showed on Elliot's face. "She did mention that you were back though, last year." Stabler sat patiently, listening. "I won't overstep the confidentiality of our sessions, but she mentioned that you two were trying to work your friendship out..?"

"That's right." His voice was rough.

"How's that going?"

The detective let out a dry laugh, which told Peter everything he needed to know. But he was still curious to have Elliot's point of view. Stabler seemed to think about his response, one of his hands going to rub his chin a few times.

"Complicated."

Peter smiled empathically and let him continue.

"I know I have a lot to make up for. I…I broke her trust in me, I get that. I'm still amazed she's even talking to me." Elliot smiled sadly.

"Olivia is a very forgiving person." Peter tried.

But that only brought more sadness to Stabler's face.

"Yeah…more that I deserve." He mumbled.

Lindstrom hesitated a moment before speaking again.

"What someone deserves is sometimes complicated, hard to name out loud, hard to believe." Elliot's blue eyes found his own. "May I ask you something, Detective?

"Call me Elliot." He agreed.

"What do you think Olivia deserves?"

If Stabler could answer that question honestly to him, Peter would know Olivia will be in good hands in the future. That she could trust this man again. And it would mean his job was going to be clearer after this.

Elliot's eyes lighted up at the question. As if the answer was always there, in front of him. A certainty, an unwavering truth Elliot always knew.

"Everything." He said quietly, but strongly.

Peter let the answer hang in the air for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction.

"I agree."

He then rose to his feet, Stabler followed. Before leaving, Lindstrom turned one last time to the detective.

"Will you leave her again, Elliot?"

Stabler expression told him the answer before he voiced it.

"Never."

Peter smiled.

"Tell her." He advised, before calmly made his way to the exit. His job was done for the night.