Hello all,

Yes, I'm still alive and doing my best to keep going despite a cranky 3 month old. :)

This chapter is part one of much needed comfort and conversation between the two of them, hope you enjoy.

Wrapped in a rather short gray towel, Olivia padded quietly through the hall and into Elliot's room. His back was to her as he rifled through something on the bed; she saw a navy-blue NYPD shirt and gray boxer shorts on a nearby chair and gently cleared her throat as to not startle him.

"These for me?"

Elliot whirled around but promptly turned back to the bed as he noticed her in nothing but cloth.

"Yeah. I'll keep myself uh…facing this way, feel free to get dressed. I'm trying to find the peroxide. I know I have some in this kit."

"It's ok, really. I don't need-"

"Liv, humor me will ya?"

Conceding with a sigh, Olivia put on the gray boxer shorts but kept her towel wrapped around her chest so he could have access to her fresh wounds. Fisting the NYPD shirt in her hands, she resisted the urge to bring it to her nose. She wondered if it smelled similar to the shirt from his locker that she had kept when she cleaned it out.

Get it together, Liv. There's about a thousand and one things to take care of right now, none of them involving your old partner's wardrobe.

She made her way over to the bed, sitting at the foot of it as Elliot continued to empty out a medium sized red cross bag.

"Ahh, here it is." He said triumphantly.

She watched as he grabbed a washcloth off his nightstand and poured some of the peroxide on it. Already grimacing at the thought of the sting, she offered up her arm to Elliot's waiting hand. Kneeling in front of her, he took a hold of her wrist. He did his best to be as gentle as possible as he worked his way up her arm, using her expressions of discomfort as his cue of when to stop and continue.

"Part of me doesn't even want to ask but…how did this even happen?"

Feeling a knot form in her throat, Olivia spoke lowly to keep her voice from wavering.

"Mikhail clobbered me as soon as you left. He gathered that we somehow knew each other and accused me of fucking you. I told him he was crazy and high and…" She swallowed thickly as recent memories flowed forth, her nerves shot.

Elliot watched her carefully, his jaw clenching as he resisted the urge to go find Mikhail and end things himself.

"I…I fought him off for a moment but got the jump on me from behind and he knocked me to the floor. He dragged me out of the club by my hair…and the pavement in the parking lot did a little more exfoliating than my skin is used to."

"You don't have to do that."

"Do what?"

"Joke to deflect the seriousness of all this. Everything's gone to hell, Liv and we need to talk about it."

Furrowing her brow, Olivia looked up at Elliot seemingly confused.

"It's the nature of undercover work Elliot, I'm not quite sure what else there is to talk about."

"How about what Mikhail did to you to leave those scars all over your back?"

He watched as Olivia froze, her mouth opening of its own volition and then promptly closing itself.

"That wasn't him."

"Then who-"

"We're not talking about it."

"Liv, I have a right-"

"You don't have a right to shit. You left remember? You left me. And with that you abandoned any so-called right to know anything about my life and what happened while you weren't in it."

Her words burned as he swallowed them, but it's not like he could fault her. She was right. He was not owed a single explanation. Not to her scars, her past, her present. None of it. He, however, owed her everything.

"Where's Kathy?"

The question took him by surprise and Olivia watched as Elliot's face contorted, seemingly in anger.

"Gone. She left me a couple of months ago when I took the job at Organized Crime."

"Left…" Olivia trailed off as she noticed his bare ring finger for the first time. "You're divorced?"

"Divorcing…but yeah," Elliot sighed as he finished up patting at her shoulder wound and packing up the peroxide. "She didn't want to leave Italy and I couldn't stay another minute."

"Italy. Right." She noted, watching him as he rummaged through the first aid kit once again, this time looking for an icepack for her face. "You mentioned that earlier. Why were you in Italy to begin with?"

"I began working in the private sector after…after Jenna. I just couldn't come back to SVU and walk into that squad room without seeing her blood on my hands. It took long enough to get it out of my nightmares."

"You could've told me."

"No, Liv I couldn't have. Leaving the job was one thing, but leaving you? God, that nearly killed me. I know I was a fucking coward about it and I'm sorry. I also know there are not enough apologies in the world to repair what I damaged. I never meant to…I just didn't know how-"

"Yeah, I got it." Olivia interrupted, deciding to put him out of his misery. Pressing her fingers to her temple, she began to rub in small clockwise movements as a headache approached.

"Hey, you okay?" Elliot asked, concerned.

Ok? No, she wasn't ok. She was in the early stages of withdrawal. If she didn't indulge soon, her symptoms would get worse and she'd be even more of a mess. She felt herself start to panic slightly as the anxiety began to set in. She needed to use. But she was with Elliot. But she needed to use.

Her mind continued to go in circles, just like her fingertips, and she forced herself to stay in the moment and focus on literally anything other than the aches and pains coming in and settling in her bones.

"I'll be fine. It's just been a long injurious day."

"Maybe we should get you to the hospital, Liv."

"No!" She barked. "No hospitals. They'll be able to find me there."

"They can find you anywhere, they're tracking you like a dog. Again, please tell me why you won't tell the feds to take you out of this."

"I took care of the tracker already. Tasers work wonders for frying electronic devices. And staying in with the Russians was my choice, I just…" She paused as a shiver ran down her spine. "I didn't want to give up when I was so close to bringing down their operation."

"Give up? Do you hear yourself?" Elliot asked, his voice getting increasingly louder as his agitation grew. "You had to taser yourself so they can't monitor your movements, this has gone beyond a normal fucking undercover operation."

"If I had walked away from this job your son would've been killed. So maybe instead of trying to tell me what to do you should be fucking grateful." She bit back.

"I am absolutely grateful for you saving my son, but there's nothing for me to be thankful for if you're dead, Olivia. Please." He said delicately as he brushed her wet waves away from her shoulder.

Huffing, she bit at her lip. Her ire started to grow as much as her craving for the opiates she left in his bathroom. She needed to go back and retrieve her jeans before she blew her top. As minutes passed, the aches and pains became more intense, the shivers were lying in wait near her spine, and her temperament…her temperament would soon be completely unpredictable.

"Maybe…maybe this was a bad idea. I think I should go." She announced as she pushed him aside and stood up. Keeping her back to him, she removed the towel and quickly put on his t-shirt before opening the bedroom door. She could hear him follow her as she rounded the corner and went into his bathroom. She collected her jeans and now useless bodysuit in her arms, only to have Elliot take them from her.

"Liv, face it. You have nowhere to go anymore; you know it and I know it."

"Wow, El. Thanks for reminding me that I'm fucking homeless and out of options. Feels great on top of everything else tonight. Kind of like a warm hug." She said snidely as she reached for her clothes.

"Ok, all right, we can stop talking about this for now just please stay. Get some rest, my bed is all yours." Elliot conceded, as he returned her belongings and gestured for her to return to his room.

She nodded, shivering slightly as her symptoms started to become more pronounced.

"Goodnight, El." She muttered as she traipsed quickly past him.

As soon as she entered his room, she crossed over to the bed and sat, tucking one leg under her. She fumbled around the back pocket of her jeans, searching for her little baggie of goods but came up empty. Puzzled, she checked her front pockets as well. Fuck. Did it fall out in the scuffle? Maybe she had it in her bra instead? No, she would've noticed that when she took off her bodysuit.

"Looking for this?"

Olivia's head snapped up to see Elliot standing in the doorway, her drug paraphernalia in his hand.

Motherfu-.

"Yeah," She sighed. "Actually, I was."

She watched as he looked down and swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

"You're not doing this shit in my house, Liv." He said sternly as he brought his gaze back to hers.

"Well then, I guess we've reached an impasse. I'm not getting any rest tonight if I'm going through withdrawal."

She observed his demeanor, watching as he contemplated his next move. Logically, she knew there was very little chance of him giving in, but the cocky part of her thought she'd be able to get by. Well, Irina thought she could get by.

"El…" She appealed as she got up the bed and stood in front of him. "Please. I can't…I can't go through this right now. Don't make me."

He remained unmoving, his blue eyes simply fixated on her brown. She reached for the drugs in his hand, and in that moment he came back to life, swiftly grabbing her wrist and steering her away.

"I'm sorry…but I'm not letting you do this to yourself. You're a fucking addict, Olivia and you need help whether you want it or not."