(Actually wandered in to ff.net to post something. Since this one isn't
smut, I guess I can *smirk*)
Title: Broken Author: Icarus (aka Ice) Spoilers: Lowdown Summary: A missing scene from Lowdown that we ALL needed to see but of which we were deprived. Crap. Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm just a poor college student trying to procrastinate on work, hehe. Don't sue. Trust me, it wouldn't be worth it.
She had been sitting for hours before the first tears came.
Staring at the same spot on the worn floorboards, her mind racing tirelessly, she hadn't even realized she was awake until the first few drops burned their way down her cheeks. Tumbling over the smooth skin of her cheeks as they created minute salty rivers, the cold numbness that had overtaken her earlier washed away until she was shaking. The pain was setting in, emotional beyond belief, as her shoulders shook from her efforts to choke back her sobs.
A guttural cry ripped through her as she finally gave in, the flow of her tears soaking into her hands as she buried her face into her open palms. Her whole body wracked with tremors as she gasped for the air that wouldn't seem to come. She leaned forward, swiftly unfolding her legs from where they were tucked comfortably beneath her. Ignoring the sharp pinpricks of pain from her sleeping limbs, she placed them on the floor and leaned forward to rest her elbows on the tops of her knees.
Her wet fingers raked through her hair, pulling it back harshly as if it would help her to control her emotions yet again. Finally, she laced her fingers tightly around the back of her neck and held on. Loud, open mouthed sobs could be heard throughout the silence of her dark, empty apartment. The tears fell to the floor beneath her, creating the beginnings of small salty puddles; a testament to her emotional state.
She had come so close to dying. And it had snuck up on her so suddenly.
Olivia was used to being on guard. Always wary of a possible bullet or perp and always being completely acceptant of the fact. She had been ready to die, and had even come chillingly close to it before.
But never like this.
This was something that had been beyond her control. And she hated herself for it. She knew that she should be thankful, happy even, for what the end result had been. But she just couldn't bring herself to be.
For even as the relief washed through her she had felt something even sharper stab deeply at her insides, twisting until it almost made her scream.
For the first time in a long time, Olivia Benson was scared.
She was scared of what she had become and what she might end up being. She could've handled the relief of knowing that she was negative. But something had eaten away at her from the first moment she realized she could die from a disease that she didn't even know she had.
It was regret, unbelievably terrifying amounts of regret.
There had been so much more that she had wanted to do, so many things that she had wanted to say for so long and in one instant that was almost all taken from her. She recognized how close she was to the edge of a dangerous precipice.
And she realized that there would be no one there to catch her when she inevitably fell.
The thought made her choke again, gagging on the cries that refused to stop coming from her. The tears had stopped coming until she was just blinking rapidly against the dry, scratchiness of her eyes. Her fingers clawed at the back of her neck as the dry heaves gradually subsided. Loud, shaky gasps for breath were all that she could achieve, her body trembling from the physical and emotional toll.
The chill of a draft crept in from the window next to her as the goosebumps rose across her bare skin. The light covering of her t-shirt offered no protection but she didn't even notice. Her head rose slowly to look up above her, neck craning back as her reddened eyes seemed to search above for an answer that just wasn't there.
No God was going to help her now, not when she couldn't even help herself.
She closed her eyes, trying to will the pain away and hide in the comfort of the darkness surrounding her. Maybe if she could just not think, just not feel for a while and stay that way. Maybe then everything would be alright. Maybe then she could redeem herself and not feel as utterly empty as she did.
The loud knock on the door resonated through the apartment.
She didn't even move from her sorrowful position, knowing that standing on the other side of the door was the last person she wanted to see. Seeing him would just remind her of all that she didn't have.
And all that she ever wanted.
It was his voice that cut through her, startling her back to her painful reality. "Olivia?" It was that voice that she had melted over so many times, that had soothed her fears and doubts the few times that she'd let them be known. And he had no idea how much it was killing her to hear it now.
She knew he was concerned. Ever since they had found the AZT in Jeff's apartment he had constantly been hovering around her. She had felt his gaze on her every time that he had thought she wasn't looking. A small part of her had screamed for her to accept when he offered to take her to get tested. But, once again, her rational side had won out. Once again, she had pushed him away at just the time when she needed him so badly.
He knocked again, this time a little louder. "Olivia? C'mon I know you're in there." He couldn't possibly have seen any lights on or seen her come in, but somehow she knew that he wasn't lying. And she knew that he wouldn't go away until he was satisfied.
She sniffed once, trying to find a voice that would be controlled enough to pass for 'fine'. Dropping her head forward she turned it slightly to the door, letting her voice wander down the hallway. The strong, steady tone that she had so hope for failed her as she wearily choked out, "I'm fine Elliot. Please just go away."
Olivia heard him sigh loudly in disappointment, whether for her or himself she wasn't sure. She could almost hear him muttering 'Bullshit' to himself. Instead, his voice came through the door again pleading in an achingly soft voice, "Liv, please. Don't push me away." He paused before adding, "Not this time."
She didn't respond, didn't know how. Elliot was something that she'd been trying to avoid ever since she had found out about the results of her HIV test. The moment Warner (thank god for Melinda, she silently prayed) had told her, Olivia had finished up at the squad as quickly as possible. Elliot had been in with Abbott doing the last of the interrogations. Cragen had been more than happy to give her the rest of the evening off, telling her to take it easy and get a good night's sleep.
She had been exhausted once she'd gotten home but the moment had passed quickly once she'd shucked her work clothes and slipped into a pair of shorts and T-shirt. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her brain had kicked into overdrive and frozen the rest of her actions. And that's where she had remained even as the last of the last hints of sunlight disappeared over the horizon and night had crept stealthily in.
With a start, Olivia realized that there was no longer any sound coming from outside her door. The irritating banging had stopped, only to be replaced by a deafening silence. She had no idea whether or not he was still out there. Curiosity, and an undeniable urge for him, made her slowly rise from the bed. Her muscles ached in protest to the new movement but she ignored it and slowly made her way to the door, silent footsteps making their way across the cold bare floor.
"Liv?" His worried voice came through the door again and she jumped at the sudden sound.
"Yea, I'm here," she replied automatically and instantly wished that she hadn't. She was close enough so that he could hear her proximity to the other side of the door. Sighing lightly, she knew that she couldn't avoid him anymore. Wiping at her face in a vain attempt to hide the traces of her earlier actions, she ran her fingers once through her hair before grabbing for the doorknob, undoing the deadbolt and swinging the door open.
His eyes immediately found hers and she knew from his expression that her quick touchups a moment before had done little to help her disheveled appearance. His clothes were rumpled, his face etched deeply with concern, and a frantic look in his eyes. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought that he was falling apart. But then he smiled at her, offering a bit of support in the best way he knew how at the moment.
She couldn't have been happier to see him.
He studied her face, the reddened eyes and puffy cheeks. She sniffed lightly once again before she could get out a broken whisper of "El..."
She had meant to say something along the lines of "Thanks for coming" or "Good to see you", but nothing else would come. He broke the awkwardness of the silence and stepped forward to wrap his arms securely around her. She did the same, encircling her arms until her fingers clawed at the back of his leather jacket. Her face buried into the crook of his neck, muffling her shuddered breaths into his shirt.
They stood in the open doorway as he rocked her slowly, dancing the line between the light of the hallway and the darkness of her apartment. He surrounded her completely, his warm scent comforting her as if she needed an extra physical reminder of his actual presence. His fingers rubbed in long, smooth strokes up and down the length of her lean back as she slowly relaxed against him even more.
She couldn't see as his cheek nestled into her hair, him smelling the faint cleanness of her hair that he was still so worried he might never smell again. All he could think was 'She could be dying right here, right now, in my arms.' His eyes squeezed shut painfully at the thought of not being able to see her again, of not being able to give her the comfort she needed or receive her comfort in return. The barest of tears threatened to form as he swallowed the lump in his throat.
Finally, the only movement from her was the soft rise and fall of her chest as she breathed against him. He needed to know. It had been eating away at him for hours. Shifting his head closer down to her ear, he murmured, "Olivia, are you ok?"
She didn't know what to say. Her honest answer would have been no. Physically she was fine. No HIV, no AIDS. But mentally she was in a confusing emotional tailspin. She dodged the question, "I'm negative."
She could immediately feel his deep sigh, release of a breath that neither had been aware he was holding. "Thank God," he whispered, hands stilling their movements so he could pull her tightly to him. She almost felt like she was being crushed, but somehow didn't mind.
The contact was forbidden. A sign of weakness that she just couldn't afford to allow herself. But for once she just wanted to feel. To feel him.
He sighed again, more lightly this time and pulled back from her slowly. She lifted her head from its position on his neck and looked up at him, deep brown eyes a torrid of emotion. Elliot cupped either side of her face lightly in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over the tops of her cheeks and feeling the warm dampness of the last of her drying tears.
It was one of those times. They didn't happen often but when they did, it almost made him physically shake to hold it all in.
One of those moments where he knew if he kissed her, it would change everything. And maybe for the better. But he wasn't the one who could decide that. As much as he wanted to comfort her, to kiss her, touch her, and be with her, he knew that he couldn't. His obligation to his family wouldn't allow him to.
His eyes searched hers, looking for the sign that she might harbor the same emotions for him even deep down inside. For a moment, he could see it. Sparkling and fleeting, it was unmistakable. And then it was gone, hidden again behind the impassive mask that she had so painstakingly made for herself.
He tilted her head forward and placed a soft protective kiss on her forehead. She closed her eyes tightly to fight her desire as his lips pressed against her. His touch was hot, branding her with an invisible mark that she knew would always remain.
He broke away, lips lingering just a bit longer than necessary before they broke away and he looked at her again. She smiled thinly at him but he could see how it didn't quite reach her eyes. The troubled waters deep below were still stirring and it pained him that he couldn't quiet them for her.
"You didn't answer my question Liv," he prodded lightly. His detective side had not overlooked her earlier vague comment. "Are you ok?"
She wanted to nod. She even attempted it. But somehow her brain wasn't attached to the rest of her.
Olivia dejectedly shook her head. She bit her bottom lip, dropping her eyes to stare at the shirt on his chest. He waited patiently, thumbs still rubbing occasionally on her flushed cheeks. "It's just..." she faltered, voice trembling slightly. "When I thought, even for a second, that I could have HIV..." She paused, lifting her head up look at him again.
Her eyes were wide as she desperately asked him, "Have you ever looked back and realized opportunities that you missed? Knowing that, if you could do it all again, your life would be so much better if maybe you'd actually grabbed for exactly what you'd wanted?" She stopped, lowering her eyes from his shocked expression. Of course he wouldn't change anything. He had a wife and four children. He was Elliot Stabler.
"I'd change so much."
His harsh, whispered reply made her eyes look up at his again in surprise. His gaze bore in to hers as they stood inches apart. He was staring at her, willing her to understand even as she already knew exactly what he meant. Neither one could say it out loud, the scandalous words would taint the purity of what they shared.
Now, with their gazes locked, he elaborated. "Sometimes you can just feel that the road less taken by would have made all the difference. You can look back and see exactly where that fork in the road was where you made your wrong turn. And you can see the other point where you should've gone that would have redeemed you." His voice cracked as his gaze wavered, "But we can't ever go back Liv."
She noticed his change to 'we' and, against her will, her heart fluttered slightly. Olivia nodded slowly, feeling the warm skin of his hands rubbing across her jaw. "I know," she whispered, heartbreakingly quiet as they both realized everything that they could've had, but lost.
She pulling back, immediately wanting the soft warmth of his caress back but knowing that things couldn't go any further. His arms dropped back to his sides, the space once again forming between them as she stepped away in an attempt to bring the situation under control. Her eyes never lost contact with his and that was all that they had as they stood silent, neither quite sure of what to say.
Trying to escape the increased tension between them, she tore her eyes from his and stared at the wall beside her. "I appreciate you coming over here Elliot," her 'Olivia façade' returning, "but really, I'm fine. You should go home. Where you belong." Her final words came out a bit more bitter than she'd intended and she didn't see the flash of pain in his eyes at her comment
He stood on the threshold, lost as he looked at her. The light from the hallway illuminated the turned profile of her face. Her eyes were closed tightly in her refusal to look at him and he could almost imagine the forlorn expression that was hiding in them. He took a breath and lifted his hand, dropping it to his side again quickly.
It was a futile gesture that went unnoticed.
He turned and walked out the door, pulling it firmly shut behind him. The darkness engulfed her once again. What had once been comforting, now terrified her. From every corner the cold seeped in. She gasped loudly, throwing out her hands against the wall for support. Her knees buckled and almost sent her to the ground. Stumbling, she blindly walked back to her bedroom.
The bed was far too large and far too cold and she shivered as she slipped under heavy blankets that offered no warmth. She was coming apart. She could feel it. Even as she fought the invisible demons calling to her, she was quickly losing the inner battle.
Inevitably it would come, consume her. And she would defeat it as she always did. The question would be how long it would take... and how many scars it would leave this time around.
She shivered again and gasped for breath, drowning in the coldness that was permeating her skin; suffocating from the dark night weighing down on her. She had no idea that there were any tears left in her until the all too familiar sting came. She didn't even know entirely what it was from, the maelstrom of emotions far too confusing to sort out. Self-pity, loss, and loneliness seemed to dominate the rest and she wished for the first time that night that her fridge hadn't been empty of alcohol. She needed the sleep to come, to have the screaming stop.
Olivia buried her face in the pillow, praying for sleep to claim her. It never stopped though. The pain continued. The emotional downpour mercilessly sweeping her away into the terrifying abyss of her own mind.
She could feel it overpowering her, sucking her down to the depths.
Until a strong pair of arms came and pulled her roughly to the surface, gasping for breath.
She clung to him like a frightened child as he sat beside her on the bed. The warmth returned to her steadily, induced by the paths of Elliot's hands rubbing soothingly along her arms and back. He had reentered the apartment without her even realizing it. Her deadbolt was now locked securely, his jacket thrown over the back of a chair. When he'd walked in, he could hear her distress immediately. She was crying, gasping, caught in the torturous clutch of some waking nightmare.
It had taken only a few steps for him to reach her bed and scoop her up to his chest. She was so cold, shivering as the life slowly returned to her. Olivia whimpered. Her body twisted around until she was almost laying her full weight against him. He didn't mind and sank back to lie beside her on top of the comforter. Only her upper body was pressed against him, her lower limbs still tangled in the sheets.
She had stopped thrashing and he could tell that she was almost fully alert next to him as her fears subsided. Her breath pooled warmly against the fabric of his shirt. She sniffed.
"Elliot, why do you do this? Why can't you just let it go? Leave and let me go."
"I could never let you go Liv. After all, someone has to be there to catch you when you fall." Her breath hitched in her throat at his choice of words. "I'm your partner Olivia and I will be there in every way that I can for you. You can't get rid of me that easily. Partners are like blood, remember?"
She nodded silently against his chest before he shifted and she moved off him. She was comfortable with him sleeping on the couch. It would be a safe distance away from her, but close enough so that she would know he was there. Turning on her side and pulling the comforter up around her again, Olivia's back faced him. She could hear the muffled clonks as his shoes hit the rug. She heard the rustle of fabric sliding over fabric and knew that his shirt was joining his shoes. The next sound she anticipated was the opening of her closest door as he sought out blankets to make the sofa.
The creak of the door never came.
Instead the mattress dipped under his weight as he settled next to her. Before she could react, he was under the covers next to her with his arms wrapped around her waist. Pulling her tightly back against him he nestled his face into her dark hair as his legs pushed against hers, until they were intimately wrapped together. Layers of clothes still separated them but both felt every movement, every physical detail of the other as they pressed together.
He hadn't expected this. It had just kind of...happened. Somewhere in between planning to sleep on her sofa and actually getting there, his mind had taken a severe detour. It wasn't until after he had climbed in next to her that he had fully realized the extent of his actions... but by then it was too late.
She hadn't said a word to him yet and he held on to her tightly, afraid that if she pushed him away this time she'd never come back. Instead, her hands blindly reached for his, slipping their fingers together. Their two bodies molded together flawlessly, finally finding the satisfaction of their perfect complement.
"Elliot?" She whispered into the darkness.
"Yeah?"
"When you found out that you might had been infected," her voice was so small that he almost couldn't believe it came from the strong woman lying next to him, "were you scared?"
He bowed his head and rested his forehead against hers. "Yeah, I was."
"Of what?" She breathed.
"Of everything... of nothing." He sighed and his warm breath tickled the side of her neck. "It was the little things, ya know? Things that I shouldn't even have worried about. I should've been thinking about what would happen to the kids and to Kathy. And instead I was stuck on things that I couldn't even change." She sighed again, rubbing the top of his nose along the soft side of her neck. His voice was muffled against her shoulder. "There's just so that I regretted... so much I still do."
She felt his chest tighten against her back as he said it. As if to prove his point, Elliot moved his embrace a little lower, pulling her lower back against him. She could feel the obvious sign of his feelings for her as it pushed against her. Olivia closed her eyes, silently gasping as she felt him against her.
He waited, clearly awaiting her response. Still enjoying just the feel of him against her, she didn't react. Disappointed, he moved gently away from her whispering an apologetic "Sorry" into her ear.
She moved quickly, grabbing at his buttocks with her hands to hold him tightly against her. "Don't be," she murmured. "I'm not." She was shocked by such an uninhibited display of his feelings but thrilled in the knowledge that their feelings were mutual.
At her urging, he stayed where he was, resisting the temptation to untangle his fingers from hers and touch more of her body. To control his desire, he shifted and made sure that his hands were thoroughly held to hers. She sighed, relaxing into him and their newest position.
Elliot closed his eyes, reveling in the warm touch of her skin, the faint beating of her heart. He knew that every second that passed brought them closer to the end, where once again this intimacy they shared would be forbidden. It saddened and scared him at the same time.
Something was changing. He could feel it.
A new plane of understanding had been reached as they both realized how desperately they relied on one another. Her scare tonight had opened new floodgates that they had tried so valiantly to keep secure.
He hadn't lied. He would always be there to catch her when she fell.
His one hand unhooked from her grasp to lightly come up and idly brush the hair that framed her face. She had fallen asleep, finally falling prey to utter exhaustion, secure in the knowledge that he was there to protect her from her lurking terrors.
Her beautiful features were still haunted, although noticeably less so than when he'd first arrived. Behind her tough façade she was really just as fragile as the victims they helped. It was as if at one point she'd been broken and the pieces had never fit completely back together, never as strong as they had originally been. He traced the edge of her sleeping face with a finger. He would be there for her when she broke again. And this time he would make sure that she was entirely healed.
She thought she was so alone in the world and she couldn't be further from the truth.
"Don't worry," he whispered into her ear, "You will always have someone who loves you."
Closing his eyes he allowed himself to drift off, enjoying the perfection of her body against his for as long as he could.
Title: Broken Author: Icarus (aka Ice) Spoilers: Lowdown Summary: A missing scene from Lowdown that we ALL needed to see but of which we were deprived. Crap. Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm just a poor college student trying to procrastinate on work, hehe. Don't sue. Trust me, it wouldn't be worth it.
She had been sitting for hours before the first tears came.
Staring at the same spot on the worn floorboards, her mind racing tirelessly, she hadn't even realized she was awake until the first few drops burned their way down her cheeks. Tumbling over the smooth skin of her cheeks as they created minute salty rivers, the cold numbness that had overtaken her earlier washed away until she was shaking. The pain was setting in, emotional beyond belief, as her shoulders shook from her efforts to choke back her sobs.
A guttural cry ripped through her as she finally gave in, the flow of her tears soaking into her hands as she buried her face into her open palms. Her whole body wracked with tremors as she gasped for the air that wouldn't seem to come. She leaned forward, swiftly unfolding her legs from where they were tucked comfortably beneath her. Ignoring the sharp pinpricks of pain from her sleeping limbs, she placed them on the floor and leaned forward to rest her elbows on the tops of her knees.
Her wet fingers raked through her hair, pulling it back harshly as if it would help her to control her emotions yet again. Finally, she laced her fingers tightly around the back of her neck and held on. Loud, open mouthed sobs could be heard throughout the silence of her dark, empty apartment. The tears fell to the floor beneath her, creating the beginnings of small salty puddles; a testament to her emotional state.
She had come so close to dying. And it had snuck up on her so suddenly.
Olivia was used to being on guard. Always wary of a possible bullet or perp and always being completely acceptant of the fact. She had been ready to die, and had even come chillingly close to it before.
But never like this.
This was something that had been beyond her control. And she hated herself for it. She knew that she should be thankful, happy even, for what the end result had been. But she just couldn't bring herself to be.
For even as the relief washed through her she had felt something even sharper stab deeply at her insides, twisting until it almost made her scream.
For the first time in a long time, Olivia Benson was scared.
She was scared of what she had become and what she might end up being. She could've handled the relief of knowing that she was negative. But something had eaten away at her from the first moment she realized she could die from a disease that she didn't even know she had.
It was regret, unbelievably terrifying amounts of regret.
There had been so much more that she had wanted to do, so many things that she had wanted to say for so long and in one instant that was almost all taken from her. She recognized how close she was to the edge of a dangerous precipice.
And she realized that there would be no one there to catch her when she inevitably fell.
The thought made her choke again, gagging on the cries that refused to stop coming from her. The tears had stopped coming until she was just blinking rapidly against the dry, scratchiness of her eyes. Her fingers clawed at the back of her neck as the dry heaves gradually subsided. Loud, shaky gasps for breath were all that she could achieve, her body trembling from the physical and emotional toll.
The chill of a draft crept in from the window next to her as the goosebumps rose across her bare skin. The light covering of her t-shirt offered no protection but she didn't even notice. Her head rose slowly to look up above her, neck craning back as her reddened eyes seemed to search above for an answer that just wasn't there.
No God was going to help her now, not when she couldn't even help herself.
She closed her eyes, trying to will the pain away and hide in the comfort of the darkness surrounding her. Maybe if she could just not think, just not feel for a while and stay that way. Maybe then everything would be alright. Maybe then she could redeem herself and not feel as utterly empty as she did.
The loud knock on the door resonated through the apartment.
She didn't even move from her sorrowful position, knowing that standing on the other side of the door was the last person she wanted to see. Seeing him would just remind her of all that she didn't have.
And all that she ever wanted.
It was his voice that cut through her, startling her back to her painful reality. "Olivia?" It was that voice that she had melted over so many times, that had soothed her fears and doubts the few times that she'd let them be known. And he had no idea how much it was killing her to hear it now.
She knew he was concerned. Ever since they had found the AZT in Jeff's apartment he had constantly been hovering around her. She had felt his gaze on her every time that he had thought she wasn't looking. A small part of her had screamed for her to accept when he offered to take her to get tested. But, once again, her rational side had won out. Once again, she had pushed him away at just the time when she needed him so badly.
He knocked again, this time a little louder. "Olivia? C'mon I know you're in there." He couldn't possibly have seen any lights on or seen her come in, but somehow she knew that he wasn't lying. And she knew that he wouldn't go away until he was satisfied.
She sniffed once, trying to find a voice that would be controlled enough to pass for 'fine'. Dropping her head forward she turned it slightly to the door, letting her voice wander down the hallway. The strong, steady tone that she had so hope for failed her as she wearily choked out, "I'm fine Elliot. Please just go away."
Olivia heard him sigh loudly in disappointment, whether for her or himself she wasn't sure. She could almost hear him muttering 'Bullshit' to himself. Instead, his voice came through the door again pleading in an achingly soft voice, "Liv, please. Don't push me away." He paused before adding, "Not this time."
She didn't respond, didn't know how. Elliot was something that she'd been trying to avoid ever since she had found out about the results of her HIV test. The moment Warner (thank god for Melinda, she silently prayed) had told her, Olivia had finished up at the squad as quickly as possible. Elliot had been in with Abbott doing the last of the interrogations. Cragen had been more than happy to give her the rest of the evening off, telling her to take it easy and get a good night's sleep.
She had been exhausted once she'd gotten home but the moment had passed quickly once she'd shucked her work clothes and slipped into a pair of shorts and T-shirt. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her brain had kicked into overdrive and frozen the rest of her actions. And that's where she had remained even as the last of the last hints of sunlight disappeared over the horizon and night had crept stealthily in.
With a start, Olivia realized that there was no longer any sound coming from outside her door. The irritating banging had stopped, only to be replaced by a deafening silence. She had no idea whether or not he was still out there. Curiosity, and an undeniable urge for him, made her slowly rise from the bed. Her muscles ached in protest to the new movement but she ignored it and slowly made her way to the door, silent footsteps making their way across the cold bare floor.
"Liv?" His worried voice came through the door again and she jumped at the sudden sound.
"Yea, I'm here," she replied automatically and instantly wished that she hadn't. She was close enough so that he could hear her proximity to the other side of the door. Sighing lightly, she knew that she couldn't avoid him anymore. Wiping at her face in a vain attempt to hide the traces of her earlier actions, she ran her fingers once through her hair before grabbing for the doorknob, undoing the deadbolt and swinging the door open.
His eyes immediately found hers and she knew from his expression that her quick touchups a moment before had done little to help her disheveled appearance. His clothes were rumpled, his face etched deeply with concern, and a frantic look in his eyes. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought that he was falling apart. But then he smiled at her, offering a bit of support in the best way he knew how at the moment.
She couldn't have been happier to see him.
He studied her face, the reddened eyes and puffy cheeks. She sniffed lightly once again before she could get out a broken whisper of "El..."
She had meant to say something along the lines of "Thanks for coming" or "Good to see you", but nothing else would come. He broke the awkwardness of the silence and stepped forward to wrap his arms securely around her. She did the same, encircling her arms until her fingers clawed at the back of his leather jacket. Her face buried into the crook of his neck, muffling her shuddered breaths into his shirt.
They stood in the open doorway as he rocked her slowly, dancing the line between the light of the hallway and the darkness of her apartment. He surrounded her completely, his warm scent comforting her as if she needed an extra physical reminder of his actual presence. His fingers rubbed in long, smooth strokes up and down the length of her lean back as she slowly relaxed against him even more.
She couldn't see as his cheek nestled into her hair, him smelling the faint cleanness of her hair that he was still so worried he might never smell again. All he could think was 'She could be dying right here, right now, in my arms.' His eyes squeezed shut painfully at the thought of not being able to see her again, of not being able to give her the comfort she needed or receive her comfort in return. The barest of tears threatened to form as he swallowed the lump in his throat.
Finally, the only movement from her was the soft rise and fall of her chest as she breathed against him. He needed to know. It had been eating away at him for hours. Shifting his head closer down to her ear, he murmured, "Olivia, are you ok?"
She didn't know what to say. Her honest answer would have been no. Physically she was fine. No HIV, no AIDS. But mentally she was in a confusing emotional tailspin. She dodged the question, "I'm negative."
She could immediately feel his deep sigh, release of a breath that neither had been aware he was holding. "Thank God," he whispered, hands stilling their movements so he could pull her tightly to him. She almost felt like she was being crushed, but somehow didn't mind.
The contact was forbidden. A sign of weakness that she just couldn't afford to allow herself. But for once she just wanted to feel. To feel him.
He sighed again, more lightly this time and pulled back from her slowly. She lifted her head from its position on his neck and looked up at him, deep brown eyes a torrid of emotion. Elliot cupped either side of her face lightly in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over the tops of her cheeks and feeling the warm dampness of the last of her drying tears.
It was one of those times. They didn't happen often but when they did, it almost made him physically shake to hold it all in.
One of those moments where he knew if he kissed her, it would change everything. And maybe for the better. But he wasn't the one who could decide that. As much as he wanted to comfort her, to kiss her, touch her, and be with her, he knew that he couldn't. His obligation to his family wouldn't allow him to.
His eyes searched hers, looking for the sign that she might harbor the same emotions for him even deep down inside. For a moment, he could see it. Sparkling and fleeting, it was unmistakable. And then it was gone, hidden again behind the impassive mask that she had so painstakingly made for herself.
He tilted her head forward and placed a soft protective kiss on her forehead. She closed her eyes tightly to fight her desire as his lips pressed against her. His touch was hot, branding her with an invisible mark that she knew would always remain.
He broke away, lips lingering just a bit longer than necessary before they broke away and he looked at her again. She smiled thinly at him but he could see how it didn't quite reach her eyes. The troubled waters deep below were still stirring and it pained him that he couldn't quiet them for her.
"You didn't answer my question Liv," he prodded lightly. His detective side had not overlooked her earlier vague comment. "Are you ok?"
She wanted to nod. She even attempted it. But somehow her brain wasn't attached to the rest of her.
Olivia dejectedly shook her head. She bit her bottom lip, dropping her eyes to stare at the shirt on his chest. He waited patiently, thumbs still rubbing occasionally on her flushed cheeks. "It's just..." she faltered, voice trembling slightly. "When I thought, even for a second, that I could have HIV..." She paused, lifting her head up look at him again.
Her eyes were wide as she desperately asked him, "Have you ever looked back and realized opportunities that you missed? Knowing that, if you could do it all again, your life would be so much better if maybe you'd actually grabbed for exactly what you'd wanted?" She stopped, lowering her eyes from his shocked expression. Of course he wouldn't change anything. He had a wife and four children. He was Elliot Stabler.
"I'd change so much."
His harsh, whispered reply made her eyes look up at his again in surprise. His gaze bore in to hers as they stood inches apart. He was staring at her, willing her to understand even as she already knew exactly what he meant. Neither one could say it out loud, the scandalous words would taint the purity of what they shared.
Now, with their gazes locked, he elaborated. "Sometimes you can just feel that the road less taken by would have made all the difference. You can look back and see exactly where that fork in the road was where you made your wrong turn. And you can see the other point where you should've gone that would have redeemed you." His voice cracked as his gaze wavered, "But we can't ever go back Liv."
She noticed his change to 'we' and, against her will, her heart fluttered slightly. Olivia nodded slowly, feeling the warm skin of his hands rubbing across her jaw. "I know," she whispered, heartbreakingly quiet as they both realized everything that they could've had, but lost.
She pulling back, immediately wanting the soft warmth of his caress back but knowing that things couldn't go any further. His arms dropped back to his sides, the space once again forming between them as she stepped away in an attempt to bring the situation under control. Her eyes never lost contact with his and that was all that they had as they stood silent, neither quite sure of what to say.
Trying to escape the increased tension between them, she tore her eyes from his and stared at the wall beside her. "I appreciate you coming over here Elliot," her 'Olivia façade' returning, "but really, I'm fine. You should go home. Where you belong." Her final words came out a bit more bitter than she'd intended and she didn't see the flash of pain in his eyes at her comment
He stood on the threshold, lost as he looked at her. The light from the hallway illuminated the turned profile of her face. Her eyes were closed tightly in her refusal to look at him and he could almost imagine the forlorn expression that was hiding in them. He took a breath and lifted his hand, dropping it to his side again quickly.
It was a futile gesture that went unnoticed.
He turned and walked out the door, pulling it firmly shut behind him. The darkness engulfed her once again. What had once been comforting, now terrified her. From every corner the cold seeped in. She gasped loudly, throwing out her hands against the wall for support. Her knees buckled and almost sent her to the ground. Stumbling, she blindly walked back to her bedroom.
The bed was far too large and far too cold and she shivered as she slipped under heavy blankets that offered no warmth. She was coming apart. She could feel it. Even as she fought the invisible demons calling to her, she was quickly losing the inner battle.
Inevitably it would come, consume her. And she would defeat it as she always did. The question would be how long it would take... and how many scars it would leave this time around.
She shivered again and gasped for breath, drowning in the coldness that was permeating her skin; suffocating from the dark night weighing down on her. She had no idea that there were any tears left in her until the all too familiar sting came. She didn't even know entirely what it was from, the maelstrom of emotions far too confusing to sort out. Self-pity, loss, and loneliness seemed to dominate the rest and she wished for the first time that night that her fridge hadn't been empty of alcohol. She needed the sleep to come, to have the screaming stop.
Olivia buried her face in the pillow, praying for sleep to claim her. It never stopped though. The pain continued. The emotional downpour mercilessly sweeping her away into the terrifying abyss of her own mind.
She could feel it overpowering her, sucking her down to the depths.
Until a strong pair of arms came and pulled her roughly to the surface, gasping for breath.
She clung to him like a frightened child as he sat beside her on the bed. The warmth returned to her steadily, induced by the paths of Elliot's hands rubbing soothingly along her arms and back. He had reentered the apartment without her even realizing it. Her deadbolt was now locked securely, his jacket thrown over the back of a chair. When he'd walked in, he could hear her distress immediately. She was crying, gasping, caught in the torturous clutch of some waking nightmare.
It had taken only a few steps for him to reach her bed and scoop her up to his chest. She was so cold, shivering as the life slowly returned to her. Olivia whimpered. Her body twisted around until she was almost laying her full weight against him. He didn't mind and sank back to lie beside her on top of the comforter. Only her upper body was pressed against him, her lower limbs still tangled in the sheets.
She had stopped thrashing and he could tell that she was almost fully alert next to him as her fears subsided. Her breath pooled warmly against the fabric of his shirt. She sniffed.
"Elliot, why do you do this? Why can't you just let it go? Leave and let me go."
"I could never let you go Liv. After all, someone has to be there to catch you when you fall." Her breath hitched in her throat at his choice of words. "I'm your partner Olivia and I will be there in every way that I can for you. You can't get rid of me that easily. Partners are like blood, remember?"
She nodded silently against his chest before he shifted and she moved off him. She was comfortable with him sleeping on the couch. It would be a safe distance away from her, but close enough so that she would know he was there. Turning on her side and pulling the comforter up around her again, Olivia's back faced him. She could hear the muffled clonks as his shoes hit the rug. She heard the rustle of fabric sliding over fabric and knew that his shirt was joining his shoes. The next sound she anticipated was the opening of her closest door as he sought out blankets to make the sofa.
The creak of the door never came.
Instead the mattress dipped under his weight as he settled next to her. Before she could react, he was under the covers next to her with his arms wrapped around her waist. Pulling her tightly back against him he nestled his face into her dark hair as his legs pushed against hers, until they were intimately wrapped together. Layers of clothes still separated them but both felt every movement, every physical detail of the other as they pressed together.
He hadn't expected this. It had just kind of...happened. Somewhere in between planning to sleep on her sofa and actually getting there, his mind had taken a severe detour. It wasn't until after he had climbed in next to her that he had fully realized the extent of his actions... but by then it was too late.
She hadn't said a word to him yet and he held on to her tightly, afraid that if she pushed him away this time she'd never come back. Instead, her hands blindly reached for his, slipping their fingers together. Their two bodies molded together flawlessly, finally finding the satisfaction of their perfect complement.
"Elliot?" She whispered into the darkness.
"Yeah?"
"When you found out that you might had been infected," her voice was so small that he almost couldn't believe it came from the strong woman lying next to him, "were you scared?"
He bowed his head and rested his forehead against hers. "Yeah, I was."
"Of what?" She breathed.
"Of everything... of nothing." He sighed and his warm breath tickled the side of her neck. "It was the little things, ya know? Things that I shouldn't even have worried about. I should've been thinking about what would happen to the kids and to Kathy. And instead I was stuck on things that I couldn't even change." She sighed again, rubbing the top of his nose along the soft side of her neck. His voice was muffled against her shoulder. "There's just so that I regretted... so much I still do."
She felt his chest tighten against her back as he said it. As if to prove his point, Elliot moved his embrace a little lower, pulling her lower back against him. She could feel the obvious sign of his feelings for her as it pushed against her. Olivia closed her eyes, silently gasping as she felt him against her.
He waited, clearly awaiting her response. Still enjoying just the feel of him against her, she didn't react. Disappointed, he moved gently away from her whispering an apologetic "Sorry" into her ear.
She moved quickly, grabbing at his buttocks with her hands to hold him tightly against her. "Don't be," she murmured. "I'm not." She was shocked by such an uninhibited display of his feelings but thrilled in the knowledge that their feelings were mutual.
At her urging, he stayed where he was, resisting the temptation to untangle his fingers from hers and touch more of her body. To control his desire, he shifted and made sure that his hands were thoroughly held to hers. She sighed, relaxing into him and their newest position.
Elliot closed his eyes, reveling in the warm touch of her skin, the faint beating of her heart. He knew that every second that passed brought them closer to the end, where once again this intimacy they shared would be forbidden. It saddened and scared him at the same time.
Something was changing. He could feel it.
A new plane of understanding had been reached as they both realized how desperately they relied on one another. Her scare tonight had opened new floodgates that they had tried so valiantly to keep secure.
He hadn't lied. He would always be there to catch her when she fell.
His one hand unhooked from her grasp to lightly come up and idly brush the hair that framed her face. She had fallen asleep, finally falling prey to utter exhaustion, secure in the knowledge that he was there to protect her from her lurking terrors.
Her beautiful features were still haunted, although noticeably less so than when he'd first arrived. Behind her tough façade she was really just as fragile as the victims they helped. It was as if at one point she'd been broken and the pieces had never fit completely back together, never as strong as they had originally been. He traced the edge of her sleeping face with a finger. He would be there for her when she broke again. And this time he would make sure that she was entirely healed.
She thought she was so alone in the world and she couldn't be further from the truth.
"Don't worry," he whispered into her ear, "You will always have someone who loves you."
Closing his eyes he allowed himself to drift off, enjoying the perfection of her body against his for as long as he could.
