How Does it Feel
Chapter 10
Disclaimer: Well, if you don't know by now, then I'll say it again. They're...not...mine.
"ELLIOT," Olivia woke up in a panic, screaming, and dripping sweat. It took her a moment to catch her breath and her bearings; she'd had yet another nightmare to leave her feeling unnerved. Her body was still trembling as she slid out of the bed and padded across the bedroom floor into the bathroom. She splashed some cold water on her face, in hope of it waking her up and leaving the dream just that, a dream. Though her attempt was a good one, it failed. It seemed that nothing would be getting rid of these dreams, at least for a while.
She decided coffee would be best and quickly made her way into the kitchen, making sure to leave a light on as she walked through the dark hallway...she hated what the last few days had turned her into, a scared, broken woman. It occurred to her that the only night in the past week that she hadn't had a nightmare was the night before, when she had stayed with Elliot in his hospital bed. It looked like she had yet another thing to depend on him for. She wasn't too found of that, either.
As she sipped on her coffee a faint red glow caught her attention, the answering machine. She had forgotten about it. She stared at it a moment, wondering who would have called her home, and upon receiving no answer just left a message instead of calling her cell, which everybody who mattered knew was always on. Maybe it was a tele-marketer; she mused, taking one last sip of her too-strong coffee. Deciding to find out for certain she made the short trip from the kitchen counter she was at to the answering machine just across the room.
She pressed the "play" button and waited for the machine's voice to penetrate the silence; "you have two messages. Message one, received at 10:32 am Thursday,"
"Ms. Benson, this is James Travis with Telecom America, I would like to give you--"
She sighed to herself and pressed the erase button.
"Message erased," came the cold, indifferent voice of the answering machine. "Message two, received at 5:17 PM Thursday,"
"Stay away from my husband," Olivia felt a shiver pass through her body, the voice on the other end was very pissed off, "you hear me, you tramp. Stay away from him. I don't want to see you in his hospital room, I don't want your number on his cell-phone, and I don't want to have to hear him ask where you are one more time. Elliot is mine; you keep your filthy hands off of him, you dirty whore. Don't think for one second that our marriage is over, it's not, and if you come near him again I swear I'll kill you myself."
"End of messages."
Olivia just stood, staring at the phone, her jaw dropped. There was no doubt about it, the message had been left by one Kathy Stabler, but the voice on that machine and the voice that she knew Kathy to use in everyday life was extremely different. Kathy's voice was normally warm, careful, and kind. The voice she heard coming from that machine was dark, raspy, and vengeful, the rage in her voice palpable. It was the voice of a woman scored.
But, she mused, hadn't it been Kathy's idea for the break-up? Hadn't she been the one to take the first steps to divorce by leaving, going to her mothers, and taking the children with her? Then again, wasn't it a woman's prerogative to change her mind? Though, Elliot had told her that there was no way he was going back to his wife, even before admitting his love to her, their marriage had been over for many years. The split-up had been a long time coming.
It was a long while before she shifted positions, the strain of standing on her bare feet for too long becoming a bit annoying. Finally, her own rage started to set in, who was Kathy to tell her what she could or couldn't do? Yes, it was true, she was his wife, but Olivia was his partner! What did Kathy think she could do to keep them apart? They had to see each other, they worked together. Kathy had gone too far with that one. There was nothing she could tell her to keep her from seeing Elliot, she could threaten her life all she wanted, the fact of the matter was Olivia wasn't afraid of Kathy, she had the training to defend herself if need be. And she doubted that Kathy would even consider going through with her threat.
She glanced at the microwave clock; it was only 3:57. She sighed to herself, it was already a bad day and it was only a few minutes shy of four hours into the morning. She erased the threatening message and poured herself another cup of coffee, ignoring the fact that it was way to strong to taste good. She didn't care, the only thing that mattered to her was it was hot, and doing it's job in waking her up. Though it was failing at helping her to forget her dream. She finally excepted nothing was going to help to fade that dream into nothing more than a bad memory.
She sat down on couch, pulling her feet underneath her body, and turned the TV on with the remote. She flipped through channel after channel of infomercials and felt her eyes starting to droop, sleep was once again within arms reach, and she wasn't going to miss the opportunity, bad dreams or no. She muted the television and stretched out on the couch, pulling a maroon afghan over her legs and stomach. It was only minutes before sleep once again took over.
She woke up to the ringing of the telephone, thanking God she hadn't been awoken to another horrible nightmare. She quickly padded across the living room and grabbed her cordless off of it's wall-mount. "Benson," she sighed into the phone.
It was Elliot, "good morning."
"Maybe for you," she snorted.
His voice filled with concern, "what's wrong? Did you have another dream?"
She nodded all though she knew he wouldn't see, "yeah. I don't want to talk about it, Elliot. Did you want something?"
"Just to talk, it's lonely over here. I miss you."
She smiled to herself, "stop being such a sissy-boy. A few hours alone isn't going to hurt you."
"You've got today off, don't you? Come see me."
"Are you sure? Is Kathy coming?"
"What does it matter?"
She sighed, "never mind. Let me shower, I'll be over in a little bit, all right?"
"Sounds good to me, see you then."
She hung up the phone and made her way into the bathroom. Turning it on as hot as she could she undressed and slipped under the water. Her aching muscles were soothed under the pressure; through she could feel a headache threatening to form. She made a mental note to take some Advil after she finished with her shower. When her hands had become too pruny for her liking she turned off the water and quickly grabbed a towel to shield her from the freezing air. When she stepped out of the shower, shivering. The air stung at bare skin and she practically ran into her bedroom to change. After putting on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and sneakers she took some medicine and started off for the hospital.
Elliot was waiting eagerly when she arrived; his face lit up when she entered the room. "Finally, I've been awake for nearly 3 hours with nobody to talk to."
"Here I was thinking that you were just happy to see me and it turns out that you'd be happy to see anybody."
His face broke out in a grin; one of those she knew was reserved for her and only her, "don't be silly. Of course I'm happy that it's you, who else is gonna give me a good-morning kiss."
"Oh, that's all I'm good for, huh? Good-night and good-morning kisses?" She joked.
"Of course not, there's always good-afternoon," his grin grew as the banter continued on.
"Keep that up and you won't get any kisses, good-morning, good-afternoon, or good-night."
He stuck out his lower lip and folded his arms over his chest, "fine."
She laughed and pulled a chair up next to his bed, "with a face like that how could I resist?"
He shrugged, "it's impossible." She leaned over the railing of the bed and gave him a quick kiss. "That's it?"
She rolled her eyes, "don't get too greedy there, bud."
He threw his hands up in mock defense, "all right, all right, just don't take my kisses away. I don't think I could live without them."
She rolled her eyes at him. "You're lucky I love you."
He took her hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze; "you don't have to tell me twice. I already know how lucky I am. I love you too."
Neither one of them noticed the very pissed off blonde standing right outside the hospital room, only a slightly cracked open door separating her and the other two, who were too caught up in each other to even notice as she stormed off, headed for the office of Captain Cragean.
A/n: Since I was asked I tried to get this out quickly, but I'm so, so, so sore from powderpuff practice. My coach is a slave driver, and running is the devil's doing, let me tell you. Anyway...let me know what'cha think.