Alex sits down on one of the black leather couches of the hotel suite. She'd been hidden in Chelsea, a particularly arbitrary place for them to put her. She didn't mind, really, except for the fact that it felt permanent though it wasn't. In a week, she'd be home. The threat would be abated, Zapata would be in jail.

Until then, a guard stood outside the door and another was downstairs. Olivia had been assigned to stay with her and Elliot refused to leave. So they were there, too. Elliot had gotten a cot to be placed in the sitting area. Olivia and Alex were sharing the overly large bed in the other room.

Now it is past two in the morning and Olivia has long since fallen asleep. Alex assessed Olivia's position as she left the room: the arm across her stomach, the other thrown above her head. Alex had watched the hand on her side gently rise and fall a few times with her breath. It was comforting, watching her breathe, knowing Olivia was alive. Like she was. Like Elliot was.

They'd get through this, the three of them. They could make it through anything.

She looks at Elliot stretched out on his side, his back turned towards the bedroom door and her. His body is too long for the cot. Even with his knees slightly bent, his feet hang off the edge.

The leather groans when she sits and his body tenses immediately. He shifts and places his hand, instinctively, closer to his gun on the end table nearest him.

"Elliot, it's just me," she says, softly. He visibly relaxes, if only slightly and he turns to her.

"What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep."

He motions for her to join him on the edge of the cot. "Me neither."

"I didn't wake you?"

"I've been staring at the door."

"Why?"

He shrugs. "I don't know." He takes one of her hands. "You're trembling."

"I'm... a little cold." She lies. She doesn't want to worry him.

Elliot reaches down to the end of his makeshift bed for the blanket and wraps it around her shoulders. It's the most physical contact she's had with him in months.

"You should be home. It's not your job to protect me."

He kisses her temple, chastely. "Haven't we had this conversation before?" He almost smiles.

"This is my fight now."

"We work together. It's our fight, Alex."

"What if--?" The thousands of possibilities leave her without words.

"I'm not walking away unless you do."

She shakes her head. She's can't and he has to. If anything went wrong... if what happened to Donovan happened to him... She couldn't look at Kathy and his kids. She couldn't explain that it was his choice. Because it wasn't. He was doing this for her. Because he cared about her at one time.

She would never forgive herself.

"You can't do this for me."

He forces another smile. "Who said I was?"