Head Case

One Week after the last chapter.

After their first evening of pure bliss, Elliot hadn't seen Olivia in over a week. He listened to Munch go on and on about politics, while his gazed fixated onto Olivia's empty desk.

Munch read the paper aloud as the unit bustled into their morning schedules. "'I'm Christian, I was sworn in on the bible, and I pledge allegiance to the flag.' That's supposed to make me want to elect him as our president?"

"You got a problem with the flag," Elliot answered on the square.

"I didn't realize that the definition of religious freedom was, Christianity."

"Did somebody say Primary Election? Cause, damn, I forgot to put in my vacation time," Fin said throwing Munch a look.

Munch took his glare as a cue to continue and he lifted the black glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"It flabbergasts me that this country is becoming everything that the founders were running from; high taxes and religious segregation."

"Tell us how you really feel," Chester smiled.

"Come on, besides JFK, who was Catholic, still Christian, every president has been of Protestant practices."

"This is true," Elliot berated. "but I didn't vote for JFK so it doesn't count."

"You couldn't vote for JFK, otherwise you would have."

"I would vote for a non-Christian candidate if there were any and if they were for the issues I agree with."

"Why do we even need to know their religious background? What happened to the real issues?" Chester added with his head only slightly in the conversation and the rest of his body working endlessly on a stack of files.

Munch harrumphed at his desk. "Real issues? We're the land of the free, yet Barrak Obama isn't allowed to be Muslim and the leader of the United States of America."

"Who says he isn't allowed to be Muslim," Fin pipped.

Munch flipped the newspaper into a square mess and threw it into the trash can. "Apparently the Internet."

Casey clopped into the office and handed Lake a file pertaining to a new case. "I personally, want Hilary to win just so that they can ask her how many dicks she has hidden under that stiff skirt of hers."

Munch sighed. "Does anybody do their job anymore?"

"Speaking of jobs." Cragen entered from his office and interrupted the conversation. "Nice work in Montreal, Lake. I realize the woodsman case was a tough one for everyone to get through. Liv, is going to be out for a few days, so I want Fin and Lake to take a case that just came in. Elliot and Munch, we got another visit from that crazy woman accusing Judge Turpin of molestation."

"Yeah, I checked up on that a week ago. The woman is nuts," Elliot replied. "Why is Liv out?"

"Shouldn't you know?"

Elliot clammed up and just nodded, the truth was, she hadn't answered her phone in over a week. Just a text saying she was back and safe and that she'd call when she got a chance.

Cragen moved onto details about their mystery molester Judge and they headed out to get more information from her. The whole day Olivia was on Elliot's mind.

SCENE. Olivia's Apartment.

Olivia stayed in her bed with a migraine. In a matter of five days she'd gone through hell and back.

While Elliot was on a case in NYC with Munch, she and Lake, plus a few feds caught the woodsmen in Canada, coming very close to being mummified herself. The raid didn't go as planned and Olivia found herself trapped in a wooden coffin for hours before Lake and Erica ripped open the lid. Erica Christianson got it the worst of them all as she watched him snap the neck of her own daughter and then eat the end of her gun that night when they got back to the hotel.

Olivia came down hard on herself for not being able to do more, but the truth was, Dean Porter had sold his team down the river when allowed his phone to be breached, and the operation was a catastrophic nightmare. She kept having flashbacks of Erica screaming and the face of that little girl. And her migraines were coming on all of the time. Not just during a stressful day of a rainstorm, but every waking minute of the day. She was going through Tylenol like it was candy, and she herself had danced with the idea of suicide more times than she cared to admit, and the combination of ptsd and head throbbing was lethal.

It had only been two days but the alone time had opened a closet full of fears within her. She was sure that part of her emotional anxiety was caused by the change in her life with Elliot. She'd been so ready to love him, but the chaos made the choice now uncertain.

She had everything and nothing to lose. And controlling the situation seemed to make things worse.

She chose her free time to do nothing but think and cry. Had Elliot known he would have given her that wrinkled brow of concern and disappointment.

"You should have called to me."

There was no use calling him to cry over the phone. That was something she'd rather do in therapy and alone. That and once a person has spent forty years of her life getting over things on her own, it was hard to lean on anyone else. She needed her space in moments like these.

Besides, relationships based on intense situations never lasted…. according to Casey and that movie with Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves.

She needed to know that she could trust the situation, but until then, life would have to remain an out of control bus with a time bomb attached to it.

She could only hope that if the bomb did go off that she wasn't the one pulling its' trigger.

Already she was feeling unworthy of his love when he texted before work ",Hey sweetheart, I'm running late, so I'll just meet you at the office. Can't wait to see you."

She smiled. He called her sweetheart. She replied with a heart emoji.

That was all she could text.

She didn't have it in her to tell him she wouldn't be in today. She didn't want to explain the whole thing over a seven am phone conversation.

"I missed you."

Was his last text and she read it over and over again throughout the day.

Life was moving so quickly. It was like she'd waited her whole life for family and children to happen and it was happening all at once.

He called her again and left a voice mail at lunch time, while she was napping.

"Why didn't you tell me you weren't coming to work? Let me know if I can bring you anything."

It was now dinner time and Elliot called again.

"Hey, Did I do something wrong? I'm worried, can you call me back?"

She was too depressed to move and her head was throbbing she could barely open her eyes.

Some time passed and there was a knock on her door.

"Liv, it's Elliot, open up."

She stumbled to the door and opened it to let him in.

"Hey…," Elliot said. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah…yeah…I'm just….have a migraine."

"Okay, how about you sit down and I'll make you some tea."

She leaned on the counter dizzy. "No. No. Don't worry about it. You haven't seen your kids all day, you should go, and I'll call you tomorrow."

He helped her to the couch. "Have you eaten anything today?"

"Mmmm…I don't know. I'm fine."

"I'll make you some soup," he insisted.

"Your kids-" she protested.

"-are fine. Kathy came back. She has them. I'm back at my old apartment. I guess it was a god send that I couldn't find someone to take over the lease. Just sit. I got you."

She lay back with a pillow over her face while Elliot banged pots in the kitchen. The noise made her flinch and groan, but when he sat down with the soup her stomach gurgled and she was glad he was here.

He sat on the other couch nervous to ask her anything. He just waited for her lead.

"This is good. I missed you."

Those words were like air. He could breathe again just hearing them.

"That's a relief. You had me worried when you went silent all week."

"I wanted to call. I…I was-"

"Working. I get it. And I missed you too."

She wanted to say she had been wrapped in a death spa blanket and trapped in a box for 3 days, but reliving it while looking him in the face, wasn't something she was ready for.

And then a wave of nausea came over her and she ran for the bathroom.

Elliot could hear her vomiting and waited. "Liv, you okay?"

She sat clenched in a ball, her eyes closed, and her hands holding the side of her head. The pain was unbearable. "I think….I think I need to go to the hospital."

"What's going on?"

"I'm not sure. My head…,"

"Can I come in?"

He lifted her up and they headed for the car.