Paper Faces

Elliot sat next to Olivia in the hospital. They'd been taken to a corner of the ER where Olivia was told to sit on a high table in a paper robe. Their corner wasn't quite a room, but it was sectioned off from other patients. After the nurse left them, they waited for the doctor. Phil Collins muzak played from the hospital radio and Olivia scrunched her eyes trying to make the bounding of her brain to turn off.

Elliot played with the plastic ear, nose, and throat chart and laughed.

"What's so funny," Olivia mumbled.

"Ah, nothing, this song. Every time I hear it, it reminds me of middle school and the roller skating rink."

Olivia, who had lay back onto the table, rolled her head to the side and gave him a scrunched expression.

He continued. "My mother forced my sisters to take me to the roller rink with them when they were in high school. It was her way of spying on them when she wasn't around. But I think I got more action then they ever did. I remember I met this girl there. My first kiss. We held hands for weeks and then one day we'd rounded the curve of the rink three times and she pulled me to the corner. We kissed to this song. My first kiss. " He chortled a bit and noticed Olivia was giving him a strange painful glare. "I must not have been good at it though, because that was the last time I saw her."

Olivia forced a parcial smile and placed her hands back over her eyes.

Elliot lightly rubbed her head and tried not to feel worried. He then began to sing softly.

"Take a look at me nooooow. There's just an empty space. There's nothing left here to remind me. Just the memory of your face. OH TAKE A LOOK AT ME-"

"ELLIOT!"

He snapped out of it and placed the innerds of plastic sinus cavities back onto the doctor's counter. "Sorry. How you doing?"

She lifted herself from the table and sighed before jumping from her spot.

"Crappy. I hate this," she said as she sat up and put her head between her knees.

Elliot quietly watched her from the chair. "I know. Frankly, I'm surprised it was your idea to come in the first place. Usually I have to wait until you're unconscious to bring you to the hospital."

She mumbled through her hands ",That's not funny."

"Sorry."

"I hate the smell in here. I hate waiting. I hate that I have to wear this robe just so they can check my head. Really, what is the point of this robe?"

"Well, I like it," Elliot replied, trying an attempt at light hearted flirtation.

The fire erupting from her already feverish face gave him the impression that she wasn't amused.

"I'll shut up. The robe is just procedure."

She stretched her neck and got up from the table to pace the tiny room. The tip of her finger went straight to her lips where she toyed with the hangnail she'd created in the waiting room.

"Procedure. I'm not a fan of that word either right now."

Elliot, who was doing his best to ignore her mood, concentrated on the diabetes poster in front of him, as he listened to her go on in irritation. Slowly he turned his focus to her anxiety trying to figure out why she was having this meltdown. "Liv, take a six count breath and sit…."

"I can't!"

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because?"

Her eyes flicked toward the hallway and she poked her head around the corner. "Because that doctor is going to come in here and I already know what he's going to say. So waiting here, is…pointless!"

His eyes were creating that skull-boring glare. Like he knew what she was thinking and he was disappointed that she couldn't' talk about it. She couldn't stand that glare in moments like this. "What?"

"What, What? I'm just listening."

Olivia shifted her eyes back at him in an angered rage. "If you're going to push my buttons, then just leave. You're making this worse."

"I'm merely sitting here."

Again Olivia paced. Her foot landing with the rhythm of electronic beats and jazz horns. "And this music…is terrible. When did hospitals decide muzac in an ER room was soothing? We should just leave. The meds they gave me are working. Maybe I'll just get a prescription and call it a day."

"It must be really hard to keep that all bottled up inside," Elliot mused, waiting for her to cave. "Worse then just letting it all out."

"Oh, because you've never lived in denial."

Elliot loved to watch Olivia swim in the secrets she thought she hid so well. She was like a little girl trying to avoid the obvious. Every stubborn twitch was like an open book into her mind. She restlessly ignored his patience, but he leaned in and touched her hand. Slowly the wet nail, she'd been biting on limped into his palm and her eyes met with his.

"Liv, Lake told me what happened. It's okay. We're going to work on this together. You'll go to therapy. You're not alone anymore."

"First of all, that wasn't Lake's story to tell. But also, that's not why I'm upset," she whispered.

"Sweetheart you're not the only cop who's had PSD.. Hell, why do you think I went back to Kathy after that case Munch and I did 2 years ago? I had to keep my gun at work for two weeks. I was afraid to take it home."

"Elliot, really, that has nothing to do with, this. And you never told me that."

His eyes flickered away from hers. He'd never told anyone he'd had suicidal thoughts before. "I know, but I should have. Would have made my life easier. It's not something I wanted to admit. Look at you, you've made yourself sick over it and you still won't talk to me."

Now it was her turn to look away. "Maybe."

"So?"

She looked at him. He was calm, understanding, pleasant even. It was the right time to say it. "So that's not what I need to talk about."

"Well, what then?"

Her lengthy pause was all he needed to know that she was holding onto more than a case.

"Liv, tell me."

"I...oh god, Elliot," she sighed heavily. The cage of her ribs collapsed into a hunch and the pacing triple stepped to a halt. "Elliot, I have a tumor."

Her thoughts slurred out of her mouth in a muffled fit of sounds as she wiped her eyes and turned her face away from his. He definitely wasn't ready for that kind of response. Standing up, he stood in silent shock and she continued. "My CT Scan after the accident showed that I…something's there. They gave me a few radiation treatments…"

The wrinkle between Elliot's eyes formed as he listened to her speak. She could feel him tighten in his shoes.

"They are pretty sure is benign…non-cancerous, but I've been avoiding surgery and the tests. I was supposed to go in for more tests after I recovered. I was supposed to schedule a surgery, but I couldn't. Everything happened all at once and I wanted to tell you, but I didn't. The doctors said it would be a simple prodcee- surgery and I'd be as good as new…if it is indeed…benign."

She watched his eyes roll into an unfocused haze.

"Elliot?"

As if he were caught in his own world he mumbled the words from his mouth. "Brain surgery. You'd be having Brain Surgery."

"Yeah…a small surgery. Brain surgery. Small Brain…surgery. Not a big deal, though."

And then the focus came back. "Olivia, that's a huge deal!"

"It's not cancerous."

"It doesn't matter. When were you going to tell me this, before or after the doctor comes in here and scoops your brain out?! Were you ever going to tell me this?"

"I wanted to make sure I wasn't going to be a burden to anyone and the headaches did stop for awhile, so I thought it was…over. And of course, I was going to tell you. I just needed some time to work everything out. The stress of that last case must have…" Flashes of the box and the woodsman came crashing in on her. She clenched her eyes shut and Elliot pulled her into his solid chest.

"Shhh…it's okay. You don't have to explain. It's okay."

"There's to much stress," she sobbed.

"You have to take care of this today, Liv."

"I know," she sobbed.

He lifted her gaze to his cold hard stare. "I'm serious. My sister died of brain cancer when she was twenty nine. I never told you that, but there it is, and it is a big deal."

"Elliot, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

He pulled away from her and slowly paced now too. He ruffled his hair in frustration. "It's okay, but you should have told me."

"I know. I should have taken care of it. I should have told you-"

"What if something happened while you were gone? What if it's gotten worse? What if you were on a job and it caused you to lose a life? What if-"

"OH what if , WHAT IF! Elliot, stop it! You act like I haven't been taking care of myself my whole adult life! I'm a big girl, Elliot. I can handle a little brain surgery!"

The sounds of the hospital around them had gotten unusually quiet as the fight grew to loud volumes. A nurse and a guy in a wheelchair made their way past the curtains and stared as they rolled by.

"You're being selfish, Olivia. I could lose you to something like this," Elliot roared in a breathy whisper. "And what about you? You want to do this alone? Would it be so terrible for you to let me help you! It's insulting!"

"Insulting? Let you help me?! I'll let you help me when you stop stepping on my toes all of the time. You need to allow me to fight my own battles. I couldn't refuse your help if I wanted to! You're always there!"

"And when I wasn't look what happened!"

Olivia's eyes grew as wide as the sea and she stepped around him in an unbalanced rage.

"WHAT!? What are you saying? What did Lake tell you? Did he say it was my fault that a psycho caught me off guard and locked me in a coffin for three days? That is was my fault that Erica's daughter was slashed in front of me before that happened and that I then was too selfish to keep Erica from killing herself! Because he was there too! I can't save everyone!"

"No, Liv," Elliot whispered softly, realizing that he was being irrational. "I'm sorry. You're right. I wish you would have told me about the tumor, but I don't want to fight. And if you need to be alone in this…you know I would give you that space."

She violently wiped the tears away and took a step backwards. Her arms fell to her lap and she looked up in sullen defeat. He sat across from her. The small corner of the hospital was now beginning to feel enormous. She could feel the tight strands of her insides twisting for him to understand.

"Elliot, I'm sorry. I don't know how to accept help. I don't know how to let you in. I'm out of my league with you…like this. Out of my role." She stopped and held his eyes, which were somewhere between forgiving and disappointed, then continued to gain momentum for what needed to be said.

"I…know what you want me to say and this is …so stupid. I don't know why I can't say this to you. Of all people to rely on, you should be the first person I fall to, right? You, of all people, owe me. And ah, I just….I….need you and I should have told you the second I knew. So I'm telling you now. I need help. I need you."

She waited in the taciturn of the conversation. He was at a stand still. A silence. The pause was indicating an end, but Olivia hadn't owned up to her spotlight dance. Like a true gentleman, he waited for her to finish so that he could take the lead.

"I don't know what else to say… Please, say something," she begged.

He turned his head and continued to torture her with silence.

"This whole thing has me freaked out," She continued. "So you being the grounded half would be a real plus as of pronto. Meaning, I've said it and I mean it. I need you and I'm admitting to it…you know that's gotta mean something, right? Because I would never openly admit that I needed a man unless I were in dire straits or helplessly in love with you, which I am."

She paused again, and still sat unresponsive.

"Will you please –look at me…Say something! Elliot, if you don't hold me already I'm gonna cry again and people will start to think we're one of those abusive couples."

Tears hypocritically rolled down her cheeks as she pretended they were making up and not breaking up.

"And if people start to think we're one of those Berko couples, I'll have to make you angry by telling you that you weren't good enough, even though you were more than good enough, and I'll die alone right here in this awful paper robe, all because I was too stubborn and proud to admit that I needed of your love. Then if that happens we'll have to admit that we were only meant to jump the shark, when really we were meant to beat the shark. They'll all say 'I told you so', and they'll snub their noses at our laughable attempt at making our personal lives entwine like a pair of teenagers, who believe in soul mates. I'll have to yell and point, and scream. I'll scream, Elliot. If you don't say something I'll scream at the throb in my head 'I have a tumor! I HAVE A TUMOR!' And the whole hospital will inevitably feel bad for me because of it, when really they should feel bad for you. Because really, I'm the problem! I'm the abnormal growth blocking the function of our oh-so-dysfunctional personal lives! ME! If I hadn't been such a hard ass you might have been able to ask me out years ago. You might have been able to hold your gaze longer than the confines of an interrogation and I might not have gotten jealous of all those other women that you kissed before me and during me and after me and then during me…again. Which I'm still made about, by the way. And if I had any sense at all I would be begging you to forgive my senseless behavior by telling you that I love you every minute of the day. Every second that I have a chance to say it. I love you, Elliot. And please don't let me go through this alone in my overrated manhattan apartment."

Olivia was blubbering through endless drops of tears.

Somewhere in the thick of the monolog Elliot had realized if he stayed silent she would get it all out and life could move on more smoothly. Her crisis was also his. He stopped her from going any further and lifted her from the chair she'd weakly fumbled into. All of the times he'd thought that Olivia was in control of their relationship, he'd failed to realize that maybe, just maybe, it was the other way around. She'd become so aggressively dependent over the years. All these years he'd held her life at bay without even taking notice. He'd thought she was just being stubborn and insecure, but really she was proving herself to him. Trying to make him see. Her anger was a façade covering the delicate face that sat before him now. Without her mask she was lost or reborn…both. How do you solve a problem like Olivia? There in his arms was the first honest step he'd seen her take in her.. He held her head to his shoulder and caressed her brown silky hair ever so gently.

Softly he whispered over and over again. "We're okay. We're okay. We're okay."