Trigger Warning: Conversation about the William Lewis saga
Prompt #38: Olivia and Elliot go undercover as a married couple to lure the Italian mafia and trafficker out. Their feelings grow as they fake their PDA.
Facade (That We Once Played)
•••
Olivia never thought she'd see the day she went undercover with Elliot Stabler again. It happened plenty of times during their partnership, enough that the roles they played became second nature to both of them.
Then he left without so much as a goodbye thirteen years into their partnership, putting a stop to those undercover ops, to late-night stakeouts, long talks, and friendship. As the months slipped into years, Olivia slowly accepted that Elliot was no longer in her life, and neither were any of the things they'd built their partnership on.
But they are, for the first time in over a decade, going undercover again.
Together.
Undercover in a safe house made out to look like a happily married couple's home.
Alone.
They don't even work in the same department, but the same case found its way onto both of their radars, an Italian mob suspected of human trafficking and selling stolen pharmaceuticals and weapons.
She doesn't get why the higher-ups insisted that she take the case on herself instead of assigning a detective to it, but the order was made loud and clear along with some explanation that she and Elliot paired together had the best shot at taking down the mob.
And it shouldn't bother her, shouldn't worry her that she's going to be undercover alone with her former partner for the first time in eleven years, but in some strange way, it does.
She's forgiven him for leaving, against every urge she'd ever had to turn her back, to not let him back into her life after he turned it upside down.
But if she's truly honest with herself, she's known from the moment she laid eyes on him for the first time in ten years that she still trusts him.
Their relationship isn't what it was before, and she's not entirely sure what it's supposed to be or what direction they're taking. For the moment, she's content with being friends again.
For now.
She's waiting outside her apartment complex with Lucy and Noah when Elliot pulls up to the curb in a sleek black Sedan loaned to them for their assignment. He puts the car in park and climbs out.
"You ready?" he asks, and then he notices she's not alone and gives Noah a smile. "Hey, Noah."
They've only met once, almost two months ago when he invited them to his apartment for a family gathering. He hadn't had much of a chance to interact with Noah since he had spent most of the evening putting together Legos with Maureen's boys and Eli.
"Hey," Noah echoes, giving him a shy nod. "I had fun at your house."
Elliot smiles again. "Glad to hear it." Then he turns to Olivia and gestures to the bag in her hand. "Want me to get that?"
"Thank you." Olivia passes him the bag. As Elliot stashes it in the trunk, Olivia turns to Noah and holds her arms out to him. "Give me a hug, baby. I'll miss you."
Stepping forward, Noah hugs his mom and wraps his arms around her waist. "When will you be back?"
"I'm hoping within a couple of days, latest by the end of the week," she promises, running a hand through his messy hair and returning his hug. Between Amanda and Lucy, she'll have Noah well supervised, but she still doesn't like to leave him for more than a night.
"Oh." He nods against her and squeezes before releasing her. "Love you."
"I love you too, honey. Be good, okay? I'll check in when I can."
"Okay." Noah accepts that and steps onto the curb, waving as she takes a seat in the passenger side of the car.
Elliot starts the car and glances over at her as he pulls away from the curb. She's glancing back, and he knows the look in her eye—it's the same look he remembers giving his own kids when they were younger and he had to go undercover.
"Have you been undercover since Noah came along?"
"Not like this, and not since he's been old enough to remember it," she replies with a shake of her head as she opens their file to take another look at their assignment notes. They're Fiona and Gino Russo, a married couple involved in the trade, and they need to find a way to get into their suspect's event so they can take down his trafficking ring.
Twenty minutes later, Elliot pulls up to an old but well-kept browntone. He parks before he reaches into the center console, producing a small velvet box. He opens it to reveal two fake wedding bands. "Ready?"
As ready as she'll ever be.
"I am if you are." Olivia takes one of the silver bands out of the box and slides it onto her left ring finger. Elliot does the same, the ring taking the place once occupied by his real wedding band.
They climb out of the car and grab the bags before Elliot unlocks the door to the brownstone. It's already furnished and set up to look lived in, including ever-familiar pictures they'd taken together years ago, the same ones they used the last time they went undercover as a married couple.
One of them is the same one Olivia's kept framed in her apartment, even after all these years. She wonders if Elliot still has his copy, and the fond way he looks at the photo tells her that maybe he does.
"Nice house," Elliot muses to break the silence. Even if their friendship is slowly becoming more natural again, there's still a tension between them. He doesn't have anyone to blame but himself for that, but he hopes it isn't too late to fix it.
They haven't been in the house long when a black car with tinted windows pulls up at the curb. Olivia can barely make out the outline of their suspect, his profile recognizable from the case file photos.
"Looks like our guy's here," Olivia calls out.
Nodding, Elliot opens the door moments after they hear a sharp knock. Their suspect is on the other side, flanked by two security guards.
"Il Signor Aldo Riva?" Elliot asks. ("Mr. Aldo Riva?")
The man in the middle nods, eyeing them closely as Olivia takes her place next to Elliot, laying a hand on his arm in a manner that feels like second nature.
"Sono Gino, e questa é mia moglie, Fiona," Elliot introduces, slipping his arm around her waist and setting his hand on her hip. ("I'm Gino, and this is my wife, Fiona.")
Olivia smiles, and after a moment she leans into his arm. They've touched on undercover missions years ago, but that was before.
Before he told her he loved her.
Because she had to face the fact that he was back and she still wanted him, no matter how hard she tried not to.
It's different now, and she doesn't know why, but it makes her wish that this was real, that they were themselves and not Fiona and Gino Russo.
"Lieta di conoscerla," she greets with a smile, settling her hand on Elliot's arm. ("Nice to meet you.")
After a moment, Aldo extends his hand to Elliot and gives it a tight shake. " Il tuo messaggero ha detto che vuoi fare affari," he responds, and judging by the professional way he speaks, he's falling for their act. ("Your messenger said you want to do business.")
Elliot's hand gives Olivia's waist a gentle squeeze. "Corretto. Vorremmo collaborare." ("We do. We'd like to partner.")
They earn a curt nod in response. "Così ho sentito. Mi è stato detto che puoi farci ottenere più profitti." ("So I heard. I've been told you can bring in more profit.")
"Lo faremo. Facci entrare e faremo in modo che ne valga la pena," Olivia agrees, her hand coming to a rest on top of Elliot's. ("We will. You let us in, and we'll make it worth your time.")
To their relief, their suspect easily falls into their ruse. They exchange a few more words and at the end of the conversation he hands them a sealed envelope. "Fatevi trovare a questo indirizzo e ne parlermo. Non tardate." ("Be there and we'll talk. Don't be late.")
"Hai la nostra parola," Elliot promises, taking the envelope with his free hand. They watch as Aldo and his men turn to leave the brownstone, watching through the window until their vehicle pulls away from the curb. ("You have our word.")
Realizing his hand still rested on Olivia's hand, Elliot moved it and opened the envelope. Inside was a folded piece of paper, its contents written in Italian.
"Looks like we're invited to his company's Valentine's party Monday evening. How much do you wanna bet he's planning something?"
"We'll have our units set up a van and listen in so we can make an arrest when the time comes." Olivia digs their case file from her bag and sits down on the couch. "Which means we have until Monday to establish a connection between Aldo and the trafficking ring."
Nodding, Elliot takes a seat next to her and opens his own file. As they compare notes and evidence, for a moment everything feels completely natural, just as it did all those years ago.
An hour into studying their files, Olivia's stomach rumbles. Hungry and cross-eyed from staring into their paperwork, she sets her folder aside. "I'm ready for some dinner. We can order in or go get something."
"The kitchen's been stocked. I can make dinner," Elliot suggests,
At that, she arches a brow because she knows that in Elliot's thirty some years of marriage, Kathy handled the cooking because of the unpredictable hours he worked. "Since when can you cook?" she quips.
"Picked up a few recipes in Italy." He shrugs and opens the fridge to rummage through some of the food inside. There's enough to make a recipe he knows how to make pretty damn well. "There's this pasta dish I learned how to make. It's pretty quick and foolproof and tastes good."
"How am I supposed to say no to that?" Olivia teases, taking a seat on a barstool. "Should I have an emergency takeout order ready?"
"Ha ha. I think you'll be surprised." Elliot sets a pot of water on the stove to boil. "Says the one who never kept more than a few ketchup packets and water bottles in the fridge."
"I'll have you know I actually started cooking sometimes," she chuckles. "Noah loves spaghetti, so I try to make it once a week."
"Yeah? He'll have to try mine the next time Maureen brings the boys over. They love it, too."
Even if she already met Maureen's kids, the thought of her former partner as a grandfather still surprises and amuses her all at once. "I still can't get over the fact that you have grandchildren and here I am still having a kid in elementary school."
"Enjoy it before the teen years kick in." Elliot sets out a box of noodles and some vegetables to cut.
"I'm already dreading it."
True to his word, he has dinner ready thirty minutes later. He dishes out two plates of the pasta and slides one over to her. "Try it. Pretty sure it's edible."
"That's comforting to know." Amused, she picks up her fork and takes a bite. "Wow, El. I shouldn't have doubted you."
"You shouldn't have." Grinning, he sits across from her and digs into his own dinner. Olivia returns the smile, and quiet settles between them as they enjoy their dinner. There's something so domestic, but still so natural about it as they settle in.
After they've eaten and cleaned up, Olivia heads for the hallway. She's glad there are two bedrooms because even if they're pretending to be married, she's not sure if she's ready to share a bed.
Even if she wants to.
"I'm gonna shower and get ready for bed." She gives him a soft smile, her hand brushing against his arm without a second thought. "Night."
"Night."
•••
It's their second night in their fake home, the night before Valentine's Day, and they're just a little closer to arresting Aldo and his two assistants.
They're set up to go to the party tomorrow evening, and they've both notified their squads to monitor from a safe distance so they can hopefully make any necessary arrests.
Olivia emerges from the bathroom, her hair damp from her shower. She's not wearing makeup, dressed in sweats and a loose tee-shirt, more casual than Elliot's ever seen her as she drapes a towel around her shoulders.
Her cell phone rings on the coffee table—her personal one, not the undercover one—with an incoming FaceTime call from Noah. Elliot watches as she answers it, her demeanor changing to something softer.
In the moment, she's not Fiona Russo or Captain Benson. She's a mom, relaxed and comfortable and happy as she answers the call. "Hey, Noah."
"Hi, Mom!" he replies excitedly. "Guess what?"
"What, baby?" she asks, taking a seat on the couch and shifting into a comfortable position with her legs tucked beneath her.
"I got the lead role for the spring recital!"
And with that, her face lights up with pride and affection, her smile wide enough to make her nose crinkle and her eyes shine. "You did? That's great, honey!"
It's an expression of nothing but love and adoration, one he's always imagined seeing on her face. He watches curiously as she continues talking to her son, curled up comfortably on the couch as she holds her phone up.
Elliot listens as she talks to Noah about the recital and his day at school. A while later, he hears Noah hold back a yawn.
"I think it's time for bed. I'll talk to you soon, okay?"
"Okay," Noah yawns reluctantly. "Night, Mom."
"Night, baby. I love you."
"Love you, too."
"How long has Noah been dancing?" Elliot asks once she ends the call with Noah.
"A few years. He started playing baseball, but he changed his mind and decided to do dance instead. He loves it." Olivia sets her phone aside, a soft smile still on her face.
"We never finished catching up." The words roll casually off his tongue without prompting, before he can stop himself, and the surprised look she gives him quickly gives way to annoyance, with something else in her eyes, something sadder and longing all at once.
Olivia levels a hard look at him, pausing for a long moment. He doesn't take the words back, so she goes for it. "You're sure you want to hear everything? Because it's not all good, Elliot."
Because if he wants to catch up on what he missed in ten years of silence, he better be fucking prepared to hear it all.
"Everything," he confirms. "Everything you want to tell me. I want to hear it."
Olivia lets out a long breath and nods slowly, taking a seat on the couch. "Okay. That night at the courthouse, I said you've never asked about anything that happened to me. There is something that I want to talk to you about. Just don't make me regret it."
She speaks firmly, but there's an uncertainty to her voice that Elliot isn't used to hearing. Whatever it is she has to tell him, it's something she knows he won't like hearing, but he nods. He wants to hear everything he missed, from the best to the worst, and the last thing he wants to do is make her regret trusting him with anything she has to say.
"I promise."
When he nods in response, she presses her lips into a thin line, her expression twisting in thought as she plans her next words. "About eight years ago, we picked up a man for exposing himself in Central Park. We later found out that he was a violent, sadistic rapist named William Lewis."
Elliot focuses on her every word, never taking his eyes off of her even as his pulse starts to quicken. He doesn't speak, just nods a little to let her know he's paying attention.
"He was released on bail, and I came home to find him in my apartment with a gun to my head."
A curse word almost leaves his lips, but Elliot holds it back, his stomach uneasy as he suspects that she's nowhere near finished with her story.
"He knocked me unconscious and held me hostage in my own home. I'd taken some time off work, so by the time anyone realized something was wrong, he'd escaped and taken me with him.
Olivia takes a moment to pause, and she relaxes a little knowing that he's still listening, not interrupting or showing any sign of trying to stop her. She recognizes the taut line of his jaw, but his face softens, silently urging her to go on.
"He kept me captive in my own apartment. Forced me to take sleeping pills and drink vodka, burnt me with cigarettes and keys he heated on the stove." Olivia's throat clenches, making her voice quaver. "I still have the scars."
Elliot's stomach twists and he inhales sharply, his body tensing. He can feel the color fading from his face as he wills his racing pulse to slow down. "Liv…"
Deciding that she doesn't want to relive every detail, Olivia absently rests her hand on his, the gesture taking both of them by surprise. "He took me to a house and cuffed me to the bed. If someone hadn't come to the door, he would have…" Leaving the rest unspoken, she shakes her head.
Elliot swallows hard, holding back every urge to storm out, to threaten to find the sick bastard and kill him himself. "God…"
A shaky breath leaves her lips. "But do you know what I was thinking about? When I thought I wouldn't make it out alive, all I could think about was how I wanted to see you one last time. I told him everything you would have done to him if you were there."
The words make his heart clench, twisting with guilt. "Liv, I…I would have come back. If I'd known, I promise I would have been on the next flight home and never looked back."
"But you didn't know," she corrects, shaking her head a little.
To his surprise, there's no anger to her tone, and he almost wishes there was because he doesn't deserve to have her give him this chance, not when he was miles away when she needed him most.
Olivia doesn't say anything right away, but Elliot knows she has more to say, and he prays he hasn't made her shut down. "Lewis. What happened to him?"
"He's dead. I managed to break free from the bed and beat him unconscious with a metal rod. I won't share every detail that happened after that, but he's dead."
She beat him unconscious.
That's his girl.
He doesn't say that, just lets out a breath in an attempt to settle his nerves. "He's dead. Good."
But it's not enough. Even if the bastard is rotting six feet under, it's not enough.
He should have been there. While he was in Italy trying to rebuild a crumbling marriage, Olivia was back in New York living through absolute hell, and he should have been there.
God, he fucked up.
Without thinking he leaned closer, hugging her tightly and fighting to hold back tears. "Liv, I'm sorry," he manages for what feels like the hundredth time. "I'm sorry."
After a moment her arms slowly wind around him and she exhales a trembling sigh, resting her hand on his head. "Elliot?"
It's then that Elliot realizes he's clenching his jaw, his eyes squeezed against the hot sting of tears. He opens them and inhales, the sound a sharp gasp. "I'm listening, Liv."
She nods again, and to her own surprise, she feels lighter, like a weight's been lifted from her chest. "There's more I want to tell you."
It's not a question, not an invitation. "Keep going."
"I told you I adopted Noah, right?"
"You did," he confirms. She told him that evening at his apartment before Christmas, but she left it at that, not going into specifics.
"I found him when he was a baby during a child pornography raid. He was placed into foster care at the time. We discovered later that his mother was a prostitute who was murdered, and his father was the sex trafficker who forced her into the trade."
"Christ…"
"The judge in charge of Noah's case asked if I wanted to foster him," Olivia continues. "With the option of eventually adopting him. His father tried to get custody of him but was killed, and a few weeks later I was able to adopt him."
Her voice softens with that, which makes his racing pulse slow. "I always knew they were wrong."
Smiling tearfully, she laughs softly at the memory. "But when he was five, his maternal grandmother showed up out of nowhere. We'd thought she wasn't alive, but she found out about Noah through a private investigator and tried to fight for custody. Instead, she got visitation rights, but she abducted Noah one day."
"Did she hurt him?"
"No. She never wanted to harm him. She just wanted him because he was all she had left of her daughter. But when he was missing, I was more terrified than I'd ever been in my life. But we managed to track him down and he was safe. I've never been more relieved."
As she shares the story, her face relaxes as if she's relieving the relief of finding her son safe all over again. "You're a good mom."
"He's the best thing that ever happened to me. I love him more than anything. More than I ever thought I could love someone after—" Catching herself, she stops. For a moment her vision blurs with tears that she forces back.
"After what?" Elliot pulls back from their embrace, just enough to meet her eyes.
Olivia doesn't answer right away. A hard lump forms in her throat as she meets his eyes again. She forces her voice to stay firm, but there's a crack to it as she speaks. "After you left me and I thought that I'd never be happy again."
The words sting even if they shouldn't because he deserves every word of it and then more, but Elliot doesn't argue. Even if she's opened the door to friendship, she's never fully opened up to him about how badly his shitty decision affected her, and he knows they can't move on until she does.
"You didn't even say goodbye. Not even a phone call. I called you so many times thinking that maybe it would be the time you picked up until I called one day and heard the message your line had been disconnected." Hating the way her voice quivers as she speaks, Olivia glances away.
Finally he cuts in, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. "I'm sorry. I know I've said it before and it's not enough, but I am. Leaving you was the hardest decision…and the stupidest one…that I've ever made."
Olivia raises her head to meet his eyes again, her own eyes shining with unshed tears. "There were so many times that I needed my best friend," she whispers back, finally returning the tight grip he has on her hand.
"Olivia, you mean everything to me." Elliot makes the slightest move closer, and to his relief she doesn't pull back or push him away. "I can't take back ten years. If I could go back and stay, I would. I would have been right there with you."
Swallowing hard, she lets her thumb graze against the back of his hand. "I know," she admits. "I know you would. And I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago, even if I tried not to let myself because I was afraid I'd let you back in just for you to leave again."
"I'm not going anywhere." Elliot shakes his head. "Not again."
"I believe you." Despite everyone telling her she shouldn't, and maybe even against her own better judgment, she does. "I still trust you, Elliot. Just promise me you won't do anything to change that."
"I promise."
"Good." She lets the tension fade from her body and manages a wistful smile. It gives way to a yawn and she stretches. "I don't know about you, but I'm ready to get some sleep."
"Me too." Elliot follows her down the hallway, to their bedrooms opposite each other. They pause in the doorway, quiet falling between them for a few seconds. "Night, Liv."
"Good night," she echoes, but neither of them make a move for their doors.
Then it's as if a dam breaks in her and she reaches out, grabbing his hand and stopping him from turning around. Her lips crash into his, silencing whatever question he's about to ask.
His surprise only lasts a moment. He leans into the kiss and welcomes her closer, his arms looping around her waist. Their lips never part as they step back, stumbling toward the bed.
Olivia gasps a little when they collapse onto the bed. She laughs softly and slips her hand under his shirt, needing him closer. Elliot pulls back just long enough to lift his shirt over his head and toss it aside. Then he leans closer and kisses her again, this time more deeply.
The years of longing wash over her when their lips touch and she peels off her own shirt, her skin tingling when she feels the warmth of his chest against hers. Her heart skips when his hands run over her body, and for a moment she has to remind herself that this is real, not a dream.
Several long moments pass before she turns over until he's beneath her. Letting out a shaky breath, she gazes down at him, her expression softer than he's ever seen it. "El, are you sure about this? I need to know that you are."
"I'm sure." There's no hesitation or holding back as he reaches up, touching his hand to her cheek. "I promise."
"Okay." Olivia lies beside him, her mind still reeling as she settles her head on his chest. Tonight she doesn't want to go all the way. All she wants is to lie in his arms, feeling the comfort of his skin touching hers. "But I don't want to go further right now. I just want to enjoy this. And when this undercover mission is over, when we're home…"
Understanding entirely, Elliot nods and wraps his arms around her. His chin rests atop her head as he pulls the bed covers up with his other hand. "I know. Whenever you're ready, so am I."
It's more than he ever imagined, and he's more than willing to take things one step at a time.
Pleased with that, she settles comfortably against him and closes her eyes. This close, she can hear the steady beat of his heart, and within minutes the sound soothes her into sleep.
•••
It's Valentine's Day and they're spending the evening infiltrating Aldo Riva's event disguised as a company party. Both of their squads are set up discreetly down the block, equipped with listening devices so they can provide backup at a moment's notice.
When they reach the address Aldo gave them, Elliot finds a parking place and eases the sedan into it. He checks to make sure his wire is hidden in his suit and glances over at Olivia. "You ready?"
"Mm-hmm." Nodding, she checks her own wire, then gives him a smile as they exit the car. He holds his arm out to her and she takes it, every move feeling natural as her hand brushes against the fake wedding band on his ring finger.
Dozens of wealthy-looking men and women file their way into the house, and anyone who didn't know the situation would have easily thought it was nothing more than a lavish party for Valentine's Day.
There's no sign of Aldo or his underdogs, so they make their way to a corner where they can see the partygoers, some of them exchanging money.
Olivia sees Aldo and one of his assistants making their way to a back door, greeting an unfamiliar figure. Aldo passes him a thick stack of cash before leading several young women into the house. "There."
Nodding, Elliot lowers his head and whispers their code into the mic, signaling for both of their units to make their entry. Moments later, the door swings open as a handful of officers led by Fin and Bell make their way into the house.
"NYPD!"
In the rush of people hurrying for the door, Aldo and his two assistants push their way toward an exit. Olivia sees Rollins catching one of them and handcuffing him, while the other two make their way toward the back of the house.
"That way!" Olivia urges, withdrawing her concealed piece.
Together they rush after them, cornering the pair in the next room. Before either of them have a chance, one of Aldo's assistants reaches into his pocket and swings a pistol in their direction. A gunshot rings out, followed by two more as his body hits the floor.
At first, Olivia feels nothing more than a punch to her side, just strong enough to make her gasp.
Elliot realizes it before she does, his eyes widening with panic. He sees Aldo running through the door and up the stairs, but Elliot's decision only takes a moment when a backup officer sets off after him.
"Liv!" He shoves his gun into his holster and reaches out, steadying her as her body wavers. "Shit…"
Then the pain registers after a slow moment, knocking the breath out of her. Gasping, she looks down and sees the blood beginning to seep through her shirt. She clasps a hand over it and presses to slow the blood loss, but already her knees are growing weak and her legs give out.
"Olivia!" Elliot catches her and lowers to the floor. He hears Fin behind him calling a bus and presses his hands over the wound. "Help's on the way, Liv."
Olivia's face twists with discomfort as the burning worsens. "Oh god…" she groans, gasping and clenching her jaw.
"I know it hurts." Elliot's heart tugs at the pained sound she lets out, but he knows he needs to keep steady pressure on the wound in an effort to slow down the blood loss until the paramedics arrive. "Just keep your eyes open and focus on me, okay?"
She manages a pained grimace and shifts her focus to him. He fights to speak calmly for her sake, but the panic in his eyes doesn't escape her notice. It's the same terror she remembers in his eyes the day Gitano slashed at her neck with a knife almost sixteen years ago.
For a moment her eyes squeeze shut as she rests her hand on top of his, her fingers grazing against the warm stickiness of blood.
"Keep your eyes open," Elliot instructs, letting out an almost inaudible sigh of relief when her eyes open again. "Talk to me. Okay? We need to keep you awake."
The stench of smoke and gasoline hits her senses, making her brow furrow. "Elliot."
Fin's the first to see the flames at the top of the stairwell, quickly engulfing the upstairs hallway and making their way downwards. "Son of a bitch is trying to burn the place down."
"I'm getting Liv out of here." Elliot's not about to risk the building going up in flames before the paramedics get here, so he eases Olivia into his arms and stands up.
Olivia gasps, grabbing at his shirt in a bloodied fist. "El…"
"I've got you," he promises as he follows Fin out of the house. "Just hang on and stay awake."
Groaning, she rests her head on his shoulder, forcing her eyes to stay open against the weak feeling threatening to make her pass out. As the dizziness makes her head spin, her breathing shallows to ragged, slow gasps.
"Liv? Hey, hang in there. Deep breaths," Elliot orders, his mouth turning dry with worry. As he steps outside, an ambulance slows to a stop on the curb. The medics roll out a stretcher.
Olivia's faintly aware of him settling her on the stretcher and taking her hand into his as the medics take over, focusing on the wound. "El…"
"Right here." He tightens his grip on her hand, walking alongside the stretcher. Without giving the paramedics a moment to talk him out of riding with her, he ducks into the back of the ambulance and situates himself at her head. "Stay with me, Olivia."
She manages to open her eyes again, making out his worried face nearby. "I'm trying…" she grunts, struggling to keep her eyes open and focused. "Dizzy…"
"Her BP's getting low," one of the medics informs Elliot. 'We need to keep her conscious as long as possible."
"Olivia." Elliot patted her pale cheek. "Olivia, focus on me. We'll be at the hospital soon."
Her grip slowly slacks on his hand. The burning pain in her side is giving way to a dull pressure, and she knows it's because she's on the verge of losing consciousness and becoming less aware of the pain. "Check… check on Noah…"
"Got it. I'll call and make sure everything's okay," he promises. "Soon as we get there."
Relieved, she blinks groggily through the haze. Elliot's hand brushes against her cheek, and she leans into the touch, willing her head to stop spinning.
Elliot's heart pounds when her eyes close halfway. "Liv! Stay with me." It's a plea more than a command as he tries to fight the instinctual rise of panic. All common sense should tell him it's probably a flesh wound, that she'll be alright once she gets treated at the hospital, but he's seen enough tragedies to throw any reassurances to the wind.
Olivia hears his voice, his frantic urging slowly fading into the distance as her focus on him blurs. As she slips into unconsciousness, Elliot barely hears his name pass her lips in the form of a whisper.
"Elliot…"
"Liv!"
•••
"Liv!"
Elliot startles awake from the nightmare, gasping and instinctively reaching out. Sunlight warms his face and he opens his eyes, blinking against the rays bathing the room. A slow sigh of relief leaves him when he sees Olivia still resting, turning her face away from the window in her sleep.
He leans closer to the bed, wincing when a cramp in his neck protests the movement.
He's getting too damn old for this.
"Be right back," he whispers, just in case she's close to waking up, before he rises from the chair. He quietly slips from the room long enough to grab a cup of crap coffee from the cafeteria, because he needs some caffeine even if it tastes like dishwater.
Elliot doesn't want Olivia to wake up alone, so he heads back to her room once he has a cup. To his relief, she's still asleep when he gets back to the room. As he sits back in the chair next to her bed, she stirs in her sleep.
His name passes his lips in the form of a whispery moan as she starts to wake. "El..."
"Liv?" Elliot reaches out and takes her hand into his. "Olivia, I'm here."
Her fingers curl around his hand, and a moment later she opens her eyes. Dull pain in her side is the first thing that permeates her senses. Wincing, she reaches her other hand toward the discomfort. "Shit…"
Elliot's hand squeezes hers, drawing her attention to him. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I got shot," she murmurs. By some stroke of luck, in well over two decades on the force, she's never been shot until now, and she underestimated just how much it would hurt.
"I can get someone in here to check on it. The doctor said the bullet didn't hit any organs. You'll be sore for a while, but you'll be fine," Elliot explains, and he's not sure if he's trying to convince her or remind himself that she's alive and okay.
Nodding, she shifts a little to ease the pressure on the sore spot. She doesn't miss the way he rubs the back of his neck with his other hand. "Did you stay here all night?"
The accusation in her tone makes him chuckle. "That obvious?"
"You could have gone home to rest. I would've been fine," she insists.
Elliot shakes his head. "I wouldn't have slept if I'd gone home. You scared the shit out of me."
"Sorry." Olivia glances around the room and notices the bouquet of red, white, and hot pink roses on the side table next to her bed. "Where did those come from?"
"Oh. I, uh…I picked those up in the gift shop last night when you were in surgery. I tried to find something less tacky, but Valentine's Day flowers were all they had. Flowers, cards, stuffed animals…the whole store was decked out in Valentine's Day clearance."
Olivia's certain she's never heard him ramble before, and an amused smile tugs at her lips when his cheeks flush to almost match the bouquet next to her. "I like them, Elliot," she assures him. "I just didn't peg you to be the romantic type so soon."
Chuckling, he shakes his head. "Soon? It's been on my mind a lot longer than you'd think."
The admission makes her smile widen, even if it's followed by a grimace when she tries to make herself more comfortable in the bed.
"You're not the only one," she admits, her expression turning serious for a moment. She looks down at their clasped hands for a few seconds before returning her gaze to him. "What does all of this mean?"
"What do you want it to mean?"
For several moments she doesn't speak, her brow knitting with thought. "I want it to mean a relationship."
The words elate him and his smile gives way to a wide grin. "I'm glad to hear that."
She returns the smile and lets her thumb brush against the back of her hand. "And I want you to get to know Noah." It's a huge step, one she'd been hesitant to take for months, but now it's something she wants to see more than anything.
"I'd love that."
"I think he would, too," she agrees, holding back a yawn. "Did you check in on him?"
Elliot nods in response. "I called Lucy and filled her in. She's keeping Noah and said he's ready for you to get home."
"I am, too." Olivia rests her other hand on the thick layer of gauze covering the bullet wound. "I wouldn't mind getting out of here today."
"Not so fast." He shakes his head, memories flooding his mind of all the times in the past he woke up in a hospital room with her at his side as he immediately insisted on going home. "Your doctor wants to keep you another night for observation, but I'll spring you out of here tomorrow."
"You better." Still drowsy from the pain meds, she tries and fails to hold back a yawn.
"Get some rest," he urges, adjusting the blanket over her. "I'll be right here if you need anything."
As he speaks, his hand brushes over her hair, messy from sleep. The gesture is comforting, new, and natural all at once. It stops the protest on her lips and urges her toward sleep. Closing her eyes, she relaxes into the touch she's longed to feel for years.
Encouraged by her response, Elliot continues the motion, gently stroking her hair. It's not long before she slips into sleep, knowing that he's not leaving her side.