A/N: I'm so sorry for leaving this story hanging. I usually don't do that, but life has been testing me lately, and I just haven't had the mental capacity to write much, at least not emotional and heavy stuff. But finally, I finished chapter 5.

Highasakite – Out of Order

CHAPTER 5 – FAMILIAR STRANGERS

After spending hours preparing herself for him to call, having to make the decision to pick up or ignore him, preparing herself yet again for the sound of his voice, she is caught off guard when he texts her instead.

And after reading it at least fifteen times, she's still not sure what to do.

"Liv, I don't know how we ended up here. Meeting like this, seeing you like that… I don't know where to start, honestly. But there are so many things I want to say to you, so many things you should know. And I know that I don't have the right to expect or want anything from you. But, I'm here, and you're here. They're letting me go home today. I'm sending you a screenshot of my address, if you want to use it. The ball is in your court."

Since when did he start texting like that? And what does he want to tell me? That he's sorry he could never be what I secretly wanted him to be? That he would never leave his wife for me? Speaking of wife, where the hell is Kathy?

The thought hadn't even crossed her mind until she got back to the hotel and tried in vain to get some sleep. She hadn't checked his phone, simply because she couldn't deal with more than herself. But why hadn't Kathy showed up at the hospital? The worried wife, running down the corridor of the hospital, yelling out her husband's name?

Is he here alone? And why is he here?

After pacing back and forth for too long, phone still in hand, she eventually unlocks it. The familiar voice on the other end greets her with a simple "Wow."

"What?"

"You're calling me, not the other way around. Has hell officially frozen over?"

"Cute." Olivia scoffs.

"How are you?" The tone in Amanda's voice changes immediately.

She finally slumps down on the bed then, her body still dealing with the aftermath of everything it has been through since she arrived in this city that was supposed to be an escape. "I honestly have no idea how to answer that."

"It's been a lot." Amanda says softly, confirming what Olivia is already thinking.

She hears herself scoff a second time. "You don't even know the half of it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Why I'm calling… Something happened before the attack."

"There's more?"

"Yeah… There's more."

When she falls silent, having no idea where to go from there, a gentle "tell me" reaches her ear, and suddenly she feels herself wishing that the blonde was sitting next to her, and not more than 4,000 miles away.

"My ex-partner. You know, the one who left right before you and Nick joined the squad?"

"Elliot something, right? The partner?"

"Yup. That's the one."

"What about hi-" A sudden gasp interrupts Amanda's question. "No! He's there? He's in Rome?"

"Apparently."

"Did you know?"

"What? No." Olivia shakes her head like it's the most ridiculous thing anyone has ever asked her. "Of course I didn't know."

"So you just happened to run into each other, in the middle of a foreign city?"

"Mhm."

"Did you talk to him?"

"No the shooting started right after I saw him. He… He took a bullet. Shoulder. Same as you, basically. Through and through."

"Fuck, that shit hurt." Amanda mumbles.

"Good. I mean, for him. Not you." She doesn't really mean it, but her feelings are all over the place, and right now she seems to be set on the channel that is mainly focused on pure and utter rage.

"So then what happened?"

"I went to the hospital, that's where I was when I talked to you, and-"

"Yeah." The detective interrupts her with a humorless chuckle. "No, don't mention that you're in a goddamn hospital after a terrorist attack."

Olivia rolls her eyes and momentarily holds the phone away from her ear. "Do you want the story or not?"

"I want the story."

"I think I dissociated or something, and then I… I guess I had a panic attack."

A soft and sympathetic hum coming from Amanda can be heard then, and Olivia is surprised by the tears that suddenly well up in her eyes. "I mean, all things considered… No wonder you reacted like that." The blonde says, forcing the tears to spill over and run down her cheeks.

She swallows the lump in her throat and bites down on her lip, because she really doesn't want the other woman to know that she's crying. She already feel like she has said too much, way more than she's usually comfortable with.

"And then-" She interrupts herself by clearing her throat. "I went to see him. We didn't really talk… I just… froze. I couldn't. I just gave him his phone that he left behind in the cafe, and then I left."

"Cold. Good."

"Yeah…" Olivia lets out a nervous laugh while using her free hand to wipe away the tears. "And then I kinda gave the receptionist my number to give to him." She mumbles the words hastily, partially because she knows how Amanda will react, and partially because she's still not sure if it's the stupidest thing she has ever done.

"Liv!"

Olivia sighs. "I know."

"And now what?"

"He texted me."

"And?"

"He wants to meet, and talk." Her fingers are anxiously picking at the sheets now, because she knows that without actually saying it out loud, this conversation is the closest she has ever come to admitting to anyone that her feelings for her ex-partner went beyond just co-workers. "And I have no idea what do to." She adds, sounding completely deflated.

"Nick said something about a wife. Is he still married?"

"As far as I know, yeah. Been married for decades. But… his wife didn't show up at the hospital."

"Do you want to see him?"

"I don't know. I'm lost." Olivia admits. "That's why I'm calling you."

She's surprised when Amanda practically cackles into her ear. "Because I'm the expert on relationships?"

"This… This isn't a relationship."

"Of course it is." The blonde scoffs. "I don't know what happened between you, but a partnership that lasted that long? The way you're talking about him now?"

"Still not a relationship." Olivia interrupts. "Never was."

"Look, I can't tell you what to do." Amanda says, ignoring the brunette's halfhearted protest. "But I'm here. And I really appreciate you trusting me with this. Just… Follow your gut, I guess."

"Thank you. For being here."

After getting a quick update on what's going on back home, they say goodbye and she lets her phone fall down in her lap. Only to pick it back up again to read the text one more time.

This isn't a relationship.

Her mind keeps playing those words on repeat as she steps inside the shower. She doesn't really need one, but that bottle of red standing on the nightstand is just becoming too damn tempting right now, and she can't go on another binge. She honestly doesn't know if her body would survive it.

This isn't a relationship.

Never was.

When she steps out of the shower a few minutes later, relieved to find that she has been mostly successful at washing away that destructive crave, her eyes glance over and towards the slightly fogged mirror while she reaches for her towel. And suddenly that sense of being nothing but confused and conflicted settles instead as a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

It's not just the scars. As ugly as they are. It's the fact that she couldn't protect herself. That she allowed someone to overpower her, to outsmart her, to take complete control of her body. And that she let it happen twice. The scars only serves as a cruel reminder of how Elliot will never look at her the same way again, if he finds out.

If he couldn't love me then, he definitely can't love me now.

With that thought in her head, and with her eyes locked on the bottle, she gets dressed in a haste and escapes the confines of her room, as well as the confines of her mind.

There's no denying that staying sober for a couple of days has undoubtedly helped get her sense of direction back, and as she walks down the same streets that she did three days ago, it strangely feels like she's been staying here for years. Like she somehow already knows this city and could easily call it her own.

She's surprised to find that as she gets closer to the café, her heart isn't racing. She's not feeling particularly vigilant or on edge. Maybe it's because everywhere she looks, she finds heavily armed guards and police. Besides, everyone knows that a city is never as safe as right after an attack. And either way, a bullet doesn't really scare her. She has lived with that threat for years already.

Even so, Olivia's weird sense of immortality crumbles when she turns the corner and sees the small ocean of flowers and candles that have gathered on the pavement outside the entrance. Pretty bouquets and handwritten notes now replacing the blood and the shattered glass that had covered the ground only a couple of days prior. When she was right in the middle of it.

"It's you." She hears a slightly familiar voice say. "You came back."

It's the owner. The man who pulled her down from the chair. The man who found her purse. The man who knows Elliot.

"Hi." She smiles, albeit sadly, as she hands him the five white roses she picked up on the way. "I just… I wanted to stop by and see if you're ok. If you're doing ok after what happened."

"You're so kind, signora?"

It takes her a short moment before she realizes that he's asking for her name. "Olivia."

He looks at her for a moment, eyes her, like he's trying to place her or suddenly recognized her from somewhere, but when he doesn't say anything, she ignores it.

"Were any of your workers hurt?"

"Si, but we didn't lose anyone, grazie dio."

They both fall silent for a while, and her eyes move from him, to the pavement and then over to the spot where she had been kneeling shortly after the attack. "How do you know Elliot?" Olivia asks timidly.

"He's been coming here for a long time."

"Alone?" The question blurts out before she can stop herself and fuck, she wants to punch herself in the face for making herself sound like a jealous girlfriend.

"Sometimes." Andrea shrugs. "Sometimes with his son, and wife." He looks at her then, and she's confused when his eyes light up like he was just finally successful at placing her, at figuring out who she is. "You're his partner."

"Wh-" Her eyes widen. "How… How did you know?"

"That's for Elliot to say, if he's ok? Do you know?"

Olivia suddenly feels the need to pry, but then she might actually have to punch herself in the face, so she lets it go, begrudgingly. "He is." She confirms. "He was sent home from the hospital today."

"And you're on your way to see him now?"

"I-" She still has no idea how to answer that, but she doesn't have to, because with a quick, but friendly "give him my love", Andrea interrupts her before he turns around and disappears inside the café.

After watching him walk away, her eyes fall yet again to the flowers, and one of the cards in particular. "Taken too soon." It says in Italian. And that's when an overwhelming and slightly nauseating feeling hits her right in her chest.

He could've died. I could've died.

But now, we're here.

And so, she makes a decision.

He opens the door slowly and wordlessly, and as much as she wants to look away, she keeps their eyes locked while stepping inside, only breaking her stare when she feels the need to take in her surroundings. To explore where her former partner has been hiding all this time.

It's bright and welcoming, and even someone who isn't a trained detective would've known that this home has definitely felt a woman's touch at some point. The Elliot Stabler that she once knew, doesn't do plants. And this place is filled with them.

But it's also quiet. Too quiet for anyone else to be here.

"You're alone." She says, more as a statement than a question.

"Yeah." Elliot sighs. "I'm alone." He walks towards the kitchen and she follows him, a little hesitantly at first. "Wine?"

That's a terrible, terrible idea.

"Ok." Olivia hears herself respond. "Should you be drinking? I… I'm guessing you're on pain meds?" She gestures towards the sling that's keeping his arm in place.

"One glass won't hurt."

Maybe not you.

She stays silent as he pours the wine, clumsily due to his injury. Normally, she would've teased him a little and offered to help, but her mind is busy. Because this isn't normally, and with every second that passes she contemplates either running away or at least saying that she has changed her mind about the drink. But when he hands it to her, she accepts it with a hand that she forces to keep steady and then she immediately brings the glass to her lips.

Just one, to get me through this.

"I still can't believe you're here." He says with a crooked smile, and the familiar expression on his face makes her blood boil. Because he makes it sounds like they're just two old friends, running into each other. Like he never broke her heart. But before she can respond, he nods towards the balcony. "Let's sit outside."

While he gets comfortable in one of the chairs, she leans against the railing, staring down at her glass that is somehow already half empty.

"You wanted to talk." Olivia breaks the silence as she lifts her head to look at him, doing her best to ignore the tears that have suddenly gathered in his eyes. "So… talk."

A/N: Unpleasant conversation coming up…