A/N: Thanks for waiting patiently! With life suddenly being super busy and school demanding most of my energy, it's been hard keeping up with fic writing. To avoid leaving a story half finished, I will turn this into a shorter fic than I had initially planned. Maybe add a sequel when I have more time.

TW: PTSD and mentions of Lewis, and just plenty of angst really.

CHAPTER 6 – CONFESSIONS

For someone who seemed pretty eager to talk, he sure takes his time before he opens his mouth to speak. She studies his face while he is clearly trying to find the words, to kick start this conversation that she doesn't even know if she wants to have.

But, she has decided that she needs to hear it. She needs to hear him confirm that what she thought they had, whatever she thought for so many years lived and existed between them, was all in her head.

And that he left because he realized he could never be what she wanted. He had- no, has, a wife, and a real family. And she was just a co-worker and a friend. She needs to hear that, because it really is the only way to explain how it was possible for him to do what he did.

So she waits.

And waits.

Until she can't wait any longer.

"Just say it, Elliot."

Lines take form between his eyebrows, clearly confused about what she meant by that. "Say what, exactly?"

She's just about to lift the glass to her mouth again, to buy herself some more time, but then she realizes it's empty. "Never mind."

His stare lingers for a while before his eyes fall back to his lap. "That day, what happened in the squad room-"

"When you shot Jenna." Man, that was cold. Even for me.

Elliot clears his throat, and there's a twitch in his neck, like she just slapped him across the face. And she realize that maybe that would've been less painful for him. She's about to apologize, but doesn't get the chance.

"Yeah." He says, clearing his throat a second time. "Yeah, when I shot Jenna." He nods slowly. "I was… going to tell you something that day. That I was going to take some time off."

Speaking of being slapped in the face.

"Why?"

"Because a couple of days prior, we found out that Kathy was sick."

Is that the reason why she's not here? She can't get herself to speak anymore. Her mouth suddenly feels excruciatingly dry and her hand is holding on so tight to the glass that she worries she might break it.

"Cancer." He clarifies. But it does nothing to lessen the nauseating feeling in her stomach. "Cervical cancer. So I was going to take some time off. To be there for her, to get more time with the kids. And I was going to tell you, Liv. I didn't plan on leaving like that… But-"

"Stop… Elliot." She interrupts, her brain still hung up on the words "Kathy was sick".

"Where is she now?"

"New York." He says it quickly, like he just realized how all of this must've sounded and looked like. "She's ok. Moved back with Eli a few days ago, actually."

Moved back?

"She's ok?"

"Yeah." He lets out something that sounds a lot like a sigh of relief, like he can't quite trust it yet, that she really is ok. "It was a tough battle, but she's in remission."

"And why are you still here?"

"I'm going back, too. Soon. But I just needed a little time, a little… distance. We're divorced."

"Divorced?"

"Mhm."

"Since?"

He falls silent then, like he doesn't know how to answer the question, but eventually he does. "Officially a couple of months. Un-officially? I honestly have no idea."

It's her turn to fall silent, and without knowing what to say or do, she slumps down in the chair next to him. Feeling oddly deflated and energized all at once. Deflated from trying to process all of this, energized from something she refuse to explore or acknowledge right now.

She can feel his eyes on her and it makes her uneasy. Mostly because it reminds her of all the other times he looked at her like that. All the times she had to convince herself that it was just him looking out for her, as a friend. As her partner, and nothing more.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She finally whispers, asking the question that kept her awake for so long, until other certain events were to blame for her lack of sleep. "Why didn't you tell me that you were leaving?"

Why didn't you say goodbye?

"Like I said, I was gonna tell you. But then…"

More silence.

"What?"

"You." He breathes it out, like he's been holding it in for years, decades. "It was complicated enough that I had a wife at home, a family at home, that I loved. But now I had a wife who needed me more than ever and I couldn't…"

Couldn't be what you wanted me to be. Just say it, El.

She's desperate for him to finish his sentence and just rip off the fucking band aid. She needs to hear it so she can give him a formal nod and walk out of his life, like he walked out of hers.

Instead.

"If I stayed… Liv, I couldn't do it anymore. And I knew, after what happened with Jenna. I knew that you were going to look at me with those eyes. You were going to talk to me with that voice, and… touch me with those hands. You would understand me better than anyone ever could, including Kathy. And it would've been… I couldn't."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Do I really have to spell it out?"

"Yeah." She says through a scoff, before she gets up from the chair and starts pacing back and forth. Suddenly the balcony feels maddeningly small and cramped. "Yeah, you do."

"I was in love with you."

"No."

"Liv-"

"No!"

This was supposed to be her way out. Her one-way ticket to some sense of freedom. She came here because she needed to know that for so many years, she had simply imagined it all. It would've hurt like hell, but somehow it would've been better.

"No." She says again. "You don't do that to the people you love, Elliot! That is not love."

He gets up and moves closer, making her back up only to be stopped by the railing. "Liv-"

"Why did you and Kathy get divorced?"

It can't be about her. She realizes that it's narcissistic as hell to even think that it was after all this time. But she still needs to know that it wasn't about her.

"It was years in the making, Liv. You know that better than anyone."

Not good enough.

"That was before." She says, trying to push back the tears that are now threatening to escape. "Before you left."

"I don't know how to explain it. We loved each other, we still do, but we weren't… married anymore. She figured it out before I did."

"So she wanted the divorce?"

"Yeah."

None of this played out like she had envisioned that it would, and it sparks a sickening feeling in her chest and her stomach. It feels a lot like losing control. Again.

Suddenly she's desperate to be back in New York. To be interrupted by a phone call dragging her to some crime scene or back to the precinct. Any excuse or reason to be anywhere but here. Because certain words are about to tumble out of her, and she knows that she can never take them back.

"It was all your fault." She whispers, not entirely sure if he heard her or not.

But he did.

"What was?"

Her heart is pounding now, to the point where she can feel that familiar tingle in her hands, that familiar sensation of losing control of her body as well as her mind.

"It wouldn't have happened if you were there." She knows that's not true, but fuck, it feels good to have someone to blame after blaming herself for so long.

"Liv…" He moves closer and she moves away, until she walks with hurried steps back into the house. "What wouldn't have happened?" Elliot asks with worry as he follows her.

"If you had stayed… If you had been there, you would've stopped by. You would've known that… You would've heard me!"

The desperation in her voice painfully matches the desperation on his face and she absolutely hates it. She hates him for walking out of her life, and she hates herself for somehow stumbling back into his. She hates that she couldn't just keep her mouth shut.

"What are you talking about?"

"You really don't know?" She's surprised to find that a small part of her had hoped that he already knew. That someone had reached out to tell him, or that he had seen her face on the news. But deep down, she knows that if that was the case, it would've hurt more. The shame would've been unbearable, the pain caused by him knowing and still not coming back for her would've been too much to handle.

"Know what? Just tell me. Talk to me."

His impatience does nothing to reduce her anger, quite the contrary.

"Fuck you." She says through gritted teeth. And she really means it. There's not a single cell in her body that regrets talking to him like this. Not when he has just turned her entire life upside down, again. Not when he expects her to just blurt it out and tell him about the most traumatic experience in her life.

She expects, or at least hopes, that he'll somehow retaliate. That they can keep the angry outbursts going, if only to give her some sort of outlet. But instead, he does the opposite and his face softens. "Liv… What happened?"

Do I tell him?

Can I tell him how I allowed a stranger to ruin my life? To ruin me?

When she finds herself stuck somewhere between the excruciating rage she feels towards him, and the suffocating, but yet familiar self-loathing she's been dealing with since Lewis first stepped out from the shadows in her old apartment, she opts for a mumbled "nothing".

"I can see that it's not 'nothing'. I know you."

"You knew me." Olivia says with a glare. "You don't know me anymore."

Again, he moves towards her. And this time she finds herself glued to the floor, unable to move away. And when his hand comes up to gently caress her cheek, she can't help but to sink into the touch. "Then let me in. Tell me what happened."

"I can't." She whispers.

"Why not?"

Because you wouldn't understand.

Because you weren't there.

Because you'll judge me for letting it happen.

Because you'll probably hate yourself for not stopping it, even though you couldn't have.

"It's too complicated."

She's momentarily confused when he removes the sling around his shoulder, watching with furrowed eyebrows as he throws it on the couch behind her. Before she can ask what he's doing, his hands are cupping her face and her eyes close when she realizes that he's suddenly providing exactly the kind of intimacy she had been craving from him for years. She had wanted him to touch her like this, look at her like this, love her like this.

But everything is so tainted now. Their relationship tainted by the way he left. Her body tainted by unspeakable violence.

"Look at me." He says, surprising her with the pleading tone in his voice. "Please, just look at me." And so she does.

"El-" The lump in her throat makes her choke on his name, forcing her to call him by the nickname she has said out loud so many times in what feels like a completely different lifetime.

"It wasn't just me, was it?" He asks, and she needs a second to understand what he means by that.

You fell in love with me, too.

"No." Olivia admits through a whisper. "No, it wasn't just you."

"Tell me what happened." There are tears in his eyes now. Tears and desperation and worry and something else. Longing, maybe. Something she had seen years ago. Something she had convinced herself time and time again was all in her head.

She needs a way out, and fast. Something that will catch them both off guard. Something that will force him to stop asking questions. Something to shut him up.

So she takes a step towards him, closing what little is left of distance between them. And with their eyes locked, she moves her hands to mirror his before leaning in.

Fuck.

It's instant. The way her heart is hammering in her chest, the way tears spill from her eyes, and the way she is reminded of how it felt, and how deep it went; being in love with this man for so long. He moves his hands from her face to behind her back, pulling her in even closer, pressing their bodies together as she deepens the kiss.

Not that long ago, she would've been a lost cause by now. She would've so easily given herself over to the pure and simple physical reaction that he is inciting by the way he brushes his tongue against hers. But things are not the same. She is not the same.

"I can't." She mumbles against his lips, eyes still closed and her hands now rested against his chest.

"Liv." The pleading tone is back, but this time she won't give in.

"No." She shakes her head and stares at the small space of floor between them. "No, I…"

Olivia moves to leave but he grabs her arm then, forcing her to look at him. "Please."

"Stay away from me."

A/N: What can I say? I'm a whore for angst.

There will be one more chapter after this, a lengthy one. So if you have to wait a bit, I hope it'll be worth it.