Back with another update! Wow, could this actually become a semi-regular thing? Who knows! In any case, today is the 5 year anniversary of me posting the first chapter of this story, and I want y'all to know how much I appreciate you sticking with me whether you started reading five years ago or last week. It honestly means more than I could ever express.

A/N: think of this chapter as the calm before the storm. Everything changes after this one, so enjoy it while it lasts. Warnings for some NSFW consensual sex and a few references to past dubious-consent encounters. Title and quotes from somewhere only we know by keane.

This chapter is for Jaime. A long, long time ago she convinced me why this needed to happen, and she's been waiting for it ever since. I hope it lives up to your expectations, because you deserve it (and so much more) for all the love and support.

thank you in advance to everyone who reads and/or comments. :)

[liv I'm six blocks away and I want to take you to dinner. Nachos?]

[hey el. you know I never turn down nachos. see you in 30?]

You didn't believe him when he said he 'just happened to be running errands in the neighborhood', of course. He obviously wanted to check up on you, to make sure you were still holding it together ever since Brian had left two days earlier. You were fine, you had promised him again and again, but that didn't mean you weren't grateful for the invitation to do something other than shuffle papers around on your desk for hours to avoid having to go home to an empty apartment.

Dinner had gone well, the two of you trading old stories about your days as partners until you were both laughing so loudly that the people in the next booth had started giving you dirty looks. He walked you back to your apartment and after standing on the stoop talking for almost a half hour, you decided you might as well invite him in. This seemed like a good idea when you were outside, but now you're very conscious of the fact that you're all alone together for the first time in a long while and you're beginning to wonder if you should've said goodnight while everything still felt easy and comfortable.

"Can I get you a drink or...I have water, I could get you water."

Elliot sits down on the couch, turning around to flash you a smile. "I never turn down water."

"Okay then. All the water you want, coming up." You pull a bottle out of the fridge and hold it out so he could see it. "You want ice?"

"Nah, it's good like that. " You're a little disappointed, because finding a glass and adding ice to it would buy you some time.

"What is it? Come. Sit."

You do as told. He looks obnoxiously relaxed, feet up and arm draped over the backrest of the couch, and you wonder what he must be avoiding at home. "Remote's over here if you want it."

"Nothing worth watching," he assures you, even though you're pretty sure there's a Knicks game on tonight. "Wait, I do know of something..."

"Oh?"

He pulls out his phone and hands it to you. "Check this out. I forgot to show it to you after Maureen texted it to me last night."

He taps the screen and a short video starts playing. It's him and Eli sitting in the Stabler living room with video game controls in hand, both focused intently on the screen while Benjamin watches from where he's nestled against Elliot's chest in a baby sling.

"Some male bonding," he explains with a somewhat sheepish grin. "Benjamin screams bloody murder if he's not being held, I already told you that at dinner, but Eli wanted me to play Pokemon with him and so...multitasking."

"Pokemon? Are you any good at that?" you tease. "I thought you sucked at video games."

"Oh, I do. Eli just likes kicking my ass."

"Good thing you're a better dad and grandpa than you are a Pokemon champ..."

"Pokemon trainer, Liv. Gotta know the lingo." He laughs when you roll your eyes. "Anyway, they were both happy, and Maureen and Chad got to have a couple hours to themselves, so mission accomplished."

"I'm sure Maureen appreciated that. I know the little guy keeps her busy."

"Oh yeah. I remember what it was like having newborns in the house...the only time Kathy and I had together was when one of us was handing off the kids while the other was headed out the door to work or school. When Kathy's mom came to babysit, it was like being visited by an angel from heaven. I...hey. Liv. You alright?"

You shake your head dismissively. "Yeah, fine. I was just thinking about Baby Boy Doe."

"Oh yeah. How is he? This new foster family any better than the others?"

As much as you try not to compare the two men, you can't help but notice the stark contrast between Elliot's concern and Brian's 'there's nothing you can do, I wish you'd stop stressing over that kid' attitude. It's...refreshing. "Hardly. The parents are splitting up and the foster father drinks, so there goes family number four."

"Oh man. What happens now?"

"He's going to one of the ACS homes until they can figure out what to do with him," you say.

"What, so he can live in a big nursery with a dozen other babies? How's that gonna- sorry, sorry. I know there's nothing you can do about it. I just don't understand why they can't find a family for this kid when there's so many people out there who'd love to be a parent."

"That's why I'm trying so hard to track down his mom or dad. Not that...they obviously don't give a shit about him if they dumped him off at Penn Station, but at least then ACS can hopefully move forward with finding him a permanent home." Part of you wants to believe in a fairytale ending where some sweet couple in the Midwest could be reunited with the abducted son who they love with all their heart. But as the days drag on and the leads dry out, you know that scenario becomes less and less likely.

He gives you an admiring nod. "You're doing a good thing, Liv."

"I'm trying," you say with a one-shouldered shrug. "I know how it feels to have that big question mark about where you came from hanging over your head and...I wouldn't want that for anyone else. Even though he's too young to understand right now."

"See? That right there, that's why you're going to be a great mom someday." You raise an eyebrow at him and he keeps talking before you can tell him to stop. "You don't like me saying it, I know, but it's the truth. You're already a good auntie, right? Benjamin loved you."

"Right now, I think Benjamin loves anyone who'll hold him," you point out.

"Nah, he definitely plays favorites. And Grandpa's at the top of that list." He chuckles and then shakes his head. "God. How did I get to be a grandpa already?"

"Well, you got an early start-"

"How come you never told me you were going to break up with dumbass?"

Surprised by the sudden change of topic, you try to brush it off with a joke. "What, you thought we were going to be together forever?"

"Nah. Just wondering how I missed it. I know we weren't talking for a while there, but...still kinda makes me feel like a shitty friend for not knowing."

"You're not. I just wasn't ready to talk about it until it actually happened."

"But how come?"

"Do you tell me every time you're having problems with Kathy?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

He shifts uncomfortably. "I guess I figured that you just...assumed we were."

"You know that she, ah. She knows that we're, that we'd- you know that, right?"

"Shit, Liv, I'm- fuck, I'm sorry," he says, and you can tell he genuinely had no idea she'd ever confronted you about it. "I swear to God, I never came out and told her. But she asked me point-blank once and I wasn't gonna lie. She said she would leave you alone, though, I made her promise me that...shit. I'm sorry."

"How long ago?"

"Uh. Maybe after the trial was over? I'm sorry, I-"

"Elliot. It's okay. I wouldn't want you to lie to her," you say. If his timeline is correct, this confirms your suspicion that she was already on to you by the time she invited you all over for brunch. She wanted to see for herself if you'd break under pressure- and God knows you lived up to her expectations. "And I mean, I don't blame her. I kinda deserved it."

"Liv..."

"It's true. Besides, she was a lot nicer about it than I probably would've been if I was her."

Elliot leans back against the throw pillow and nods smugly. "You'd want me all to yourself, huh?"

"Oh my god. I'm not even going to answer that."

"It's okay, I totally understand. I'm quite a catch."

You reach for the pillow behind you, using it to smack him lightly in the arm. "You're impossible."

"Do you think dumbass knew? I mean, is that the reason you..."

"No, no." It's hard to believe that you've never talked about these things before, but it's even harder to believe that you're doing it now and doing it calmly and honestly. Could it be that you really are changing? "He might q suspected something, and he made a few offhand comments, but I think that was more him trying to get a rise out of me than anything."

"You sure?"

"No, but...truthfully, even if he did know and just kept his mouth shut, it would've been the least of our worries."

"That bad, huh?" When you hum noncommittally, he sighs. "Liv...I wish you would've told me."

"You have enough to worry about without me, El. Besides, there really wasn't anything you could've done."

"Even if there wasn't...I wouldn't have judged you. I know I used to make fun of you and say you couldn't keep a guy, but relationships are tough, I get that. Especially when you add in...other stuff. I've been there, y'know."

"It's the truth, though. I mean, this was the longest relationship I've had. The only guy I've ever moved in with, and I'm almost 50. I know you and Kathy haven't had an easy time of it, but you've been married for over 30 years," you point out. "So somewhere along the way you must've figured out what it takes to make things work. More than I have, at least."

"But just having that signed piece of paper doesn't mean shit, not if...anyway. You don't know that you and Brian are over for good. You said it yourself- Liv? What's wrong?"

By the time you realize that you're crying, it's too late to try hiding it. Maybe it's because you can't remember the last time you shed more than a tear or two, even in private, despite everything that's gone on over the last few weeks. You were so focused on doing what had to be done that you just didn't seem to have the time, and then afterward you were too cocooned inside this belief that it wasn't really over to accept that...it's really over. Whether you want it to be or not, whether you said the words or not, there's no way that you can reassemble all the broken pieces of your relationship into anything even remotely functional.

"Liv? Did I say something? Did-"

"It's, no. It's n-not you."

"Then talk to me? Please?" He's so sincere, so sympathetic, and it just makes you cry harder because you don't deserve it. You know that you've hurt him over the last nine months. Sometimes he's been an accidental victim of your own blind selfishness, and sometimes he's been the target of your very intentional cruelty. But all that seems minuscule compared to the things you've put Brian through, things that Elliot knows nothing about but would be horrified by if he ever found out. He has no idea how far you've fallen, minus that night when you opened up to him about your literal fall in the stairwell, but Brian does. And that's why you lost him.

You don't want to lose Elliot too. "You don't understand. I've. I d-did some terrible shit and...he's not going to forgive me. I don't think he can."

"Is that what he said? That he can't forgive you?"

"No." Now none of it makes sense- why he would say he loves you, why you would ever even think to ask if he'd want to have a child with you after everything the two of you had been through. "But I know he can't. It's b-bad."

"Tell me?" You shake your head and he doesn't persist, just stretches out one arm and lets you climb into his embrace like a little girl. "It's okay, Liv. Whatever it is, it's okay. You'll be okay."

You don't argue because there's nothing more that you can say to prove to him how wrong he is. Sure, you'll figure out how to adjust to life without Brian in time. But the guilt isn't going to disappear just because he's packed up his cow skull and said goodbye, and neither is the awfulness that lives inside you.

Elliot lets you rest your forehead on his shoulder as you cry, gripping onto the sleeve of his shirt while he runs his fingers through your hair. "It's alright. I'm here, I've got you."

"You wouldn't be. Not if you knew." He would be understanding if he knew what happened back then, on that awful night at your old apartment. Even if he was secretly disgusted, he would pretend to be sympathetic. You were drugged, you didn't have a choice. You couldn't control it. But it would be different if he knew about Brian. About you falling asleep bruised and bleeding and sated while he sat awake in front of the TV with that haunted look in his eyes that you refused to acknowledge. He would think the same things that Brian did, that you were broken past the point of repair, and that's why you can't tell him. You can't risk alienating the only person in the world who still has any faith in you, not when you're still struggling to rebuild faith in yourself.

"Hey," he says softly, brushing back a wavy lock of hair that's fallen in front of your face. "You're not alone in this, you know? You're not the only one living with shit you can't forgive yourself for. Only difference is, you already know all of mine."

You look up, surprised by his candor. "So when does it get easier? When do you stop feeling like a monster?"

"You're not a monster, Liv." When you don't react, unwilling to concede, he leans back and rubs his chin in thought. "I wish I knew. I think sometimes you've just gotta take it day by day."

"I guess."

He tries again. "But Liv. You're not a monster. You're just very, very human."

"Yeah, well...you hear enough times that you were created by one, and you start to believe it. I thought I could fight it, and then...I tried so hard, though," you reply, your voice breaking once more.

"No. Baby, no," he says, neither of you noticing the term of endearment that slipped off of his tongue. "Listen. I'm not the expert here and I get that. But I saw you and your mom together enough to know she loved you as much as she knew how. And however much she hated your father, whatever mixed feelings she had about you, I can almost guarantee that she hated herself even more. For what happened to her, for the things later on that she couldn't stop herself from doing or feeling...and she didn't know what to do with all that anger, so she turned it outward."

"What's your point?"

He looks mildly taken aback. "I know I'm not the expert, I could be wrong. I'm-"

"It's fine, it's..." You shake your head, realizing you've misinterpreted. Realizing that maybe history is bound to repeat itself whether you want it to or not. "I just didn't know if you were talking about me or her there."

"It's shitty, isn't it? Seeing the worst parts of your parents in yourself. Makes you wonder if you were doomed from the start."

"I guess...maybe it's just a good thing I don't have kids. That way I don't have to worry about bringing them down with me."

"You wouldn't. You'd be an amazing mother." You start to roll your eyes, to tell him not to go there again, but he surprises you with a question. "Did I ever tell you that Kathy and I thought about making you Eli's guardian?"

"Wait, what?"

"Once he was born, when we were updating our will and deciding who we'd want to take care of him if something happened to us. We'd always said the kids would go to Kathy's mom, but since she was getting older- we thought of you."

"And by 'we', you mean 'you'?"

"Kathy was on board too," he assures you. "After what you did for her and Eli...we had no doubt in our minds. We just weren't sure if- it's a lot to ask, and we didn't want you to feel pressured to say yes. But then we knew that Mary would never forgive us if she found out," he says, referring to his mother in law, "and I didn't need to give her another reason to hate me."

You're not entirely sure that he wasn't bullshitting you, inventing this story to make you feel better, but you still can't help but feel a tiny bit of pride at the thought that they might have even considered you for the job. "Well. I mean...that was years ago. I'm sure Kathy would have a different opinion now."

"Maybe. But I wouldn't. And no matter what might have happened between then and now, she's always going to be grateful that you were there that day. So'm I." He gives your shoulder a light squeeze, moving his hand away abruptly when you wince in pain. "Damnit, sorry, I didn't think I..."

"You're fine, I've just been really sore there lately," you say, finger tracing a half circle across where the base of your neck meets your upper back.

"It's because you tense up your shoulders when something's bothering you." He leans forward slightly, shoulders pulled in, to demonstrate. "You used to do that when you were looking at a case file and getting frustrated. I always wanted to walk over to your side of the desk and-" He makes a massaging gesture with his hands.

You raise your eyebrows, one corner of your mouth turning upward. "So why didn't you, hmm?"

"Because I didn't want to seem like I was playing favorites, and there was no way in hell I was going to give Munch a backrub." He laughs, but his smile doesn't reach his eyes. "You do the same thing in your sleep. I could tell when you were having a bad dream because you'd have your head tucked in and your shoulders up like...what?"

"Nothing, I just...I didn't know I did that." You weren't too surprised that Elliot had picked up on it- after a dozen years of being partners, you knew each other's unconscious tics and habits better than you knew your own- but you are surprised that Brian had apparently never noticed despite sleeping beside you for almost a year.

"I miss it," he says suddenly. "Not the nightmares. I mean, just...having you right there next to me. I miss that."

"I. I miss it too."

{so tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin}

You didn't intend for your evening to end up this way, but nor are you surprised that it did.

You also don't remember who kissed whom first- not that it really mattered. More important was that neither of you were turning away despite all the reasons why you should.

"If you're going to run from me again," you warn him in between kisses, your breath hot on his neck, "then you...fuck. Then you'd better stop now, because I...I can't. Not this time."

"I'm here. If you want this, I'm here," he says, just as breathless as you already are.

You want to believe it. You meant what you said, that you can't deal with feeling as rejected and dirty and discarded as you had after your last two sexual encounters with him. Both had sent you into a downward spiral that you're sure he doesn't even understand the intensity of, and that alone should've been enough to get you to put the brakes on until you've really talked things through. But talking isn't going to cut it right now. It's been so long since you've felt cared for and loved like this and you're desperate to prove to yourself that you're still capable of feeling something in response. That you can actually be with someone this way without crying and being held down and- it doesn't matter anymore. You don't need any of that. You can do this. "I want it. Want you."

"I just." You whine in protest as your mouths lose contact and he rests his forehead against yours, hands cupping your cheeks. His eyes are so big and blue from this angle and it's impossible for you to look away. "I'm afr- I don't wanna hurt you."

"Then stop running away," you say quietly but clearly, palms smoothing over his chest as your lips claim his once again.

{is this the place we used to love?
is this the place that I've been dreaming of?}

"Munch has no idea what he's missing out on."

"Nope," Elliot agrees, nuzzling your cheek. "And it's gonna stay that way."

You had to admit that you were surprised when he had abruptly stopped kissing you and told you to take your shirt off. "Bossy tonight, aren't we?"

"Well, it's kinda hard to give you a good backrub with that thick sweater on."

You kept your bra on just to play hard to get, Elliot watching appreciatively as you pulled your shirt over your head and sat down on the couch in between his outstretched legs.

"Lean forward," he said, and you hugged your knees to your chest and rested your head on your arms as his thumbs started kneading the muscles at the base of your neck. You don't bother to hold back your moans and sighs, urging him on with 'more' and 'harder' and a variety of groaned curse words, and you smirk to yourself as you feel his growing erection pressing against your ass. He leans in so that his mouth is next to your ear. "I know what you're doing."

"Can't help it, you're good with your hands." He digs firmly into your shoulder blades with the heels of his palms, and you're overtaken by that perfect mix of pain and pleasure as you feel all the tension and soreness leaving your aching body. His touch softens as his thumbs move up the sides of your neck in little circles, meeting at the base of your skull and then letting his fingers trail back down your spine.

He doesn't stop until you're practically jello in his hands, holding onto your shoulders gently as he kisses the back of your neck once, twice, three times. You wait until he reclines against the arm of the couch and then lie down with your head on his chest. "Feel better?"

"Mmm," you hum happily, eyes closed and a smile on your face. His palm smooths lazily over your bare torso, but for once you're not worried about having so much skin exposed without being able to hide under the cover of darkness. It feels soft, comforting, and your breath hitches a little every time his fingers stray closer to your chest or the waistband of your pants. When the side of his thumb finally brushes your nipple through the satin of your bra, your eyes fly open. "Shit, Elliot. Take it off."

You sit up just enough for him to be able to unhook the offending garment, tossing it to the floor to join your shirt before reaching behind you and pulling his head down for another kiss. He reciprocates eagerly and you sigh into his mouth as his hands move to cup the undersides of your breasts in his palms.

He touches them slowly, hands and fingers tracing over their curves as if he's exploring unknown territory, and you arch your back to give him better access as your tongues continue tangling together. He draws long lines and spirals across the sensitive skin with his fingertips, purposely avoiding getting too close to your nipples.

"No more teasing," you complain, pulling on his bottom lip with your teeth to emphasize your point.

He squeezes both of your breasts, massaging them a little more firmly but still not giving into your demands even when you start to scratch at the stubble on his face with your nails. "Stop that."

"Make me." He gives one of your nipples a hard pinch, and you're barely able to keep yourself from biting down on his tongue in response. His fingers alternate between pulling on them and stroking them softly, the element of surprise heightening the sensation until you can't stand it anymore. "El...please..."

"Please what?" he asks, clearly enjoying torturing you.

"I need it. Please." You assume that he's done playing around by the way he pushes your pants and underwear off all at once, and you try to turn to face him but he puts an arm around your waist to hold you still. "What now?"

"Sssh." You plant your feet flat on the couch cushions, knees bent and legs spread as far apart as they can in this position, and he reaches around to massage the backs of your thighs in the same way he had done to your shoulders. He groans when he feels how slick your inner thighs already are, grinding up against you reflexively. "Jesus, Liv."

You want to tell him how it feels like it's been lifetimes since anyone touched you like this, but then he plunges two fingers inside you without warning and any semblance of coherent speech is long gone. "Fuck."

"Is- should I stop?" he asks, watching your face closely.

"Don't you dare," you say as you hold onto his wrist to keep his hand in place. You bring your legs up toward your chest, hips meeting his fingers with every thrust, and he starts rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb as you feel his dick pressing urgently against your ass. You wonder if you should take pity on him and let him stop to take his jeans off before he comes in his pants like a teenage boy, but you're too wrapped up in watching the way his fingers expertly move in and out of you. His hand is at the perfect angle to hit just the right spots as his fingertips press against your slick inner walls, and his thumb keeps working over your clit faster and faster, and you don't want to look away but then you're coming and all you can see is the blackness inside your eyelids and all you can feel is the way your whole body shakes from the force of your orgasm.

And yet despite all that, you're still not finished. As soon as you're sure your legs will support you, you're on your feet and reaching for his hand to pull him up off of the couch. "Bed. Now."

Perhaps not surprisingly, he seems amenable to this. But you don't even make it out of the living room before you're pushing him against the wall, trying not to break the heated kiss you're sharing as you blindly unzip his pants.

"What the...?" he asks as you mumble something into his mouth.

"I said-" You nod toward the bedroom. Although only a few feet away, certainly no more than eight or ten steps, the distance seems insurmountable. "I can't wait anymore. Just fuck me here."

That's all the encouragement he needs to lift you up off of your feet, turn the two of you around so your back is against the wall, and bury himself to the hilt inside you with one swift thrust. He leans his head down and starts kissing your neck just below your ear, no longer worried about not leaving his mark on you. Not that he ever probably cared, but you did, and you have to admit that it feels pretty liberating after so many months of sneaking around.

You dig your nails into his back and your heels into his ass to steady yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. This probably isn't going to help the pain in your shoulders, not with the way you're hitting the wall with every movement, but for right now you can't feel a thing other than him fucking into you.

"You're...shit, you're so good," you sigh, watching the tendons and veins in his arms bulging from the strain of supporting your weight as you thrash around. "No. Not...the best. You're the best. There's nobody else."

He grins smugly, and you can tell that he's trying to act like he's unsurprised to hear that. You wish you could say something else, something to convey how overwhelmed and amazed you are that he's still here with you like this after everything, but it just comes out as a string of garbled syllables begging for morefasterharderpleaseplease...

You're holding each other as close as humanly possible, the smattering of wiry hair on his chest scratching against your breasts and your clit rubbing steadily against him. "Liv. I'm gonna...baby. Look at me."

And then he's telling you that you're beautiful and he missed you and he's not going to let you go again, and you clench your inner muscles around him, squeezing his dick until he's finally emptying himself inside of you with everything he has and not slowing down until he's sure you've come again too.

You both sink to the floor in a dazed, slightly sweaty, heap; your limbs still tangled together as he pushes your damp hair back from your forehead and kisses along your hairline. Everything is quiet and still, the two of you just soaking up the feeling of holding each other, until he swallows hard and says "I love you. You don't have to say anything. Just...just know that."

"Will you..." You're not ready to say it back. It'll take you another half hour for that. You'll be snuggled together in bed, and he'll be mostly asleep until you jostle his shoulder to wake him up before you get scared and change your mind. He'll roll over and kiss you again and neither of you will get any sleep after that. "Stay with me tonight? Please?"

He smiles at you in a way that you haven't seen from him since he was holding his new grandson, all love and hope and contentment. "I was hoping you'd ask."

{this could be the end of everything}

You wake up the next morning with a grin on your face, inhaling the familiar scent that lingers on your pillows.

Elliot had left a couple of hours earlier, explaining that he wanted to make sure he would be home before Eli got up for school, and you reluctantly let him go after he promised that he'd find a way to come back into the city and see you tomorrow. He sat beside you and ran his fingers through your hair until you fell asleep, so exhausted from the night before that you slept through your alarm.

You decide to stop for coffee on the way to the office. It's not like you're going to be on time anyway, so a few more minutes isn't going to make a difference, and you're in the mood to treat yourself. You realize that sleeping with someone else's husband isn't really reward-worthy behavior in most people's universes, but you ceased to be 'most people' a long time ago. This was what you needed in order to feel a little bit human again, a little less like a monster and more like someone who might be worthy of being cared about or maybe even loved.

March put you through hell, but now it's a new month and a new beginning. Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you smile as you reach for it, not bothering to look at who sent the message because you know it must be from Elliot.

It's not.

morning, sunshine. I missed you...