prompt: first hug.
warnings: canonical character death (serena)
rating: g/t.
He finds her after everyone has left, her mother's body buried six feet under. She's sitting in the corner of the room, conscious of her breathing as she stares out the window, down to where people pass: uncaring of the week she's had. Her throat is tight. Accompanied by a faint burn of her eyes. She hasn't cried, yet. Is trying not to.
"You alright?"
His voice is quiet, careful, concerned. She recognises it, the way Elliot softens when he's worried about her. It makes her chest tight for a different reason entirely.
She doesn't respond, just stares. Knows her eyes are red-rimmed with bags beneath. She didn't sleep last night; the night before that, either.
"I know," Elliot says. His shoulder shifts as if to shrug. "Dumb question."
Olivia feels her mouth twitch. Would smile if she had the energy. He exhales, long and low. Sits on the couch beside her: close, their shoulders brushing, legs touching. He lifts his arm and drapes it across the lounge; a gentle pressure. An act of comfort. Her throat constricts again.
"It's okay if you're not," Elliot adds, a soft murmur. She feels his breath against her cheek. "You know that, yeah?"
She shuts her eyes. Emotion is clawing at her throat, is dousing it in gasoline and setting it on fire. She feels it burn, thick, as she tries to swallow. Feels her body go tense with it. She knows Elliot feels it, too, when his arm drops with a heavier weight, a half-hug, pulling her closer.
The damn is about to break. Olivia knows it is; can feel it. Her shoulders shake: once, twice, three times. She falls against him, restraint gone, and his other arm comes up to catch her. He shifts, twists, tightens his hold; secure. She feels a warm, heavy hand rub circles across her back, soothing. His shoulder is solid, his shirt soft beneath her cheek. Safe.
She wants to say, I'm sorry. Wants to say, It's stupid. Wants to say she's been waiting for this her whole life. Had known it was coming since the first time she'd found Serena unconscious: six years old, scared, confused, unsure of what to do. She wants to tell him, It's not surprising.
All that comes out is a broken sob. Harsh and guttural and filled with grief.
Elliot holds her through it.
Olivia clings for her life.