DISCLAIMER: I do not, in any way shape or form, own the characters from Law & Order: SVU. They are created by Dick Wolf and I will forever love him for it. I am using these characters and the basis of this television show purely for entertainment and am not making any form of profit off of the writing of this piece. (AKA: It's not mine. Don't sue. Thanks.)

Fix You

A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews! It makes me smile…and therefore I write more. I apologize for the long wait – I had an Honors Colloquium at a potential college on the 15th & 16th of June. Then we celebrated Father's Day that Saturday night because I left bright and early Sunday the 17th for a 3 day leadership conference for NoLimits – a youth-led movement against big tobacco. I have been BUSY. But I'm back…and writing…so here we go.

Without further ado…

Chapter 2: Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off

Eventually, Olivia's tears subsided. Elliot sat next to her, preparing to pull her into a caring embrace, but she refused to let him touch her. She jumped up and backed away from both him and Casey.

"Liv," he whispered, reaching his hand out to her. She shook her head, instinctively reaching toward her gun. Elliot backed away, "I won't hurt you. I promise."

"Shut up," Olivia muttered. "Just let me be."

Casey took in a deep, shuddering breath. Elliot looked at the ADA, trying to silently calm her. He knew Olivia wouldn't do anything to either one of them, she was just scared. When neither one attempted to stop her, she walked past them quickly and down the street. Novak made to follow, but Stabler held out an arm, stopping the woman in her tracks.

"We can't just let her run away," Casey argued.

"She needs time," he answered somberly. "She'll call when she's ready. We just have to pick up the pieces."

Casey shook her head, "I'm sick of picking up the pieces. I can't keep doing this."

Elliot sighed softly, knowing that the woman standing before him was right. While he loved Benson, and wanted nothing more than for her to feel safe and recover from the horrors of her past, there were days when it was all too much. She had lost everything and turned to her friends to help her get it back. He wanted to help her, but he didn't know what else to do.

Running her hands through her hair, Novak started walking away. Elliot sighed, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go ensure that Proctor doesn't destroy this case," Casey answered. Elliot's face went from one of security to that of fear and worry. Realizing that her words had bothered him, she quickly explained herself, "Not that he would, I just feel better knowing that I've seen the remainder of this. It will run into tomorrow as well. Why don't you go sleep?"

Thinking over her suggestion, Elliot slowly nodded, "If she calls you, will you let me know?"

"Only if you do the same for me," Casey answered.

"Of course."

The two walked across the street. Stabler turned to go to his car while Casey walked into the large building. Neither one said anything else, but both knew that they were bound to experience another long night.

Stabler made it to his apartment, where he had quickly showered, changed into flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, and allowed himself to fall into his bed, falling into a calm, deep slumber before he even had a chance to pull down the covers. Nothing disturbed him until he woke to the shrill ring from his cell phone. Reaching to grab it, he groggily answered, "Stabler."

"Elliot," a voice whispered from the other end of the line.

Quickly registering where he knew the feminine call from, he sat up, glancing at the clock to find that it was nearly two thirty in the morning, "Hey, where are you?"

"A bar," She muttered. "I think I might be a wee bit drunk."

"A wee bit," he muttered, hearing the slurring and stuttering in her voice. "What bar?"

"Uh," the voice moaned, "I don't know. But they have the most amazing mixed drinks ever. And the bartender is rather cute."

He listened as she rambled about the bar in a drunken stupor and felt his insides tear themselves to shreds as she talked about a cute man. Quickly changing into jeans, he told Olivia to the bartender on the phone, "What bar is she at?"

"Subway Inn, you know where it is?"

"Yeah," Elliot answered as he picked up his keys. "I'll be there soon. Don't give her anything else, and if she orders something…give her Sprite."

"No problem, Man."

The line went dead as Elliot pulled out of the driveway. He was shocked to receive that call from Olivia – her main concern in dealing with the rape was not to handle it like her mother did. She had yet to turn to alcohol as a way to unwind and forget, but this seemed to be the breaking point. Stabler tried to chalk up the reaction to her encounter with Macedo, but he knew it was more. He could assume that the drinking was a result of two months of bottled up emotions that were finally coming out. Concerned, he decided to approach the topic the next day in a desire to help his best friend.

When he arrived at the bar, his first step was to illegally park as close to the door as possible, knowing that he could make the ticket disappear later if need be. He walked inside and glanced at the man handing Olivia another drink, something that appeared to be a light colored soda. Silently, he thanked whatever gods there may be that the man had listened to his request and stopped providing alcohol. Looking Olivia over slowly, he noted that her hair had fallen flat and her clothing was disheveled. A different man was sitting next to her as she was speaking to him intently, gently playing with his hands and the hem of his shirt every so often. Stabler shook his head and walked quickly over to his girlfriend, where he threw some money on the bar and glanced at the blonde haired, blue eyed man serving drinks, "Does that cover it?"

The bartender counted the money and nodded appreciatively. Olivia looked at Elliot and jumped off of her stool, sensually kissing the man she'd been speaking with before approaching Stabler and lacing her hand with his. He didn't pull away directly, but noticed her obvious lack of balance. Feeling hurt by her actions, he pulled her from the bar as quickly as he could, settled her into his illegally parked vehicle, and entered the driver's side before pulling it into drive.

Benson spoke very little as he pulled away from the curb. Elliot glanced her direction every so often. Her face was resting against the cool glass of the window and her eyes were slowly drooping shut. He yearned to get the image of his girlfriend kissing a different man out of his mind, but it wouldn't disappear. Slowly, he began speaking to her, "Why'd you go drink?"

"Wanted to forget," she moaned painfully.

"You could have called me before it got to that point," he whispered.

"I put you through too much. Sorry."

Elliot sighed as he waited behind a red light, "I don't care about that. I'm too busy worrying about you."

Olivia sat back in her seat as Elliot pulled forward when the traffic signal turned green. They waited in silence until he caught her lean forward out of the corner of his eye. Wondering if she was okay, he spoke again, "What's wrong?"

"Gonna be-" Olivia started, but her voice cut off before the final words could escape her lips. The next sounds he could comprehend were those of her stomach disagreeing with its contents and emptying onto her shoes and the floor of his car. Pulling a hand away from the steering wheel, he carefully pulled her hair back from her face as the only comfort he could offer until he found a spot to pull to the side of the road. He waited it out as she consistently emptied her digestive system through an open door and discarded her shoes with someone's trash. Allowing himself to feel sorry for his girlfriend, Stabler sat with her, rubbing her back until she had cleared all of the contents from her system and the remainder of her violent illness had been reduced to dry heaves.

Pulling her legs back into the vehicle and trying to avoid the vomit that rested against the carpeted bottom of the car, she muttered a sorry as Elliot turned the vehicle back on. They rode in silence for the remainder of the journey, Stabler deciding how best to help her, and Benson slowly falling into a fitful sleep. As soon as he parked, he got out of the car and gently shut the door to the driver's side so it didn't wake the brown haired woman in the seat next to him. As Stabler rounded the vehicle, he pulled open her door and gently scooped her light, frail body into his arms. She woke with a start and he whispered soothing words, identifying himself. Olivia reacted to his voice, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder and her body to relax in his sturdy arms. Carrying her through the door to his complex and maneuvering carefully up the stairs, he managed to arrive at the door, unlock it, and enter the apartment without having to break their close contact.

Gently placing her on the bed in his room, he handed her clothing to rest in. Elliot stepped toward the door to give her opportunity to change, "I'm going to the kitchen for a second, I'll be right back."

Olivia nodded. Her eyes were bloodshot and her mind had yet to fully comprehend the situation she was in. While she was changing, Stabler walked to the kitchen and retrieved two aspirin and a glass of ice water. He rapped gently on the door before entering and was greeted with a grunt. Assuming that she was decent, he opened the door. After he set the cup of water on the end table closest to Benson, he grabbed her hand and gently placed the two tablets in it.

"Take them now," he instructed. "Hopefully they'll help in fending off your hangover."

Without thought, the female detective swallowed the pills with a few sips of water. She, however, still felt nauseous and quickly pulled down the covers to curl up beneath them. Elliot dressed in the pajama pants he had been wearing and left the room long enough to call Novak and inform her that Olivia was safe. When his charge sat up as he left the room, Stabler quickly eased her fears by saying he'd return shortly.

After telling the ADA that Olivia was safe but would have a horrific hangover in the morning, he went back into his bedroom, crawled into bed with his girlfriend, and waited for her to make the next move.

Olivia slowly rolled onto her side so their faces met in the middle of the bed. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him gently; Elliot noted the taste of alcohol that lingered on her breath and closed his eyes to clear the thought. Yet, the image of Olivia's lips capturing those of a random man in a bar kept appearing. He pulled away from her, grabbed a blanket from his closet, and made a bed on the couch. Olivia followed, but he shrugged her off, refusing to deal with her in that moment.

Defeated, Benson returned to the bedroom and silently cried herself to sleep, hoping and praying that when she woke up, the love of her life would speak to her again. Despite her attempts to quiet her sobs, Elliot heard each and every heart wrenching sniffle. He wanted to go hold her. He longed to tell her that he wasn't mad, just hurt. Stabler, however, wouldn't give into that urge. Sometimes, people were required to fend for themselves, and this would have to be one of those nights – for both of them.

A/N: This was really short, I won't lie. But I wanted her destructive behavior to come out and then I wanted to go to sleep because I have school tomorrow morning. I don't particularly like it...and I feel bad for Liv because Elliot's pissed...but I feel bad for El. I'm scared I did this to Jackson while I was healing, and I think, at some point, most rape survivors do push away the people who want most to help. Olivia needs control, and part of the way she's been finding (from Not a Day Goes By) is through her control of food intake, but that may not be enough...Please review, though…because I really want to know if you liked it.