Olivia sighed with contentment. She was finished work for a whole four days and she couldn't wait to go and collect her six year old from his friend's house and take him for a rare one-on-one slice of pizza.

It was starting to get cold so she pulled her jacket a little tighter around her and took her gloves from her pocket, pulling them on one-by-one as she arrived at her son's friend's apartment. It was friday night and Noah had asked to stay the night, but she wasn't letting him skip out on spending time at home on her rare string of days off.

She expected he would be a little grumpy with her but she was surprised when they came out on to the sidewalk after Olivia and Thomas' mother had made some small talk; Noah was in a good mood and happy to see her. She felt his hand slip in to hers as they walked toward his favourite pizza spot.

"And then Tommy and I got to the part where there's the super baddie and we tried like a hundred times but we couldn't beat him and so we did the level again Mom, and then I got the magic potion and I put it on my sword and then I beat the baddie!"

Olivia smiled as she watched her son talking with his mouthful, excited to tell her about a video game he and his friend had been working on for awhile. "We were so happy," he added.

"Wow, sounds like you guys spent a lot of time on the playstation."

"Yeah, but Mrs. Dillion says that she only lets Tommy play video games as much as we do because it's a special occasion," he explained.

"Oh, well I suppose it's kind of a special occasion when you spend a long Friday afternoon at your friend's house," she smiled warmly at her little boy who was getting taller and taller every day.

"Mom, have you been home already?," he asked, his big, blue eyes wide and curious.

"No babe, I had a very big day, I came from work to pick you up and I thought it would be nice to take my son out for dinner, just him and I," she winked.

Noah just smiled. "Didn't Daddy want to come?"

"It's not that he didn't want to come, more that he had a big day too and I think he probably got home from work and wanted to just relax and not leave the house again. Maybe we can take him home a slice or two," she suggested, thinking of how exhausted both she and her husband had been all week, both of them raking in the overtime.

"Good idea. I think he'll wanna eat pepperoni pizza or a calzone."

Olivia couldn't help but chuckle, "your Dad would eat a cardboard drawing of pizza, I don't think it matters what topping we get him."

She wiped her face with the napkin and as the food settled she began to get that only-recently-familiar sickness in the pit of her stomach.

At 37, Olivia was starting to feel some slight changes to her body— the lactose intolerance for one thing, that was new and very unwelcome, she thought. She wasn't willing to give up cheese just yet though, not until it was too much to bear.

But as her stomach swirled, she wondered if it was worth it.

"Okay, let's go get Dad's slices and go home, I think you've had a big day too," she told him. She could see the telltale signs that he needed to go home and take a bath and get in to bed. And she needed to get home too before her stomach had time to react to the cheese.

Maybe it was the tipping point of when enough dairy was enough dairy.

They got a few takeaway slices and left the little restaurant.

/

They slowed down as they reached the same block of her apartment where she had been living for almost 7 years with her husband — it was their first investment together and soon she would be moving in to a new apartment, getting closer and closer to the upper west side, she thought. She was proud of what they'd both done to earn the things that they owned, both coming from humble beginnings.

The street seemed darker than usual and she realised that one of the lights had been smashed; that there was glass all over the road. Call it a second sense, but something felt off. There wasn't a single person on the street except two people standing across from her apartment a few meters from a bodega.

It wasn't uncommon to see youths hanging out and chatting but something felt off.

She spotted something on the side of her building that she had never seen before, something that looked fresh, confirmed only by dripping spray paint remnants mapping down the brick. She grasped Noah's hand tighter; it was the gang sign of case she had been working on for a few weeks involving multiple gang rapes. She and a detective from another precinct were going directly after the ring leader.

She was kept her eye on the two men across the road who both seemed to stop when she appeared, she knew immediately that something was about to go down. They both pulled their hood of their tops up over their heads.

"Uh… Noah, I need you to do something very important," she spoke quickly and urgently, her hands going a little numb with adrenaline, she handed him the paper bag that held the pizza slices. "I need you to listen to me okay?"

He nodded, unalarmed by what Olivia knew was about to happen, "I need you to go inside on your own like a big boy, I need you to tell Steve at the door to call the police and say 10-13 and then I need you to run upstairs as fast as you can get get Dad and tell him to call Duarte, can you do that?"

"Okay," he said, looking over at the two young men that Olivia's eyes remained trained on the whole time she spoke to him. "Mommy, who are they?"

"Noah, go, go, remember, Steve has to call the police with a 10-13, and Daddy to call Duarte, do not come back out no matter what…go, go, go," she whispered, watching him move fast, realising his mother's demeanour was off, that she was serious and that something bad was happening.

With one hand on her gun and Noah running behind her to the door of their secure building, she briefly turned to make sure the door closed behind him. When she turned back she saw them both advancing toward her holding what looked like knives - a big one, possibly a machete.

She walked with purpose toward them, pulling out her gun and holding it out in front of her, both hands around the grip and both pointers on the trigger. "NYPD, drop your weapons!" Her voice was loud and firm, possessing power and commanding their next moves.

"We take what we want!," one of the men called back, she could see them clearer now, they were young adults — one of them easily in his mid-twenties, the other, was much younger. "Drop it! Now!" She ordered with more purpose to her step as she got closer, now only a few feet between them.

From almost nowhere, she heard a motorcycle, it's came fast before she had the chance to figure out what was about to happen, it turned the corner and she realised in an instant as fear overtook her that she was being set up, that she had been green-lit. Someone had found out where she lived, a criminal; the BX9 gang.

She was knocked off her feet by the person on the motorbike but managed to hold firm on to her gun, her legs came out from beneath her and she hit the road hard, her hip taking most of the fall.

It felt like time passed by in slow motion as they advanced the short distance toward her as she desperately tried to find her footing to get back up before they reached her.

It was too late; she felt a kick to her flank and instantly she collapsed back down on to the wet asphalt. "That was for Ricky!," one of them yelled; the young one.

Ricky; one of the rapists she had put in jail earlier in the month.

Another kick, from the other person, she stopped listening as panic set in. Her face, she felt the throb of someone's boot. She passed up the natural reaction to grab her cheek where she had been struck. She needed to hold on to her gun and not get taken off guard. She wasn't going down like that again, no one was ever going to make her feel like the last time.

She ignored the pain in her rib and her throbbing hip and the pain that radiated from her face as she was struck in the face yet again. She could feel the warm liquid sliding down around her eye. Olivia turned to her side, pulling her gun just as she saw the reflection of a machete about to come down upon her. She took her shot, her best aim was out the window but she saw that she had hit him.

"Mommy!," she heard the scream of her little boy, followed by his father.

"Liv!" He yelled, his voice echoing across throughout the street as she saw the injured one, the younger of the two, somehow manage to leg it down the street and in to a back alley as her husband ran after the other who had dropped his weapon, startled by the the sheer size of the man who appeared from the apartment.

"Trevor, no!," she called after her husband, "don't!"

It was too late, he was a fast runner and it showed. He caught up with the assailant in no time at all and grabbed him. Olivia got to her feet, bleeding from her face, holding her hand firmly on the source of the blood, yelling out feebly for her husband.

"Trevor stop!" She limped to catch up, but she knew there was no way she would be able to tear him away. Every step, every movement felt like fire within her body. It was only for the sheer adrenaline coarsing through her that she was able to get closer to them, putting one foot after the the other.

"You wanna come after my wife? My son? My home?!" He yelled vehemently at the insufferable, weakling laying on the ground as he had found his wife. He let him find his footing, wanting a fair fight.

"You don't scare me, my boys got me," it was the tremor in his voice and the fear of the broad, fiery-eyed 6'5 presence that stood over him.

"I don't scare you? You're useless without a fucking weapon, you and your boys are nothing but a bunch of little bitches, can't even target a man, you go after women, you fucking disgrace!" He heard Olivia struggling, her breathing laboured as she got closer. "Where are your boys now?!"

"Olivia, go inside and wait for Duarte," he said calmly and firmly, turning briefly to look at her — her face was bloodied and the fury only burned with more rage inside him.

"Trevor-no,"

Sensing Trevor's momentary distraction, the gang member pulled something from his pocket as he went to strike, Olivia and Trevor both noticed.

"Trev!"

Trevor swiftly grabbed his wrist and gave him a left hook with his other arm to the side of his face, hearing the blow and feeling the pain in his own knuckles. "Mother fucker!," he muttered as all of the rage slowly broke him apart, losing control of his usual calm exterior. Using his leg he took a step forward, and kicked the assailant's ankle out until his leg buckled and he fell to the floor. Trevor got down to one knee and grabbed the knife and threw it somewhere behind him and began to lay in to him ignoring Olivia's pleas for him to stop.

"You don't bring fear in to my home!" He screamed in his face as the gang member tried to block his punches, curling in to a ball. "You wanna know what it's like to be attacked? You mother fucker!" He grabbed him like a rag doll, bringing him to his feet. "Look at her! Look what you did to her face you piece of shit! She is an NYPD Captain and she's part of a pretty fucking huge gang herself, they got her…" he threw him to the ground and kicked him, "where are your fucking boys now?" he demanded a second time.

He went to kick again but someone tried to stop him.

He knew it wasn't Olivia, he knew it had to be police, but all he could see was a red, blinding rage. "Trevor, get off of him," someone called to him but he fought them off, wriggling whoever it was, pulling him away as he continued to lay in to the gang member, dropping back down as his fists repeatedly connected to the face of the assailant who was now just trying his best to deflect the beating.

It took three people, one he could tell was Fin and the other, Amaro — he was unsure about the third person, maybe Carisi.

The rage seemed to pass and then his whole body began to convulse with fear and concern for Olivia, for what she went through, unsure if she had been shot, cut, or worse. And for it to happen out the front of the place they'd been living for the last 7 years since him.

"Where's Liv?," he asked, turning around, "where is she?" He spun around doing a 180, not seeing her anywhere. "Olivia?!"

"It's okay, Trev, Amanda took her inside the lobby until the bus arrives," Nick told him gently, "she's a bit banged up, but she's okay-"

He didn't wait for another word, he jogged his way back to his apartment bashed on the door impatiently, noticing that Steve was manning it. He figured they had locked down, even if he put their apartment code in, the door would have remained locked.

Steve opened the door and let Trevor in.

"Liv…." He called, turning the corner to find her in a chair, wincing as she held Noah in her arms, Amanda rubbing her back soothingly. "Are you okay?"

"Daddy? Did you get the bad guy?" Noah asked, looking up.

Olivia looked up, tears blinding her vision. Amanda jumped up out of the chair. He didn't wait for a response. He made a beeline toward his wife and wrapped his arms around her. He felt her body tense in pain and he realised how bad her injuries were. She was still bleeding, but was holding a cloth to her forehead. He worried that Noah could be hurting her more. He kissed her gently on the forehead.

"Amanda, could you please take Noah upstairs?"

"No," Noah whined, "I wanna stay with Mommy," he said softly, crying. "I don't want anyone to hurt her."

"No one is going to hurt Mommy," he told him firmly, "I promise," he said told his son, leaning over, running his fingers through his son's curls, "I'm here, no one is gonna get near her."

"Did you get the bad guy?" He asked Trevor again.

"Yes," he grimaced, "I got the bad guy, the police have him now," he told the six year old, "but Mom's face is hurt, I need to have a look at it," he added, "I want you to be a big boy and go upstairs with Amanda and when it's safe she can bring you back down with us."

"Trevor it's okay-" Olivia stopped herself, letting her eyes shut in pain, "I'm okay."

"You're not okay," he said firmly, "you're going to see the paramedics as soon as they arrive,"

"Come on Noah, Dad's right, let's go upstairs, Uncle Fin, Nick and Sonny are outside helping too, with Dad and all of your uncles out there, Mom will be fully protected."

Noah reluctantly got off his Mom. She whimpered in pain as he pressed some weight upon her chest to leverage himself up. "Oh careful, careful…" Trevor said softly to Noah as he got up.

"Sorry Mommy," he apologised quickly, "I didn't mean it,"

"Its okay babe," Olivia replied, letting a smile cross her lips that appeared more like a grimace- she could feel everything puffing up already. "I'm fine, I promise."

Amanda and Trevor exchanged concerned glances. Trevor hugged his son, "thank you for going upstairs with Aunt Amanda, kiddo," he said softly, crouching down. He opened his arms up and hugged him. "We'll be upstairs as soon as possible," he murmured. He gave him a kiss on his forehead. "Be good, okay?"

He nodded.

"Come on baby," Amanda smiled, taking his hand, "we'll go upstairs and get you bathed and in to your pyjamas and we can wait for Mom and Dad."

"Do I have to have a bath?" Noah asked Amanda.

"Yes," Olivia called.

Amanda laughed, "Nice try kiddo. Come on…"

Olivia and Trevor waited for the doors of the lift to close. "Baby, your face," he murmured, "what happened? Were you stabbed? Is that the only place you're bleeding from? He fired off the questions one after the next.

"I'm okay," she said but her wavering voice said otherwise. Trevor knelt down beside the chair she was sitting on. "I just got kicked a few times in the ribs and in the face, but I'm okay." She glanced at his hands.

"Trevor what the hell did you do? Your hands…"

He looked down and for the first time he realised his knuckles were split and bleeding. He had blood on his shirt and assumed it was from his fists. "Oh…" he hadn't noticed and they felt numb.

Interrupting them, Carisi stuck his head in the door, "Guys, can you please come out?," he asked, "Paramedics are here, Duarte is here and we need to take statements."

"Okay," Trevor agreed, standing up. He took Olivia's hand, ignoring his split knuckles. "Come on, sweetheart," he said softly.

He pulled Olivia to her feet, she could feel her face throbbing and her ribs seared with pain. She winced and gasped in pain as she stood up. "You need to be looked over," he informed her, "I don't think you're okay."

With one arm circled around her, she stood upright, slowly limping. He held out his other hand so that she could put all of her weight on to him. "I'm worried about your head, I think it's still bleeding a little," he murmured. "I'm so sorry I didn't get downstairs sooner,"

"Its not on you… I was green lit by the gang," she admitted.

"What?" Trevor's eyes widened as they stood in the doorway. He stared at her, her face was already swollen and red and he wondered if she would need stitches. "What? By Bx9?"

She nodded, "they marked our building…"

He didn't know what to think — he knew sometimes threats came with the territory and he knew that Olivia, even after all the years, was still healing after Lewis, but still — he never thought they would be in a situation together again where she would need to be concerned for her own safety, where old fears would come rolling back in.

"Its okay," he told her but he wondered if he was speaking more for himself.

Together they made their way to the police who were surrounding the assailant.

"Olivia shit, you need to get looked at," Fin told her, "come on, I'll take you over to the paramedics- this way…"

Olivia held up her hand, "I'm fine, I'm just a bit banged up-"

"Sweetheart, you're getting looked at, I don't care what you say," Trevor told her seriously, walking her slowly to the ambulance.

Olivia's stomach had been swirling since she'd been beaten and probably panic, searing pain and the cheese she'd been so liberal about eating with dinner, the urge to vomit made her feel hot all over. "Honey, I need a bag or a-"

"A bag?" Trevor rose an eyebrow, "a bag for what?"

She covered her mouth and he quickly realised she needed to vomit. "Grab something, she's going to puke…"

"Just puke, I don't have anything?"

Trevor flagged a paramedic who knew immediately when he glanced at Liv that she was dry-heaving, trying to hold back vomit. He passed a vomit bag to Olivia who took it and let go of her stomach, moaning in pain each time she heaved the contents of her stomach, constricting her muscles around her ribs.

"Okay, okay I think you need to come and sit down," Trevor and the paramedic helped her back to the vehicle.

The paramedic grabbed some supplies while Trevor comforted his wife. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. "Baby, it's okay, you don't have to be strong, that's why I'm here…" he told her, "this should never have happened."

Olivia felt numb. She wasn't able to think of anything else but the machete that she'd seen raised above her, ready to come down on her with the wrath of someone who should have been much older than the young man she shot.

"I know," she replied.

"Trevor, I need you to come with us, sorry, it's protocol," Amaro approached, looking a little sheepish. "You messed up that guy pretty bad."

"How bad?" Olivia asked, "is he in trouble?"

"Its fine, Liv, go with the paramedics, I'll be fine, I was defending my wife, I know the law," he assured her, speaking also to Nick. Now, however, his rage had dissipated and was replaced with concern for his wife. Violence wasn't him, it wasn't part of who he was and he had never whaled on anyone before, but the fear that he had caught on his wife's face as she laid on the road, trying to get up had fuelled something inside of him so dark that he couldn't stop it.

He kissed her temple on the healthy side of her face. "I love you, I'll be with you as soon as I can be." He turned to the paramedic, "which hospital?"

"Saint Catherine's." The other paramedic smiled at him.

"Trev?"

He glanced back at his wife, expectant. He saw tears filling her eyes and he realised she was scared. "I don't want to go to the hospital without you," she said in a small voice, glancing fleetingly at Amaro who seemed to feel guilty about having to witness a private moment between his former partner-turned Captain.

Trevor turned to Nick, "Really? Do we have to do this now? Can't you just take a statement? Follow us down to the hospital?"

"Trevor," Nick cocked his head to the side, saying what he couldn't say in front of Olivia. He turned back to his wife. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

Olivia sniffed, brushing away a tear that fell upon her wounded cheek. The tiny bit of vulnerability she had shown was immediately locked away. "I'll be okay, don't worry."

"I'll have Carisi or Fin go with you so you're not alone," he told her, putting an arm around her, trying to be gentle, not wanting to hurt her. It hurt to see her in such a bad way and if anything it brought back a lot of feelings for him too. "I love you so much, I promise I will meet you there as fast as I can."

Olivia nodded. "Love you too. I'll be fine."

It was the second time she said it and he was aware that she was probably speaking more to herself.

"We'll probably stick around here for a few minutes longer to get her immediate statement," Nick told him.

"Okay." Trevor kissed Olivia again and ran his fingers through her hair. "See you soon, sweetheart."

/

Olivia rode to the hospital alone. At first the paramedic tried to make some small talk but she wasn't interested. She worried about Trevor, worried about what state he'd left the other gang member in and if he would end up in trouble.

She tried to close her eyes for a moment but the flashes of him came back to her. She promised herself it would never happen again, she wouldn't allow for anyone to find her apartment, that she would never ever put her family at risk.

And now, she'd failed them.

She thought about her little boy and the sound of fear within his voice when she came in to the lobby after her attack. He had been so frightened and concerned for her that it broke her heart. She hoped he would be able to sleep tonight.

So much for having a night at home for the first time in a few weeks where neither of them were working and she would be able to have a glass of wine and some alone time with him instead of just seeing one another in passing and waiting for Noah the other person to get home for some romantic time. Well, maybe only one of them would enjoy the wine, but that wasn't the point. Was one night with her husband too much to ask?

Apparently so, she thought.

She held an ice pack to her cheek to help reduce the swelling while the paramedic took her vitals. She didn't feel like she had any major injuries, only a lot of tenderness and a little too much blood than she liked to see on her own hands. She wondered if any of it had been Trevor's from his knuckles.

She hoped he hadn't killed the assailant. She had never seen him so enraged before while simultaneously being concerned and gentle with her. Once he had clocked the blood on her face he seemed to lose himself.

He didn't hear the police sirens, he didn't hear someone pulling her away and he didn't move when three men with a forth on their way had to physically remove him from the assailant-turned-victim.

From the blood on his hands she knew the assailant was in a bad way.

She rested back on the chair in the back of the ambulance and tried not to worry, she had faith that Trevor knew the system, he understood the law and he wouldn't get himself in any trouble. On one hand she was annoyed that he didn't just stay back, that he had gone after the gang banger but there was that part of her that knew after last time that he just wasn't going to let someone get away with hurting her and his loyalty and protection was everything.

Perhaps, she thought, she would have been hurt if he hadn't.

/

"Are you kidding me, Nick?" Trevor fumed walking back and forth in the interrogation office where he was supposed to be giving a statement. "I just want to go and be with my wife. She got kicked in the face, in the chest or side repeatedly by that mother fucker, I know for a fact you would have done what I did…"

Nick felt bad, "If it were up to me you wouldn't be here, I would have helped you kick that piece of shit within an inch of his life, you know that… This is from organised crime."

Trevor shook his head and laughed, "Of course it is. Anything to keep me away from Olivia…"

"What are you talking about?" Nick frowned but then it dawned on him "Oh, this isn't from Elliot, this is from Bell, Elliot is off duty tonight. The OC task force just joined hands with Duarte, but this is not Elliot's case."

"Still…" he sighed, "I need to see Liv, she needs me there, you know that Nick…"

He looked up to Duarte who let himself in. "You might have have just lost us this case, what the fuck were you thinking going after a gang banger?!"

"He came after my wife!" Trevor spat angrily, furious that this idiot that had been working with Olivia for a few weeks just didn't give a shit about her the way her own squad did. "I don't give a fuck about the case, they came after her with weapons!"

"Stop wasting time, sit down and give us a statement," he nodded toward the chair.

"Are you arresting me?" Trevor asked, "because I know my rights and I'm free to go unless you are arresting me."

"If you don't sit down and give us a statement, I'll be arresting you." Duarte told him bluntly. "You messed up that kid pretty bad, Langan, he could press charges."

"He could, but he also went after my wife with a fucking machete!," he lost his temper, raising his voice as if that was somehow going to convince the detective that he should be turned loose.

He finally decided he was just wasting time and would jump through their stupid hoops, the quicker he gave a statement, the quicker he could get out to see Olivia.

He drew in a deep breath. "Fine, but you're only hurting Olivia, I hope you know that and you're okay with that after all she's been through."

"As soon as you're done, I'll run you to St Catherine's myself, sirens and all," Nick promised him.

"I was just coming downstairs to let Emily our dog out for a quick pee and when the elevator opened I saw Noah headed for the fire escape stairs, I called out asking him where Olivia was and he was panicked and said there were bad men outside. I handed him the dog lead and I pushed past Steve the door man who, I guess had called you guys, I saw Olivia copping a kick to her stomach or ribs or something, she was on the ground, the other guy was about to bring a fucking machete down on her and she managed by some good grace of the universe to shoot him, he ran for it and then when I called out, the other guy started to run, so I went after him," he explained, "I could hear Liv slowly making her way over by the time I reached him, I tackled him to the ground, he managed to get his footing, I think," he shook his head.

Everything was blurry, he wasn't sure if his account was even right.

He knew he was speaking a mile a minute, aware he was being recorded and careful not to say the wrong thing, "it happened so fast, uh, I think I yelled at him about coming after my family, my home and he told me I didn't scare him. I turned to look at Olivia and saw how badly she was bleeding from the side of her face and then I realised he had another weapon, Olivia called out to alert me, I caught his hand before he jabbed a knife in to my side and punched him until he dropped it, I got him on the ground and that's all I remember."

He wasn't going to incriminate himself.

"That's all you remember? You're gonna have to do better than that, Langan, he was a bloodied mess when three male officers pulled you off of him."

"I don't remember, I only remember trying to disarm him and defend myself and my family."

The door was thrown open and Trevor almost let out a groan.

"What the fuck is going on here?" He demanded to know. Trevor glanced at Elliot Stabler who looked furious. He expected to hear it from him too, but surprisingly, Elliot's fury was directed at Duarte. "Are you kidding me with this bullshit? His wife and kid were just targeted and you've got him here like a criminal? I know you both would have beaten someone half to death for coming after your loved ones. This is a waste of time, turn him loose, now."

Duarte glowered at Stabler. "You don't run this case, Stabler, you were asked to assist."

"Wrong, this case has been taken off your hands and assigned to OC as of an hour ago." He turned to Trevor, "go be with Liv, send her my best, I'll come and take her statement when she's feeling up to it."

"Thanks…"

He turned to Nick, "could you?"

"Sure thing…." He looked at Elliot, "I'm taking Trev to the hospital."

Elliot nodded, he knew Nick was only following orders, Duarte was the one he was investigating, but no one knew that, it was somewhat undercover, but Elliot knew Duarte would have no idea based on his pure ego alone.

Trevor wasn't interested in knowing about the case, as far as he was concerned, Olivia was off it.

/

"You've got a lot of swelling on your left side of your face," the doctor remarked, "I think it'll be best for us to stitch up that cut," he added.

"Great," Olivia muttered. She couldn't stop her eyes from watering, embarrassed by Sonny who kept asking her if she was okay or trying to console her. She didn't want him, she wanted Trevor — she didn't want anyone else to see her upset, she had spent years putting herself back together after Lewis, trying to convince everyone that she was fit for work. The last thing she needed was for everyone to start questioning her role again.

She heard Trevor's voice before she saw him. He appeared within seconds from behind the curtain of the room she was in.

He seemed a lot calmer and smiled to see her. "Hi beautiful," he murmured. She knew he had to have been shocked by how badly her face had blown up on one side but he didn't flinch. "How are you feeling?"

"Don't be nice to me, I'll cry," she muttered.

He laughed, used to her telling him things like that. "Look at you, your poor face," he remarked. The doctor had a suture kit set up beside him on a little metal tray. "Stitches?"

"Just a couple, shouldn't leave a scar," he told them both.

"Oh, that's lucky, I would divorce you so fast…." He joked, knowing that it would at least make Olivia smile.

And it did, but she also winced immediately too.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he quickly apologised.

"No, no… its okay," she was just happy to have him by her side. He sat with an arm around her, holding out his hand knowing just how much she hated needles. "Do you think after you've patched me up you could have a look at his hands?" She asked, eyeing off Trevor's knuckles. They looked sore, covered in dried blood.

"Yeah, of course," the doctor replied.

"My knuckles will heal, how are your ribs?" He asked, "I saw you take a pretty hard blow to your side."

"They're sore, really, really sore," she replied to him honestly. He glanced at her, looking in to her eyes, reading that she was a little overwhelmed and emotionally exhausted. He knew her expressions — she was still trying to be strong, waiting for a moment alone with him so that she could fall apart.

Her vulnerability with him was something that had always been private between them. No one else knew how soft she really was with him. She didn't pretend with him - it may have taken them awhile to get there; a tumultuous beginning, but they came through the fire with a child and an unbreakable bond and a love between them that at times, overwhelmed them both.

"We really need to get your ribs x-rayed, Mrs. Langan," the doctor told her. Trevor felt her squeezing his hand and it was only then that he felt the throb of his knuckles. He kept a stone face, not wanting her to realise it was hurting. He knew she could feel the stitches.

"I don't think I need an x-ray, what's the point, if they're cracked, you can't do anything, right?"

"No, but we'll know what we're dealing with and how long you'll be out of commission," the doctor explained.

"I really just don't like them," she murmured.

"Olivia," Trevor cocked his head to the side, "don't be stubborn, we have to make sure you're okay."

She released her grip on his hand when the the doctor had finished stitching the split skin above her eye. She said nothing in reply.

The doctor put his tools down and looked back at her, "So," he started, ignoring her protest around the x-ray, "I'll get someone to come in and take you down to radiology to check out those ribs but for now, I want you to rest back in bed, you've had a few serious blows to your face and I think we'll just keep you here under observation for a few hours to be on the safe side."

"Is that really necessary?" Olivia asked, almost whining with the sinking feeling in her stomach starting to make the nausea swirl again.

"Yes, it's necessary," Trevor said firmly butting in, "I saw it all happen, sweetheart, you took that kick pretty badly. Steve said you got knocked down by one of those assholes on a bike too, you need to just sit and wait this out."

She sighed. She tried to ease herself back but everything hurt and as much as she didn't want to admit it, her ribs ached and made it hard for her to breathe too deeply.

A nurse took the tray away as the doctor concerned himself with Trevor's knuckles, putting on gloves and inspecting them closely. "Okay, we'll clean these up and make sure there's nothing too deep, otherwise we'll just bandage them."

"Thanks," Trevor replied.