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Elliot drifted off again in the car; the combination of medication and non-lethal, but still significant, blood loss left him thoroughly exhausted.
George looked down at the man he cared for, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. He couldn't believe how close he had come to losing Elliot. If the bullet had been a little closer, or if Elliot and Olivia hadn't been able to get to him in time, or anything else, it would have all been over. He almost felt sick thinking about it.
But Elliot was mostly safe, for now. He would have a long road to recovery, especially since he couldn't go to the hospital, but he was already on the mend, and he would make a full recovery, eventually. He had already started formulating a lot of Elliot's treatment plan in his head. Antibiotics, painkillers, and bed rest for a few days. Then he needed to start moving around to prevent a chest infection, and he would be on his feet a few days after that. George didn't think Elliot should return to the field for at least two weeks, though.
Getting Elliot to the point where he could walk around some more would be the hardest, because Elliot would be complaining not being able to do anything, and because George would have to tend to him- although that was part of what he liked best about this arrangement, too. He wasn't exactly complaining about being the one who would nurse Elliot back to health.
A sheepish grin appeared at the thought, but it was the truth; he did like the idea of taking care of him, maybe teasing him about his frustration at not being allowed to do anything strenuous. He chuckled silently and set a hand on Elliot's shoulder, rubbing absently.
A soft groan of mingled pain and pleasure escaped Elliot's slightly parted lips, causing George to remove his hand and murmur a guilty apology. "Sorry, Elliot. We're almost there."
"Is he okay?" Olivia called worriedly.
"He's still out of it; I think he just needs to rest," George replied. "I think we should wake him up and give him a painkiller when we get to my place, though."
"You'll have to wake him up anyway; I don't think we should be outside any longer than possible," Olivia said.
George nodded thoughtfully and said, "You two still owe me an explanation, you know."
"You'll get one, trust me," Olivia said, sighing in frustration. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel, turning her knuckles white.
The rest of the ride was spent in soothing silence. George's eyelids were starting to droop by the time they arrived at his apartment.
"We didn't even spill his blood anywhere. Impressive," George remarked dryly as Olivia opened the door. He had been worried that they would have some awkward questions to answer when they got back, but from the looks of things, they were in the clear.
"Just wake him up," Olivia said thickly, stifling a yawn on the back of her hand.
George gently shook Elliot's shoulder and whispered, "Elliot."
"Hnnh?" Elliot questioned, opening his eyes a crack.
"We're here. We need to get you inside my apartment," George said, pushing Elliot up. "Then you need to take some pills and get some rest."
"Mm-hmm," Elliot hummed tiredly. His pupils were dilated, a side effect of the morphine.
"You're drugged right out of it," George observed, shaking his head slightly. Elliot wouldn't be able to support a large fraction of his body weight, but on the other hand, George would rather that than have Elliot still in agonizing pain. "Can you walk?"
"Don'... Don' think so..." Elliot said, shaking his head slightly.
"C'mon, then, Olivia and I will help you walk," George said, sighing softly.
"'Kay," Elliot murmured, grasping the headrest on the front seat to help him sit without George's help. He managed to get out of the car, and Olivia supported him until George had exited and closed the door.
Slowly, they walked inside, all of them feeling increasingly fatigued as they went. They quickly decided that George would stay in his own room, Elliot would take the guest bedroom, and Olivia would take the sofa.
George helped Elliot to the bed, fumbling to open the packet of pills while he did so. He eased Elliot down and covered him with a blanket, helping Elliot into a sitting position so he could take the pills.
Olivia handed Elliot a glass of water, and George gave him two antibiotic pills and one painkiller. Elliot swallowed them with some difficulty before leaning back and closing his eyes. Olivia silently exited the room, wanting to give Elliot some peace and quiet so that he could rest, and George stood to do the same.
But then, to his surprise, Elliot grasped his wrist and tugged insistently.
"Elliot?" George asked confusedly.
"Stay with me. Please?" Elliot asked. His voice was hoarse despite the empty cup of water.
"I'm going to get you some more water first- you need it, after losing so much blood- and then I'll be right back, okay?" George asked softly. "Can you stay awake that long?"
Elliot nodded and rasped, "But I need ask something first."
"Okay; go ahead," George said.
"What did you mean in the car? You said, 'Told you I would save you.'"
George blinked. "You heard me?" he asked incredulously. "But you were so out of it..."
"I still... I heard you," Elliot said, swallowing in an attempt to soothe his scratchy throat. "What did you mean?"
George could have told him everything, right then and there. A large part of him- the emotional side that he had suppressed for so long, the part that wanted to take care of Elliot- wanted him to. If Elliot requited his feelings, it would make him so happy.
But he didn't do it. He couldn't. This was Elliot- of course he didn't return George's feelings. Not to mention the fact that he had almost died. At the very least, George had to wait until Elliot was recovered. Elliot would be shaken for a while after this; even if he did return George's feelings, they had to wait.
And then there was the fact that he wasn't sure if they'd be able to adjust to a relationship together. They were at each other's throats at work; at home, they just might kill each other. He would be willing to take that risk under normal circumstances, but these weren't normal circumstances at all.
He wanted nothing more than to tell Elliot how much he loved him, but he knew this wasn't the time.
Inhaling deeply, George forced himself to say, "Nothing. I meant just what I said; I was worried that you were going to die, and I didn't want that to happen. I was saying how happy I was that you didn't."
Elliot scanned his face, but he couldn't find what he was looking for; George was a master at masking his emotions. Frowning dejectedly, Elliot asked, "So, you were just worried as a co-worker?"
Seeing the hurt in his eyes almost changed George's mind. Almost. But neither of them were ready for this yet.
Still, a half-truth wouldn't hurt. "Not just a co-worker... A friend. I want to be friends, Elliot, and I want to get closer to you outside of work."
"Oh," Elliot said, still looking disappointed, but slightly less so.
"I'm glad you're okay." George embraced Elliot tightly, hoping it felt like a friendly hug.
But Elliot Stabler didn't hug "just friends", especially male ones. He might hug women if they were like a sister to him- like Olivia- but he didn't hug men at all. And George knew it.
The fact that Elliot had feelings for him was surprising, and yet he had ached for a sign for so long that he wasn't surprised, as much as he was happy.
He allowed himself to stay in the embrace longer than was necessary. Then he pulled away and said, "Good night, Elliot."
"Night, Doc..." Elliot sighed sleepily, closing his eyes. He was out in seconds, his breathing becoming deeper and easier; relaxed, even.
"I love you," George whispered, once he was sure Elliot was asleep. "Soon, I'll tell you the truth. I promise."
