Disclaimer: Still not mine.
Author's Notes: This wasn't planned. At all. It just sort of happened. Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing this, it means a lot to me. I've been really doubting this story lately and when I went back and read reviews, it helped me finish this chapter. And thank you to a few other people, too, who all know who they are :).

I'm going to try and write the next chapter in less time than this took me. Try being the keyword.

- - -

The door to Olivia's hospital room opens slowly and Elliot smiles when he sees that she's awake. "Hey," he says softly, sitting down in the chair next to her bed. "How are you feeling?"

She shrugs, rolling from her back onto her side so she can face him. "How long have I been out?"

"Few hours," Elliot says, smiling sadly. "Olivia...there's..." he hesitates. "There's something I need to tell-"

"I know." Her whisper interrupts him and he reaches for her hand, lacing their fingers together as she closes her eyes. "I couldn't remember what happened when I woke up...I read my chart." She opens her eyes but doesn't look at him. "How long until we can get out of here?"

"I don't know," Elliot says, his thumb rubbing circles across the back of her hand. "You lost a lot of blood, Liv, it might be a day or two before they let you leave."

She nods, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. "Where were you?" He raises an eyebrow, not sure what she's talking about. "Just now, when I was asleep," she clarifies.

"Cragen called earlier and I was calling him back. He wanted to know how you were doing. If you're feeling up for visitors, he said to call and he and the guys would stop by," Elliot explains. "I called Casey, too. She said she's coming by later tonight whether you feel up for visitors or not."

The small smirk that appears on Olivia's face, even if just for a split second, makes Elliot smile, too. "Can you go find the doctor? See how long until we can get out of here? I'll sign whatever papers they want, I just want to go home."

Elliot hesitates for only a moment and then nods. "I'll be right back."

He returns ten minutes later, Dr. Hirsch, a doctor she's known for years from interviewing victims at this particular hospital, following behind him. "Good to see you're awake, Detective," the red head says, glancing at Olivia's chart again before looking up at her. "Did Elliot explain to you what happened?" she asks.

"I read my chart," Olivia says, pushing her hair out of her face. "Is there any way I can get out of here tonight?"

Dr. Hirsch sighs heavily, watching her closely for a moment. "Against my better judgement, and only because I know that you'd sign out AMA anyway, I'll release you after examining you again as long as everything looks okay and you promise to follow orders and do what I tell you."

"As long as I can get out of here, I'll do pretty much anything."

- - -

Just after four, Olivia wakes, completely uncomfortable. The sharp pains have been replaced with small cramps, but she still can't sleep. Slowly and quietly, she gets out of bed, careful not to wake Elliot. In the kitchen, she pours herself a glass of water and sits down at the table, already feeling weak from walking across the apartment. She doesn't remember ever feeling this tired; this weak, like she could sleep for days and still need more time to rest.

She feels a headache coming on and gently massages her forehead with the fingers of her right hand. After a moment, she looks up to check the time on the microwave and catches sight of the spines of two books that she saw at the book store the other day when she was shopping with Maureen. What to Expect When You're Expecting and A to Z Baby Names look back at her, mocking her, and she suddenly feels sick.

She feels the tears start to fall, the only ones she's shed since she read her chart in the empty hospital room, and she tries to fight them. But fighting the tears only adds to her nausea, and she quickly makes her way to the bathroom, dropping to her knees in front of the toilet and throwing up what little she'd managed to force down at dinner. Words fill her mind, written in Dr. Hirsch's messy scrawl, making the nausea even worse.

Eleven weeks.
Heavy vaginal bleeding combined with back pain and abdominal cramps.
Incomplete miscarriage. No obvious cause.
D&C performed without further complication.

Finally, her stomach stops heaving and she reaches up to flush the toilet, pushing back onto her butt and sitting on the bathroom floor with her back against the porcelain of the bathtub. It's not until she feels a cool wash cloth pressing against her forehead that she realizes Elliot is in the bathroom with her and she opens her eyes slowly, looking up at him.

"You okay?" Elliot asks, wiping her face with the cloth and then sitting down on the floor next to her, gently rubbing her back.

She nods, relaxing as his hand continues to draw circles through his T-shirt that she had slipped on before going to bed. "I'm okay. Just..." she trails off and Elliot nods, understanding.

"Just to be on the safe side, let's take your temperature. Dr. Hirsch said that vomiting and fever were signs of an infection." He stands up, making his way to the medicine cabinet and digging around until he finds the thermometer.

"I'm fine," Olivia says again, but places it under her tongue when he hands it to her without further complaint. They sit in silence for a few minutes until it beeps. Olivia looks at it, then hands it to him. "99.2."

"Good," Elliot says, taking the thermometer back from her. "Do you feel well enough to go back to bed?"

"I think I should stay here for a couple more minutes," Olivia says, shaking her head. "I think I'm okay, I just...I don't want to get up too soon."

He nods. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"We don't have any ginger ale, do we?" she asks.

"I doubt it, but I can go get some. Anything else you need?" He starts to stand up and she stops him, resting her head against his chest. He can feel her start to cry and he wraps his arms around her, holding her tighter against him. "God, Liv, I don't know what to do to make this better. I don't..." he trails off, continuing to rock her as she cries, her tears soaking through the wifebeater that covers his chest. "Tell me what to do and it's done, Liv. Anything."

She mumbles something when her tears finally slow and he kisses the top of her head before whispering close to her ear, "what'd you say?"

"I don't know either," she repeats, breaking away from him and slowly getting up from the floor. She makes her way to the sink, reaching for her toothbrush, and Elliot watches her for a moment. "I don't know what to do, either," she says again, barely audible, before putting toothpaste on the brush.

- - -

Olivia is standing in the kitchen pouring milk over the bowl of cereal that she's calling dinner when she hears a knock on the door to the apartment. Elliot is at Elizabeth's basketball game, so she sets the milk carton on the counter and hurries to the door, looking through the peep hole. On the other side stands her captain, looking like he's not very happy with her.

She unlocks the door quickly and opens it, motioning for him to come inside. "I was going to call you," Olivia explains, looking down at the floor. "I just..."

Don nods, stopping her from explaining further. "I know. I just needed to talk to you about a few things. Elliot stopped by the precinct earlier to pick up some stuff before going to Elizabeth's game and I figured stopping by when he wasn't home was the best way to get you to talk."

Olivia smiles slightly and nods, heading back towards the kitchen, followed closely by Don. He stands a few feet away from her, leaning against the counter, and watches as she pours a little bit more milk on what he only assumes is cereal.

"That doesn't look real healthy," he points out.

"It's Cookie Crisps. Dickie and Liz eat them all the time. I, uh...I needed some comfort food, you know?" Olivia says, pulling open a drawer and finding a spoon. "What'd you need to talk to me about?" she asks, looking at the counter instead of at him.

"Elliot said the doctor gave you a week, minimum, before you could come back to work. Monday is a week and I wanted to make sure we were clear on a few things before you show up expecting to be out in the field." Olivia nods, waiting for him to continue. She had figured that's what he was here to talk to her about. "I'm not going to pretend to understand what you're going through enough to know how you feel, or even to tell you how to handle it. But I can't let you back in the field, around suspects, and carrying a gun until you've talked to a shrink."

"I figured," Olivia says, running her hand through her hair. "I'm going to. I know I need to, but I..." she trails off. "I don't know if I'm ready to talk about it yet."

He nods, reaching over to lay his hand on her forearm. "And that's fine. You have quite a bit of personal time saved up and if you need more...we'll work something out. I didn't come over to tell you that you had to be at work on Monday, just to tell you that you need to talk to someone before you do. Huang said to just let him know when and he'd clear his schedule for you, or that if you felt more comfortable talking to a woman, he'd recommend some people."

Olivia nods, biting her lip, trying not to cry. She hasn't talked about this with anyone but Elliot, not even Casey, and even with him, she doesn't say much. She doesn't want to think about it; doesn't want to talk about how she feels or how much it hurts with someone who has absolutely no idea what she's going through. Talking about it makes it real. Talking about it with Don makes it almost physically painful. "I'll call him. Not yet, but I will."

"Just keep me posted on what's going on. And don't forget to return my phone calls, either," Don warns. Olivia forces a smile, trying to keep the tears that are filling her eyes from falling. "Hey, uh... how about I take you to dinner?" he asks, pointing to her now soggy cereal. "I was supposed to meet an old friend for dinner but he called to cancel a few minutes ago." He sees her hesitation and he makes the mistake of pushing harder. "It'd do you good to get out for a little while. Come on, my treat."

Olivia shakes her head, resting her hand over his. "Thanks, but I don't really feel up to going out. I'm not very hungry anyway."

"Do you want some company, then?" he asks, suddenly trying to remember the last time he was alone with Olivia without it being work related. He thinks it might have been during her first couple years in the unit, when she came into his office one night to ask him why he was working late instead of going home. That was when he told her about Marge, about why his house was empty and why he hated going there after dealing with their gruesome cases all day long. He doesn't think he's shared anything personal with her since, and he has the sudden fatherly impulse to start telling her about his childhood, to try and make her feel better by telling her about some dumbass thing he did as a kid to make her laugh.

"I kind of just want to be alone. I'm not really in the right place for human interaction right now. I think I'm just going to go take a nap," she says, running her hand through her hair. "Thanks for the offer, though."

"Okay," he says, hesitating for only a second before squeezing her shoulder. "I'll talk to you soon then, right?"

"Absolutely," Olivia assures him, digging her nails into her palm, her hand resting on the counter. She is trying to keep herself from thinking too much about it; about what it will feel like to sit in the chair in Huang's office and tell him how she's feeling, how much it hurts. About how guilty she feels.

She can feel the tears start the second her apartment door shuts and she quickly pours her now soggy cereal into the sink and goes into her bedroom, climbing under the covers with her clothes on and curling up with her arms around Elliot's pillow. She buries her nose in it, breathing in the smell of him, and tries to forget. To relax. To not think about the baby she lost. His baby. The baby that was supposed to have his eyes. His smile. His love.

- - -

She's sound asleep when Elliot returns to the apartment. He is about to wake her up, to ask her if she's eaten yet, but he sees her soft smile as she sleeps and he decides not to wake her just yet. She looks too peaceful, too happy, for him to burden her with reality at the moment.

Instead, he quietly heads back into the kitchen, making himself a turkey sandwich and eating as he cleans up. He loads the dishwasher, puts away the almost-empty box of Cookie Crisps that she had left on the counter next to the stove. And finally, he starts going through papers on the counter. He piles bills into one stack and junk mail into another. And last, he picks up the books from on top of the microwave and is about to put them on the bookcase next to the couch. Their titles catch his eye.

What to Expect When You're Expecting.
A to Z Baby Names.

He resists the urge to throw them across the room and instead takes them over to the bookcase, hiding them behind Olivia's ancient copies of Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice. Books he doesn't think he's ever seen her read, but that she keeps because they remind her of her mother.

Just as he's putting the baby name book away, a piece of paper slips out and he takes it, assuming it'll be the sales slip from Barnes and Noble.

Instead, it's a white slip of paper with Olivia's sloppy handwriting. After nine years, he doesn't even have to strain to read her handwriting.

Nadine. Hope.
Erin. Peace.
Luke. Bringer of light.
Matthew. God's gift.

He sees the tear hit the paper before he feels them falling down his face and he immediately swipes at them, angry at himself for crying. All of a sudden, he feels an even greater loss than he did before. The baby they've lost isn't just a nameless hypothetical anymore. It's Matthew, with Olivia's big brown eyes. Their gift.

"Elliot?" he hears her voice and immediately puts the paper back inside the book, sticking it on the shelf before she can see what it is. "What are you doing?" she asks.

He grabs the first book he can, opening it up. "Just...looking for something. Elizabeth is reading this book in school and she was talking about it. I wanted to know what it is."

Olivia walks over to him, lifting the book slightly so she can see the title. She smiles at him, catching him. "They're assigning her one of my mother's old text books? How boring." Elliot sets it back on the shelf, not sure what to say. She looks up at him and notices something in his eyes. She hadn't realized until now how much he is hurting, too. "Elliot-"

"I'm fine," he says, shaking his head, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "Do you need anything?"

"I'm not an invalid, Elliot. You don't need to ask me that every time you walk into the same room as me," she says gently, resting her hand on his forearm.

He nods, pressing his forehead against hers. "Olivia...I think it's time we talked about this. We need to. Because I'm completely lost here and I know you are, too, and we can't-"

"I'm not ready," she says, shaking her head and fighting tears. "I can't talk to you about it. I can't, Elliot."

"Damnit, Liv, you're not the only one who's hurting here!" He regrets raising his voice before he's even finished his sentence, but he doesn't apologize. "It was my baby, too, Olivia," he says, his voice far from strong and commanding.

"I'm so sorry, Elliot," she whispers, turning away from him and heading back into the bedroom.

"Don't be sorry, just talk to me. Tell me what you're feeling right now. Let me hold you." He swipes at his eyes when he feels tears welling up in them again. "Damnit, Liv, I need you right now just as much as you need me. Don't shut me out."

"I can't be here for you right now," she says, keeping her back to him. Her forehead rests against the wall as she continues to hide from him; from what he's asking of her. "Jesus, Elliot, how am I supposed to be there for you when I can't even be there for myself?"

He doesn't say anything, choosing instead to walk closer to her, resting his hand on her back. He leans forward, kissing the back of her head as he gently rubs her back in calming circles. "I don't know, Olivia, but we need to figure this out. We need to talk this out or else I'm afraid we won't survive this. We can make it through if we try, but we're not even trying right now."

She turns around, looking right at him as tears stream down her face. "I can't try, Elliot. I can't. Not right now. Not when I'm where I am right now. I don't..." she groans, angry with herself for breaking. "I don't know how to be with you when I can't even figure out what I feel right now."

"Olivia-"

"I think..." she hesitates, looking down at the floor. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and says the words she can't believe she's saying. "I think I need some time. I'm, uh...I'm gonna go to Casey's. For the night. Maybe a little longer," she says, her voice cracking. "I just need to figure out some stuff before I can..." she trails off and looks up at him. She expects to see anger, but when she looks into his eyes she sees nothing but devastation.

Devastation that she caused.

And so she does the only thing she knows how to do when her relationships get hard.

She digs around in her closet until she finds her duffel bag, pulling open her drawer and throwing in a couple pairs of pants without refolding them, some underwear, an extra bra. She gets a few sweaters out of her closet and puts them in on top. She disappears for a minute and comes back into the bedroom with her toothbrush and her deodorant. She looks at him again, seeing the look on his face, and decides that she's making the right decision. That she can't hurt him if she's not there. If he doesn't have her to worry about, maybe he can heal.

She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her forehead against his chest as she feels his arms tighten around her. "I can't let you go," Elliot says, continuing to hold her even after she has let go of him. "Liv, we can work this out, but not if you run away. Not if you-"

"Elliot, I have to. I love you so much but I can't do this now. I can't keep hurting you when you're hurting enough already. I have to make myself stronger before I can make this work."

His words keep echoing in her head the entire cab ride to Casey's. As she rides the elevator up six stories. As she knocks on the door to 6A and waits, her forehead resting against the door frame. Even as the door opens and she realizes from the not-at-all surprised look on Casey's face that he's already called her, she can't get his words out of her head.

"Let me make you stronger."

- - -

TBC