Olivia brought Melinda Warner over around noon, when Noah was sleeping. She stopped, crossing her arms, and looked him up and down.

"A coma, huh?"

The corner of his mouth tugged up in a dark smile, and Olivia came over to stand by his side. "Good to see you, too, Melinda."

She nodded. "Well, let's see it, then." She motioned for him to sit down, and he went over nervously. She found the scar no problem, and spent a good two minutes examining it. Elliot was very uncomfortable, and wished he could hold Olivia's hand. Finally, Warner stepped away, having reached a verdict. "Someone really did a number on you, Stabler."

"What can you tell us?" Olivia asked anxiously, hand gripping his shoulder. Melinda reached into her bag and pulled out a red file, flipping through it.

"A lot, actually. For one thing, Elliot, your scar wasn't caused by a normal blade." She looked point-blank at the two of them. "Whatever it was used tremendous force, but it was also likely on fire. The way it burned your skin–"

"Wait," Olivia interrupted. "It's a burn mark?" Warner nodded. "What kind of–" Her fingers dug into his shoulder, letting him know that she was every bit as anxious as he was.

"Well, if you'd let me finish…"

"Sorry." She looked at Warner, biting her lip, waiting for her to finish.

Elliot remembered burning and blackness. He hadn't thought it was a real memory, maybe something from a dream, but now he was starting to think it was real. He closed his eyes, trying to capture more of it.

"The blade was four inches long, serrated, and hot enough to cauterize flesh. From the angle, I can tell that you were probably on your knees when the perp hit you from behind. Whoever it was had to be strong, or at the very least extremely angry. Your hands were cut up pretty badly, too, so it's safe to say that you started out fighting and were forced to your knees."

Elliot blinked, and looked down at his palms. Sure enough, they were rippled by long white scars. As he watched them, he noticed a slight tremor, and clenched his fists angrily. "How...How did I not notice that?"

"Let me see…" Olivia took his hand, and her face went from shock to pain to outrage in the space of a single moment. "God damn." She let go, and turned to Warner. "Do you know anything about the perp's size, or–Or anything to help us identify her?"
"Her?" Warner said, curious. "Do you have somebody in mind?"

Elliot looked at Olivia, feeling sick, but she shook her head. "Him or her. Do you, Melinda?"

"If I had the knife, I could tell you more. If the attacker was female, though, she would have had to be pretty angry to do that kind of damage." She gestured to his scar. "Elliot, in addition to about a hundred bruises, you also had a few broken ribs and a ruptured spleen. The knife cuts on your hands probably did some damage to your nerves, as well. You might need physical therapy or surgery for your carpal tunnel...But I can see two possible scenarios here. In both, you start out with a confrontation, and the perp pulls a knife. You fight, and either the perp gets an advantage on you, or a second attacker appears with an easy way of subduing you, like a gun. You're forced to your knees, hit with the knife from behind, and kicked a few times for good measure."

He and Olivia stared at her in horror. At least it wasn't the dumpster, he thought dully.

"It was a very deep cut. Your brain started bleeding in the ambulance, but they saved you once you got to the hospital. I'm surprised your memory isn't more damaged, honestly."

Elliot remembered waking up. Blinking at the white lights above him, a complete absence of thoughts in his head. He had never felt more animal, and had been so possessed by a primal fear that the nurses had had to sedate him several times before he was calm enough to proceed. Then they had told him the year, and it had happened all over again. It had taken weeks for all of his memories to come back to him, weeks for his brain to stop feeling so fragmented, and it still didn't feel right. When Elliot finally understood what had happened, how many years he had been away, and that nobody had been to see him...Here his memory stopped, made up entirely of a black-out rage and mind-numbing pain. He knew that he had tried to walk out of the hospital, he knew that his legs had failed him, and that he had fought through countless hours of grueling physical therapy just to be able to leave on his own.

"It's not perfect," Elliot growled. "Is that all?" He knew that he was being rude, but he didn't care. He couldn't get his mind out of the hospital, and he needed to be alone, to shut out those memories and these four walls. He hated not being able to leave, he hated it so much. He wanted to see his family, he wanted to see the sky, he wanted to walk and trust his body to carry him. He jumped at a sudden touch, and looked down to see Olivia's hand back on his shoulder. You're hyperventilating, his own voice mentioned unhelpfully. She looked down at him with pain in her eyes and the promise of comfort.

"Melinda, can you just tell me the rest of this at work tomorrow?" She was asking. "Elliot and I have somewhere to be." He blinked at her, stunned that she was coming to his rescue without him even needing to ask.

"Oh," she said. "Of course. Good to see you, Stabler."

"You too," he managed.

Olivia showed her out, and then turned back to face Elliot, who felt himself crumbling inside. He balled his fists, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily, trying to get himself back under control. He heard Olivia walk over to him, and then felt hands on his knees. He opened his eyes slowly, and saw that she was kneeling on the ground in front of him. She looked up at him, warm eyes imploring.

"Talk to me, Elliot."

Tears pricked at his eyes, and his hands shook infuriatingly as he took hers. "How can I lean on you like this? You–" His voice faltered.

"Partners, remember?" She smiled softly at him. "We lean on each other, El. This is how it works."

His lips shook as he pulled them into a smile. What had he ever done to deserve her? "I just…" He swallowed painfully. "I'm just really scared that I can't trust myself anymore. When I woke up...I didn't remember anything. It took me so long to put my mind back together, and what if something is still missing? Every time I remember something new, I wonder how much I'm still forgetting. I don't trust my mind anymore, and I don't trust my body either. My muscles are so weak, and my hands shake, and I'm still scared to sleep. I just feel so wrong and I–" He stopped talking, needing to breathe, and closed his eyes angrily as tears flooded them. He tried to calm his breathing, putting his fists to his forehead. Pull yourself together, Stabler.

He felt Olivia stand, and suddenly she was sitting in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck. She leaned her head against his, eyes closed. Elliot was frozen in shock, but his arms thought for him and wrapped around her waist. He let out a shuddering sigh, sick of his shaking and his exhaustion and his tears.

"I'm sorry," she said, breath warm against his ear. "Elliot, I'm sorry." He heard the sorrow in her voice, and new tears leaked out of his eyes. He felt like brushing it off, but he found he couldn't. He just pulled her closer, closing his eyes against her shoulder. "Yeah," he agreed, throat tight. He was so tired of fighting his emotions, and in that moment he felt his resistance slip away. He was so scared. God, he was scared, and he had never felt so vulnerable. And he was so in love, he could hardly keep his head on. He was so angry at everything that had happened to Olivia, he was so angry at everything that had happened to himself, and he missed his kids so much his heart felt like it was tearing out of his chest...In that tiny eternity, Elliot could do nothing but feel; there was so much to feel. Everything was so different.

"El," she said seriously. He pulled back to look at her. Her eyes were shining with pain, and her fingers traced patterns on his neck, sending shivers down his spine. "You need to call your doctor."

He felt like he had been punched in the stomach, and fought for breath. How had he forgotten? "What's...What's wrong with me? Why didn't I remember, you told me twice, I–" His heart was racing a million miles a minute. What was wrong with his brain?

Olivia kissed his cheek warmly, startling him into silence and pulling her phone out of her pocket. "What hospital?"

"Um…" He couldn't stop his hands from playing with the bottom of her shirt. His fingertips brushed the skin of her back, and he pulled back, startled with himself. He rearranged them safely over the cloth. "New York General."

She typed something into her phone, and made the call. A woman answered after two rings.

"New York General Hospital, how may I direct your call?"

He looked nervously at Olivia, and she nodded encouragingly. "Um…" It took him a moment to remember his doctor's name. "Dr. McAllister's Office, please."
"One moment." The phone clicked, and they were put on hold. Upbeat pop music filled the space. I'm happy, happy, happy!

"What is this song?" He couldn't help but ask, finding it a little ridiculous.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "One of the benefits of your coma; you didn't have to live through four years' worth of trends. It used to be that you literally could not leave your house without hearing this song..."

He laughed a little. "It is kind of catchy."

"No," she begged him. "Not you, too."

"Happy, happy, happy," he sung, grinning at her. She looked at him murderously, while trying not to laugh.

"Dr. McAllister's Office, how may I help you?"

He laughed silently at her, smirking. "My name is Elliot Stabler, I'm a patient of Dr. McAllister's…" Suddenly, the reality of the situation came back to him, and his smile fell away. "I have an appointment a few weeks from now, and I was hoping I could move it up."

There was silence, and his stomach knotted unpleasantly. "We have an appointment tomorrow at noon, but after that there will be a three month wait."

He exhaled, relieved. "No, tomorrow's great. I'll be there."

"Okay, please show up 15 minutes early to fill out paperwork and bring a full list of your current medications. Thank you."

"Thanks," he said hastily. The phone clicked off, and he looked at Olivia nervously. "Are you still coming with me?"

"Good luck stopping me." She smiled a little, and searched his face for a moment before letting out a little sigh and standing up, stretching. He got up, too, smoothing his jeans nervously. "I think I have to go back to work," she said reluctantly. "Our murder suspect skipped out on his bail, and we have to track him down."

He missed her already. "Alright."

"And I think I'll check out Kathy's alibi later, maybe ask around my old apartment building, too…"

"About that...I know it's not the safest thing in the world, but can I come with you to your old place? I want to see if I can figure out how Lewis got in."

She looked at him for a minute, a hint of a smile on her lips. "How do you feel about disguises?"

...

Aha...Ha. Okay, I'll see you guys soon.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing! You guys rock.

xoxo