AN: So, buckle up, cause here we go. Now the first thing I'll address is the whole 'laptop shot to hell thing'. It just kind of, gave up on life. It was about 5 years old, and wasn't very expensive to start with, I just needed something for school, it had the capacity and such that I needed, and I liked it. So it was bound to happen. But anyway, that was pretty recent, and the issue's been resolved, for now at least. But just shortly after I graduated, we had a bit of a, uh, family crisis. Now I'm not going to go into details, because it's not all my story to tell, but let's just say that nothing was right. Or normal, or even functioning very well. It just sort of fell apart. Like slowly, and then all at one. Hey, a TFIOS reference. Hollar. But anyway, I'm hoping things are going to be right side up again here soon, and they're already better, so here's to no more crisis!

But I just wanna thank y'all for sticking around and all your support. You're incredible.

I love y'all, so much. I really do. And it's been killing me to not be able to update. I'm really invested in this story, as I usually am with anything that actually makes it out of my head and into writing, and I'm excited to continue it. Still no pre-writes, excluding this chapter, because I had four already written, and in the mist of waiting to be able to post it, I wrote this one. Still no set plan, just an idea line, track, path like thing in my head. But as soon as this one wraps up, which I have no idea when that'll be, I'm intending to update some of my other multi chap stories, that I have totally legit abandoned, and then I have a couple of drabbles, or drabbles turned multi chapter, story of my life, that I'd like to post. And some, surprise, seriously, surprise, aren't even EO. I know right, who am I?!

Anyway, I've babbled on long enough now.

R&R my lovelies, it's always appreciated.

Disclaimer: Ha.

Listening to: What'll Keep Me Out Of Heaven, Brandy Clark. And quite frankly, the entire 12 Stories album.

What'll keep me out of heave, will take me there tonight.

When she came back in she found Nora already changed, and sitting at the dining room table in the breakfast nook. She continued down the small hallway next to the stairs that stretched straight out from the front door to the kitchen. She passed Nora and walked around the other side of the counter, and when she turned back he was missing. She figured he made a right when they walked in, and made a detour to the living room. So she started the water for Nora's macaroni and cheese, gave Nora her tablet to play with, and made her way back there.

When she got to the door way of the living room, she noticed what he was doing. Pictures. He had picked one up from the mantle, it was one that she had taken of Nora on the first day of preschool. Out on their sidewalk, smiling big, in her rain coat and rain boots, with her almost-as-big-as-her backpack on. Nora was pretty tall, but even so she was so tiny that her toddler backpack nearly swallowed her. It was adorable. He was holding the frame in his hand, gripping it tightly. She could see the side of his face at the slight, turned sideways angle he was standing at. He was squinting his eyes and pursing his lips. She recognized that. It was what he did when he was upset.

She leaned back off of the door way frame, and stepped down off the little step there. When he heard her, his head snapped up. And his face changed quickly. He looked so hurt only seconds ago. Now, he looked angry. But she could still see the hurt lingering in his eyes. His quick change, put a mask on bit didn't quite work on her. She knew better.

Those blue, blue eyes, the same ones she has been looking into for four years, looked so different now. Then again, she's never seen him this hurt. This personally, whole heartedly hurt. And offended, and angry ,and upset, and shocked, and betrayed.

She felt like she could be sick.

"That was, uh, the first day of preschool. She asked me for a picture. I figured it was supposed to be the other way around, but it didn't matter because I was too busy crying to remember to take one. Guess it's a good thing she's a tiny genius, huh?" She huffed out a small laugh. She knew what she was doing, she was trying to deflect from the inevitable conversation she knew was coming.

"Well, I wouldn't know. Huh?"

Pain, right inside her heart.

"Listen, El, Im-"

"No."

"No?"

"No." He looked a little hurt again, but there was still anger there. So, so much anger.

"You don't get to try to bullshit me, Olivia. And I know that's exactly what you're doing. You don't get to try to come up with some half assed excuse that makes you look like less of a bad guy. You're not going to sugar coat this shit, I didn't drag my ass here all the way from New York for that. If that's all you've got, then save it."

"Then what did you come here for?"

"To see my daughter. Obviously."

"But not to let me explain."

He just gave her a skeptical look.

"Look, I know you're pissed, and you have every right to be, but just because you don't trust me, doesn't mean you get to jump to asshole conclusions every time I open my mouth. I may be the bad guy here, but you're the one acting unfairly."

Clearly, he thought she'd bow down to whatever request he had, given the situation, because he looked shocked. Apparently, he had forgotten who she was.

"Mom?" Tiny, timid, coming from the kitchen.

"Yeah, baby?"

"The water's doing that thingy."

She knew she meant boiling, so she gave him one more, 'God damn it don't you dare come in here at me like that' look, and made her way back to the kitchen.

He didn't bother to follow. She figured he was giving her some space, and trying to not approach Nora too quickly. She was grateful.

She stayed in the kitchen until Nora's macaroni was done, made a call to her boss and the daycare, and then she brought Nora, her macaroni, and the tablet to the living room. She asked Nora if she would watch some of 'her shows' as she liked to call them, and let Mommy talk to Mr. Elliot for a while.

Nora agreed, so she got her situated with the tablet for back up next to her on the couch, her little, tiny, lap table over her, a blanket, and her food. Then she flipped on the cartoons, and turned back for the kitchen.

She didn't wait to see if he was going to follow her, though she hoped, but she did notice that the entire time she was in that living room, he didn't take his off of Nora once.

When she made it to the kitchen, she noticed he was behind her. She started for the sink to start the dishes from Nora's food, but she thought if she was asking of him to be fair, then it was the least that she could do.

So she turned back around to find him standing by the table. She took a deep breath, and went over to sit in one of the chairs. He sat down across from her, and she thought, just for a second that his resolve might be slipping. He looked like her Elliot, like a sweet, sweet man who was just hurt. And sad, and betrayed, and upset. But not so angry. Now, she doesn't blame him for being so angry, she'd expected nothing less. Hell, she'd be just as angry, if not angrier. She thought he was handling it pretty damn well. But it's just hard, to see the one person you've loved for nearly sixteen years, be so angry, because they were so hurt. And it all be because of you. He's been angry, he's been irate at her before, but she knows she's never hurt him this personally and this deeply.

"At the least, tell me what you're thinking."

He seemed to be off somewhere else there for a moment, and so he looks up at her from the table, eyes still wide, and says, "She looks just like you."

She makes a scoffing sound, because he's insane. That kid is him, in a tiny, few feet high, frame. Through, and through.

He looks up at her like she's nuts, and he's offended.

"She's you. Literally identically, Elliot. She even looks like you when she sleeps. The only thing she got from me is her inability to sleep past 7 a.m. Now when she was born, different story. But she just morphed into a little you."

Something there peaked his interest. And she wishes she knew what it was. Four years ago, she would have know what it was.

"What?"

He sort of just shakes his head and looks away. But she wants him to talk to her, not to shut her out. As painful as she knows it will be, this is her fault, so she wants to tell him anything and everything he wants to know about Nora.

"When she was born. I missed it, Olivia. I missed my daughter being born. I missed her open her eyes for the first time, I missed her first bath, I missed her first little sound, I missed her coming home from the hospital, I missed her first cry."

She can't help but think about little Eli, and missing them being born, that makes two. And pain, pain just sears right through her heart.

"I'm sorry."

He makes a sort of scoffing sound and looks down again.

"No, Elliot. You don't have to accept my apology, or even care that I'm apologizing,. But you don't get to tell me that I can't try to make something right that I made wrong. You don't have to accept it and let it be right again, but you can't tell me that I don't at least get to try."

He looked back up at her, but he still looked skeptical.

"Look, I know that this is awful. That what I did is awful. But please, if you want to get to know her, and know everything about her from a half an hour ago back, please, please don't stonewall me. You're here, that means you intend to know Nora. And that means that no matter how you feel about me, this is about her, and I'm, so god damn it unfortunately, your only source into that. She's four, she can't tell you what happened when she was six months old, but I can. I don't expect you to forgive me, or even care to speak to me if it doesn't concern her, or even be okay with me at all, but please don't shut me down all together when it comes to her. Don't stonewall me, and let us get through this so you can know her at full capacity."

He seemed to except that, so she went on. "Tell me what you want to know first."

"Birth vitals."

She nodded, and got up to pull something off of the bookshelf that sat behind him, just inside the kitchen. She knew what he was doing, he was cataloging. Starting from the begging, gathering as much information as possible, and then storing it. She was glad.

She handed the pink, with little baby duckies on it baby book to him. And as he was flipping through she told him. "6 pounds, 5 ounces, 21 inches long. 6:15 a.m. October 7th. It was a Saturday. Pretty, sunny. Good day to be born."

He seemed to be processing well, and had found the page with her vitals, and the very first picture taken of her. So she finished. "Nora Eloise Benson."

He smiled the faintest bit when she said that.

"You remembered, didn't you?" He said without even looking up.

"Yeah. I don't know why, but when I went to name her, that conversation stuck out in my mind. I figured, I hoped, you'd like it."

"I'd love her name no matter what it was. But, that one's especially nice." Still not looking up, but she could see his face had softened some. He was touched.

That made her happy, but that made her irrevocably sad, too. Because he shouldn't have to be touched that his daughter had a name he liked, he should have been there to name her too.

She felt like that was what this whole thing was going to be. Push, and shove. Give, and take.

"You were, alright?" God, still the sweetest man on the planet when you look hard enough.

"Yeah, yeah. I was good. And she was perfectly healthy. Still is. Don actually came a little while after I had her, so that was nice."

He looked up from the book then. "I knew it."

"What?"

"I mean, I knew he had to be going to see you. He wouldn't tell any of us, but especially me, where he was going. Just, taking a trip. Cragen doesn't take trips. I had no idea though that he was going to see you, and our daughter."

Our daughter. That was the first time she had heard him say that and she nearly thought she'd pass out, right there on the table.

"He tried to come out when he found out I was pregnant. But I wouldn't let him."

She could see the hurt flash across his face, but it was momentary.

"So he did know."

"Yeah, I told him pretty early on."

"So about the time you decided not to tell me. I knew he knew something about something. I could tell. There was something he found out, but he sure as hell wasn't telling. Your little secret keeper did his job." With that he got up and headed for the french doors that lead to the backyard.

He stood there, hands in his pockets, and she could see his breath heaving. The way his shoulders were rising and falling, his back, up and down, up and down, so violently. He was even more upset.

"I take it Captain told Fin at one point?"

Still facing the doors, away from her. "Apparently, at some point he came out with it. Supposedly told Fin with the strictest orders not to tell anyone, especially me, but I guess Fin has a soft spot for me after all."

She hears the way he says 'especially me' ring through in her head, over and over again.

"That or threatening to kill him in the locker room got him talking."

"Elliot." She says exasperated. God, poor Fin. She never realized what this may cause on him.

But apparently he wasn't listening. "I don't think you understand how it felt to hear those words come out of his mouth, Olivia. 'Olivia had a baby.' I thought I'd fucking choke on my own air. I asked him when. He wouldn't tell me. Another good shove against the locker got it out though. '4 years ago."

"God, Olivia. I thought for 3 seconds that maybe, just maybe. But mostly I felt crushed because I thought, fuck, that's it." He was facing her now. She was crying.

"It's over. I missed my chance. She's gone, really fucking gone. She's moved on, is finally happy, found someone, and has a child. Only come to fucking find out. I knew it, the second I saw her face. I didn't bother to wait for Fin to answer me. Because as soon as I asked him I could see him panic. But as soon as I saw her face, I knew. I fucking felt it, in every inch of me. And the whole damn way here I didn't know what I wanted more. For her to be mine, and for you to have never, fucking, told me, or for you to be gone. For every-fucking thing I've wanted for the last 16 years to be gone. Or for the one person I've trusted and relied on more than any-fucking one, more than my wife to have not told be about our child. Now I think I would have rathered the other." He was nearly crying now too, but that was it. He was gone. Before she could say a word, he was down the hall and out the door. She waited a second, and then she wiped the tears off her cheeks, walked down and checked in on Nora, still oblivious, and then because she hadn't heard a car start, she held her breath and opened the door.

He was sitting on the porch swing, doubled over, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. And she thought, once again, she was going to be sick. Seeing him, like that, made her heart want to give up and stop beating, right then and there.

"I'll leave it unlocked." She whispered before she turned around and went back in.