A/N: I know, I know! Please don't start. My inspiration had dwindled, and only recently did it suddenly return. I already have another chap after this one, but it still needs some minor editing. Hopefully another one will be up soon, but until then, enjoy this one! It's in Elliot's POV, just like where we left off last. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about our dear old Liv! How could I when this story is completely about her? Lol. She's got her time to shine coming up here soon. And I know many of you have waited a long time for me to add more to this, so I hope I didn't disappoint anyone! R&R and let me know!
TangoSVU
He rests off and on throughout the night, but most of the time he just watches her, and thinks. Every time he's had to wake her in the squad room, she's always been lying on her back with her hands free, usually dropped on top of some files as if she could work from her dreams. But here, on his lap, he finds Olivia sleeping on her side, with legs tucked in and a hand clasped into a fist before her face. It's a defensive position, which strikes him since she lives her life on the offensive, protecting others instead of herself. He wonders which is an act that she has generated – built upon – and which is her true self; why it comes out like this, and when.
There isn't much time anymore to contemplate however, because Olivia stirs, laying on her back and uncurling her fists. Her eyes are still closed though. Elliot chances a glance at his watch. It's nearly 5am; she's been asleep for almost 10 hrs. He (they) has to be at work in a few hours. Does he dare to go home to shower, risking Kathy's wrath? How is he supposed to explain a night at Olivia's? Kathy won't understand the reasoning, won't believe him when he tells her nothing happened. Maybe he should just say he caught a case and didn't have a chance to call. She doesn't like that excuse, he knows, especially since little Eli, but she's never questioned him on it either. Yes, that's what he'll do. He'll go home, kiss his wife (instead of the woman in his lap), cradle his son, and go back to work. Fix someone else's problems while ignoring his own.
Just as he's decided that, Olivia opens her eyes, looks up at him and he watches as her pupils go from tiny sleeper eyes to wide surprise eyes. "What the hell happened?" she gasps, flinging herself up; a movement she instantly regrets.
She scoots away from him, cradling her head in an attempt to stop its reeling though the obvious pain streaking all across her face gives her away. She looks back to him, her head tilted at an angle. "What are you doing here?"
There's a strain, in her voice, a glint in her eye but Elliot can't tell if it's because she really can't remember, or because she wishes he wasn't here. Not wanting to fight with her, he stands up. "You were wasted, Olivia. The bartender – at the Velvet Room – " he throws that in as a punch, to gauge her reaction. But she just closes her eyes, cradles her head again and he's not sure what that means so he just continues. "Called me and I picked you up, brought you back here," a pause. "stayed to make sure you were okay."
She mumbles from underneath her arm. "Well you shouldn't have wasted the effort, so don't expect a medal for your chivalry."
Even if it's still just trickling from the remains of the liquor, Elliot can't help smiling at the biting humor, a wit he's rarely seen since their first few years together as partners. He doesn't go so far as to sit on the couch again, but he stoops, comes down closer to her level, like he does with children so they'll talk to him. "Olivia, you're not okay." He doesn't phrase it as a question because he doesn't want her to be able to get out of it. She has to face this, whatever this is.
She doesn't answer, but she turns away and her shoulders start to quiver. Is she crying? He's seen her teary-eyed before, maybe even a little sniffly, but never crying. "Liv?" he asks gently, touching her knee.
There's a panicked gasp – almost a scream – a startling sound as she literally leaps from the couch and scurries into her room. The door slams shut behind her, leaving a stunned Elliot in her wake. His utter confusion is evident. What the hell just happened?
Elliot follows her trail, doesn't dare to tap on the door and spook her more. "Liv," he whispers, then pauses, desperate to hear any kind of answer. "Liv, just talk to me."
But there's no sound behind the door. He waits there, second after agonizing second until over a full minute has passed. "I'm leaving now," he says finally, "But I'm not leaving you. Ever." Still nothing. He's sure his eyes should've burned a hole through the door by now; he's been staring at it so hard. But there's nothing, not even a faint creak. Eventually he turns, let's himself out. He's so scared of losing her.
