Elliot jumped in the shower almost immediately after returning to Olivia's apartment. His body still held all the tension from his confrontation with Brian. It was lucky happenstance that he showed up when he did. He had no idea Liv had already beat him there.

He initially intended to let her smack the crap out of Brian on her own. He only stayed to provide backup if needed. Unfortunately Brian managed to provide a triggering stab that Elliot knew would send her into a spiral.

He appreciated Olivia's concern for his career because God knows his jacket couldn't take any more disciplinary actions. However, he still felt the urge to pound Brian Cassidy to the ground.

He let the warm shower spray pound into his neck and shoulders. He really needed this shower to be enough to eat away the violent anger he felt. He knew Olivia would be very triggered today and he needed to be here. He couldn't disappear on a run or to the gym for hours. The shower would have to suffice.

Once he was sure he had made a decent dent in the available hot water he shut the shower off and reached for the nearest towel.

He dressed quickly. Amanda decided to stay put for the evening. At this point she probably needed a drawer for her or something. They already had a bag of dog food stashed in one or the cabinets for Frannie.

Elliot was grateful for Amanda's attentiveness, and devoted friendship to Liv. Elliot very much represented Olivia's past while Amanda proved to be Liv's supporter of the present. She'd been with her for two years. The two years he disappeared. He would be forever grateful to those who kept her together after his callous departure.

He opened the bedroom door, but hesitated at the sound of an obviously emotional conversation taking place on the couch.

"You won't tell anyone," he knew Liv's voice.

Amanda responded, "You know I wouldn't tell anyone."

Elliot started to retreat back into the bedroom, not intending to evesdrop on a conversation he wasn't a part of, but before he quietly shut the door he heard Olivia say, "I love him, you know."

He stopped. He felt frozen, unable to retreat no matter how hard he tried.

"But what everyone doesn't know is how much I've loved him all along."

His heart pounded furiously in response to her words. He needed to give her space. She obviously wasn't ready to admit any of that to him. He shuffled back into the bedroom, making sure the door was firmly closed.

Olivia Benson loved him.

-000-

Olivia knew the night was primed for disaster. As much as she wanted to throw away her argument with Brian, her brain kept playing, 'He didn't want you' on loop.

She and Elliot went through their weird, not having sex-but still living together and sleeping in the same bed, nightly routine. She laid in bed first, and he slipped under the sheets on the other side of the bed. She could feel his eyes on her back, but she pretended to be asleep. Her stomach turned with an uncomfortable jumble of feelings.

She heard his breathing even out and she knew he'd fallen asleep. She rolled onto her other side and watched him for a moment. God she loved him . She almost hated how much she loved him. But he left her.

He didn't want you.

Sleep evaded her. After staring at the muscles of his broad shoulders for what felt like hours, she drifted off to sleep.

-000-

Damn. I'm dreaming. God I hate this place. Nothing good ever happens here.

As expected she found herself tied to that chair with duct tape pressed over her mouth. The heat from the kitchen burners made her pores weep with sweat. She knew who was in the kitchen, who would soon come around that corner with some sort of heated metal, intending to sear his memory deep into her skin.

She wouldn't scream, she refused to give him the satisfaction. She frantically turned, fully expecting the devil of her nightmares to appear in front of her, but it wasn't him.

It was Elliot.

His eyes filled with that familiar care and concern. She felt herself screaming, but that damn duct tape muffled her cries. She begged him with her eyes to let her free, but he just watched. Eventually he turned from her and walked away, disappearing into the distance. The pain stabbing into her chest was exponentially worse than her seared skin.

Then there was that voice, "He didn't want you."

Her eyes popped open as her chest heaved. The pitch dark of her bedroom felt like a comforting reprieve from the dark imagery of her nightmares. She swiped her hand across her forehead, noticing the dripping perspiration that accumulated there.

Her hear raced. Elliot. Where the hell was Elliot? She frantically crawled to the other side of the bed. Her voice felt stuck in her throat, but she managed to croak out, "El!"

He immediately tossed away the comforter and sat up, almost knocking her over in the process.

She knew her eyes were frantic and frenzied, and she needed him to hold her.

He seemed to sense that need and he immediately pulled her tightly into his warm chest. His arms encircled her firmly and her shaky breathing began to slow, but then that damn thought gripped her, He didn't want you.'

The need felt primal. Instinctual. Without a conscious choice to be made her mouth was firm on his.

There was no hesitation in his response. He reciprocated with the same passion. The same need.

This was not the first time his mouth was on her, but this time felt different. It was the need . For once in her goddamn life she wanted to feel connection. The only person who ever provided the feeling of connectedness was the man whose hands now tightly grabbed her ass.

The careful control they exercised throughout their entire relationship flew out the window.

Her fingers dug into the muscles of his back as his mouth trailed the length of her neck. She moaned at the contact which only excited him further.

She waited for the guilt, or that voice that usually screamed, "back the hell up!" But it never arrived. Her hands snuck under the waistband of his sweats, grabbing his hips, yanking him more tightly against her.

If no one would believe them, what was the point anymore? She reasoned. Why deny themselves this?

He yanked her shirt up, letting it just cover her breasts. His mouth and tongue were all over her. His hands slid behind her, gripping her shoulders while he continued the exploration of her body, and it felt incredible. For the first time in years she felt alive.

"Tell me you'll never leave me," she breathed the words out heavily.

His lips were at her ear and his voice was a low rumble, "I'll never leave you."

Her every nerve was on fire, and she knew this was the one way she could ensure he'd never leave. He would never take this from her only to turn away.

"El," she moaned, as his lips worked down her chest.

She startled when his roaming hands stopped and he pulled his lips off her body. All the sudden she felt cold. She whimpered a little when he started to roll off of her, but she gripped his arm and pulled him back on top of her.

"I need this," she almost begged. She wanted to forget everything and get lost in all of him. She needed this.

He dropped his head so they were cheek to cheek. "We can't." His voice sounded pained. His heavy breathing against her ear sent another set of pleasured chills to run through her.

She tried not to feel rejected by his clear sense of morality, and tried to remember she felt the same on this issue. But her body was throbbing, and she needed to have the connection. She needed to feel moored, tethered to this reality. She wanted it more than air. She bit her lip and closed her eyes and made one more soft plea. "Please El."