One More Day

(Chapter Two: Imaginary Friend)

Elliot tucked wrapped the towel around his waist and twisted the cap off the bottle of prescription pills he was now taking in an attempt to help hide his depression after the loss of his best friend. He popped a few pills into his mouth and leaned down to sip water from the sink in front of him.

He stretched and exhaled deeply as he patted his chest dry with another towel. It had been six weeks already and he didn't feel any better about the situation than he did the day it happened. She was gone and it killed him to think that he would never see her again.

Elliot put a dab of tooth paste on his tooth brush and reached up to wipe the steam from the mirror. There standing behind him in the reflection was Olivia.

Elliot gasped and turned around to look at her. Her hair was perfect and her lips were glossed. Not scratches or blood or any sign of the accident. She wore black slacks, heeled boots and a nice blue blouse, the way she did many days at work. Displayed on her belt was her badge and her gun was in the holster at her side.

Elliot shook his head and rubbed his eyes. There was no way she was real. Just a few weeks ago he had stood beside her casket and watched as they lowered her into the ground. This couldn't be real. But when he opened his eyes, she was still there.

"You're dead," he managed to mumble as he rubbed his eyes again.

"I am," she replied as she sat on the bathroom counter to stare at him.

"Then why are you here? How can I see you and talk to you and…." Elliot reached out to comb his fingers through her long dark hair, "touch you…." he said still a bit confused. "You're not real, are you?"

"I am to you."

"Why are you here? If you are dea….gone, why are you standing here with me?"

"Because you needed me. You're not ready to let go yet. So I am still here. Well, up here anyway," she said reaching to touch his temple.

"So you're not real? You are just a figment of my imagination?"

"I am whatever I need to be to get you through this."

"I am imagining dead people standing in the room talking to me. And I am talking back. And I can touch you and feel you and I think you are real. But you are not real. In reality, you are gone. I was at your funeral. I watched them bury you. I visit your grave three times a week and take you…."

"White roses," she said cutting him off. "They were my favorite."

"If you cant be real, if I cant have you back, then why are you here?"

"I am here because something inside of you refuses to let go of me. I am only real to you."

"It has to be these pills. I am having hallucinations because of the pills?"

"The pills are not healthy, but me being here has nothing to do with them."

"I'm going crazy," Elliot said and she laughed.

"No more crazy than you were before."

"God I missed your laugh."

"I know."

"There are just so many things I never told you. Things that you should have known."

"You could tell me now."

"It isn't the same now. Now I am standing in my bathroom in a towel talking to a ghost."

Olivia smiled.

"Now, you are ten minutes from being late for work."

"Shit, you're right." Elliot answered as he quickly brushed his teeth and threw some clothes on.

Elliot was half way through his morning before he realized he hadn't seen her around in a while. He looked over at the pictures on his desk. There were several of the kids and one of her. It was from the Christmas party a few years back. Olivia was all dressed up and her dark wavy hair was down around her face. And her vibrant smile was so beautiful, Elliot swore you could almost hear her laugh through the photograph.

He picked up the picture and traced his fingertip over the curve of her face.

"I hate that picture," Olivia's voice sounded from behind him.

Elliot turned around and smiled.

"It's beautiful. You're beautiful. It was a great night."

"For you maybe," she said as she seated herself on the edge of his desk. "That was a bad night."

"I thought it was perfect."

Olivia shook her head.

"My date stood me up. When I called him, I got dumped. My hair was a frizzy mess and I couldn't do anything with it. I lost an earring, the strap of my shoe broke and I really just wanted to go back home."

"But you didn't."

"No," she said tipping her head to one side and smiling. "You asked me to stay. I took my shoes off and danced barefoot all night to the Christmas songs the orchestra played."

"It was a good night."

"I can't count the number of times you stepped on my toes."

"I was a little rusty at the dancing part. But you laughed and smiled. I thought you were having a good time."

"I had a good night. You managed to salvage the evening."

"Someone spiked the eggnog."

"And you nursed me through a killer hang over the next morning. It was really sweet."

"I always had your back."

"You did," she agreed with a smile.

"Except when you really needed me."

"What are you talking about?"

"I should have been more careful. I got careless and I got you killed. You are dead now and it is all my fault."

"Your fault? What about the driver of that SUV? If anyone is to blame, it is him. He was speeding and he wasn't paying attention."

"I was driving the car. You didn't even have any warning."

"El, sometimes things happen that we have no control over. Feeling guilty about something you couldn't have possibly prevented isn't going to help you deal with this."

"Nothing is going to help me deal with this!" he said rising his voice before he could catch himself.

Elliot looked around the room at the faces now staring at him. He laughed a bit and bit his lip.

"They can't see you," he said softly as Olivia shook her head.

"Only you."

"So I am sitting here having an a conversation with a figment of my imagination?"

"It would appear so."

"I can't deal with this. You are making me crazy."

"You want me to leave?"

"You should go."

"Have it your way," she said.

And just like that, she was gone.

"El, you alright, man?" Fin asked.

"Yeah, I just haven't been sleeping much lately."

"Look, I know loosing Olivia has been hard on you. It has been hard on us all."

"No, you don't know! Okay? You weren't there! You weren't in that car! You didn't watch her take her last breath! And she didn't die in your arms."

"Take it easy. I am just trying to help you out."

"I promised her it would be okay. I promised to take care of her and I let her die."

"Elliot, you did everything you could. You stayed there with her, right there beside her and you made sure that she wasn't alone. You comforted her and you were there beside her through her last moments of life. You made sure she wasn't scared or alone. That was all anyone could have done. We all know that you would have done anything to protect her from harm, anything to change the events of that day. But sometimes things happen and we cannot stop them. You do what you can do to survive."

"She's been gone for six weeks and I still think about her every day."

"You loved her man, we all did. She was an amazing friend and a damn good cop. She met a tragic end that came all too soon. We will never forget her. It is okay to hurt and to miss her. But maybe you just aren't ready to come back yet. Take a little more time. You will know when you are ready."

"Now you're telling me to leave?"

"Look man, I am trying to help you out. You are sitting at your desk talking to yourself. I know you are seeing a doctor and I know you are on medication to help. But Elliot, if it gets out that you are sitting here carrying on one sided conversations….it is just going to look bad on you. Take a little time and get yourself together, man. Coming from me it is just a suggestion from a friend. But if the hire ups get wind of this….you're probably looking at extended medical leave and they will make you see a therapist. And that might not be a bad idea if you are talking to yourself."

"I'm not talking to myself. I'm not crazy."

"Then who are you talking to?"

"She is here, Fin. I see her everywhere."

"Those are just dreams. Probably because you miss her so much and you think about her a lot. It is part of the grieving process."

"No, Fin. That is what I thought at first, but this is more. I see her and she talks to me. I can touch her and feel her and she breathes and she is real."

"Elliot, Olivia is dead. She was died as a result of that car accident. You saw the autopsy report, she bled out internally. It was a tragic loss and we all miss her, Elliot. But you can't let this take you down, too. You have your kids to think about. And if Kathy finds out you are talking to dead people….it isn't going to be pretty."

"Maybe you're right. I think I just need to get some sleep. I'm gonna head out."

"Get some rest, man. And give me a call if you need someone to talk to….or need anything."

"Yeah," Elliot agreed as he stood up and rubbed his hand over the back of his head.

That evening Elliot laid sleeping with a half empty carton of Chinese take out sitting in front of him on the coffee table. He tossed and turned as his dream took him back to that day. He watched helplessly as the last moments of Olivia's life played out in front of him.

Elliot sat up on the sofa drenched in sweat and looked around the room. It was late evening now and his heart pounded in his chest. The room was dark and the air was still. Elliot gulped thick dry air as he made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Moments later he found himself laying in bed alone staring up at the ceiling. All he could think about was her. Elliot closed his eyes tight trying to push the thought of her out of his mind, but it was no use.

"I'm sorry, Olivia. I am so sorry," he whispered in the dark feeling the warmth of his tears on his face.

"I know," he heard her whisper in return.

Elliot took a deep breath and opened his eyes to see her laying there beside him in the bed.

"Maybe I am crazy. But I don't think I can let you go."

"You will when you are ready."

"How long will you be here?"

"Until you don't need me anymore."

"Where do you go when you aren't with me?"

"I don't go anywhere," she said placing her palm against his chest to feel his heartbeat. "I am always with you."

"I miss you so much," he said softly reaching to touch her cheek. "I didn't mean it….when I told you to go. I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay."

"Then I will stay."

"Just like that. It is that easy."

"I am a figment of your imagination Elliot, I do what you want me to do. You say stay, I stay."

"Stay," he said softly. "I just might be crazy. All I know is that when you are here with me is the only time I feel like myself. That is the only time I don't feel crazy."

"You're not crazy. You're….lonely."

"Do you really mean that or are you just saying that because it is what I want to hear?"

"Is there really a difference anymore?"

"I guess you are right."

She smiled and combed her fingers through his short hair.

"You're hair is getting long. You need a haircut."

"How long can you stay?" he asked again. "Am I just going to wake up someday and just like that you are gone?"

"I don't know. I am not quite sure how this works. I don't really know all of the rules of conversation with the living."

"So are you a ghost or are you just something from my imagination?"

"I'm not really sure. A little of both maybe."

"If I am not crazy now, I will be before long."

"Shhh," she said as she leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "Try to relax. You are too stressed. Close your eyes and try to get some rest."

"I'm afraid to."

"You are not afraid of anything."

"I'm afraid that if I fall asleep….you wont be here when I wake up."

"Do you want me to be?"

"I do."

"Close your eyes, El. I'm not going anywhere. When you wake up in the morning I will be right here beside you."

Elliot stared into her eyes as he nodded his head. She smiled at him across her pillow and watched as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.