A/N: Random one shot
Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise
I don't have a choice but I'd still choose you
Oh I don't love you but I always will
(Poison & Wine - The Civil Wars)
Every time he closed his eyes, they were there, bright cappuccino colored orbs staring back at him, like some lighthouse beckoning his weathered boat back to the shore. It was those moments, right in the space between asleep and awake that he loved the most because in the midst of those dark iris', it was as if he had found some semblance of a peace he couldn't remember.
The problem lie in the hours he spent awake, studying faces of every stranger that walked by, wracking his forgotten memories for some glimpse of who owned them…consumed with the way the toffee colored swirled through the dark, so full of life, shining brightly as the stars in the sky.
He knew they weren't his wife's. No, hers were bright blue, sad in ways, and when he lay in bed next to her at night; he couldn't shake the foreign feel of her touch or the deep seeded ache for home.
OoO
She still checks her machine every night…a part of her still having hope that one day she would come home, see the light blinking red and that voice that haunted her dreams would float over the static connection.
Eight months and each day it was as if the boulder on her chest grew heavier, crushing the very will to breathe. Everyone had told her it would get easier but, it hadn't. Sure, there were days where she could go by a couple hours without thinking of him. Until she saw something…their favorite Chinese place, the ink spot on the desk that would always be his, and it was like everything came rushing back. The missing him was less physical than it was having someone there who could just look at her, and know.
Sighing she pours herself a glass of red wine and walks to the window looking out on the city below. She had lived here forever and could count the number of times she had done this. The truth was, it was never truly home for her…because her home was found in a precinct downtown, in a pair of blue eyes and strong, calloused hands that had put her back together, and broken her again.
OoO
For the rest of his life, even if he never regains his memories, he will remember that day. The sun shining bright, his toe haired son playing in the park while his wife and daughter chatted on a bench as she came around the bend, toffee hair in a ponytail, running shorts, sneakers and, he couldn't explain how, even before she looked up at him, opened those eyes, that he knew.
Time stood still, the voices, the commotion of the city dulled and all that existed was the beat of his heart against his ribcage and the sound of his own breath coming into spurts. His legs moved underneath him without thought or provocation, the mossy grass sticking to his shoes, the ache in his chest burst wide open, bleeding out, death and rebirth.
OoO
Elation and anger, it hits her like a freight train the moment she sees his face again and she's torn between throwing her arms around him or thrusting her fist into his face. Instead, she simply stands there, every nerve in her body lit like live wires, stuck to the spot, the strangled sob stuck somewhere between her heart and her throat.
"I know you"
It's the only thing he utters, standing in front of her, his eyes wide, filled with an open innocence that confuses her. It isn't until his hands come to cup her cheeks that she allows the tears to break free, to slide from the corners of her eyes down her cheeks.
His hands bruise…his hands heal.
"El"
OoO
A slight smile curves in the corners of her lips, and he hasn't blinked in fear she would disappear, that this feeling, the contentment that began to fill his lungs would subside and he would be back to flailing under water.
"Elliot" she repeats her hands coming over his, attempting to peel his fingers from her.
He shakes his head, "I've looked for you, everywhere, but I couldn't…all I could remember was your eyes" he tries to explain unsure of everything but that he doesn't want to stop touching her, looking at her, memorizing every curve and angle of her face.
There are voices in the distance, he hears them coming closer and he closes his eyes and tries to drown them out, to make them disappear, just give him another moment but then he feels her step to the side of him, grab his arm, "El"
Swallowing hard, he doesn't stop looking at her, staring in to her eyes. She's confused, her gaze darting between the two of them, her hands still over his, no longer trying to remove them, simply resting over them, tethering them.
OoO
The moment her eyes meet Kathy's, her heart falls into her running shoes because she knows that look…the guilt, the fear swirling in her eyes, "Olivia" she greets curtly wrapping her arms around herself protectively.
He pulls her eyes back to his, "I know you, don't I?"
"El"
"Liv"
It takes her breath away, one word, the way he says it, raspy, like it's his lifeline, "You don't remember?" she asks, her tears wetting his fingers that stay stuck to her skin.
"He has amnesia"
Neither looks at her, they simply stare at each other still, the implication of what she is saying shattering her heart, the pieces stabbing into her.
Amnesia, amnesia, amnesia, amnesia.
All those months…she had mourned him, thought he had simply walked away. There is a relief and a hot white anger that burns and her skin and she wants to turn and rage at the woman, yell, scream, cry, explain how these past months had been slowly killing her but instead she looks back into those eyes.
"I'm your partner"
OoO
His partner.
He had been a cop. He knew that much but the way she said partner, and the way he felt in this moment, it told him much more than her words could.
"Elliot" Kathy says again, hear hand grabbing at his bicep and he fights back the urge to shake her off but when he turns he meets the widened scared eyes of his son and he acquiesces and finally drops his hands. He feels empty the moment he does, like the invisible string that bound them together made his hands itch to reach out, to connect them again.
"I'll see you again" is all he can make come from his chest, the sob clenching his lungs, stealing his breath.
She nods, her eyes puddled with fresh tears, track marks marking her cheeks, "Okay"
OoO
The sky is black, the lights of the bustling city illuminating her apartment. She's had three glasses of wine, picked up the phone eight times to call his house in Queens, to find out what the fuck was going on, to hear his voice again.
Instead she sat in the dark apartment and swore she could still feel the rough pads of his fingers on her skin.
She knows his knock, something so simple, something she was never sure she'd hear again but it's as plain as day at two in the morning, scarred knuckles on the wood, pounding desperately.
Her hand is on the knob and swinging it open before she can think and he's standing there, his jaw tense, his red rimmed eyes feral, and when he moves towards her, it's all on instinct in the way his arms wrap around her, his leg kicking the door closed, pushing her up against the wall and crashing his mouth onto hers.
They've never touched inappropriately, hugged a handful of times, but, the way his mouth steals the very oxygen from her lungs is unlike anything she had ever felt with another.
His tongue slides between her lips, tangling with hers, exploring the caverns of her mouth, suckling at her lips, hands fisted in the strands of her hair and she wonders how she can feel alive and dead at the same time.
OoO
He doesn't know if they've done this before and if they haven't, he was a goddamn fool because this is the one thing that's felt right after his accident, the one feeling that came naturally and he doesn't want it to stop, wants to entwine their lips, their hands, their bodies as long as they both shall live.
Kathy had tried to explain, the doctors had told her to assimilate him slowly, first get him used to his family. He didn't care, he didn't want explanations, he wanted her.
It had taken him an hour to find someone at the Queens Police department to help him out but the green kid heard, "Stabler" and looked up her address for him. He spent the drive over trying to formulate what he would say to her but; there were no words for the moment when he met her eyes again.
When he pulls away they are breathless, panting, her lips bruised and he rests his forehead against hers, "Have we done this before?"
OoO
There is a vulnerable, naivety in the way he asks, slowly and she can't help the slight chuckle as she shakes her head against his, "No, no we don't"
She can feel the way he swallows, hard, "A damn shame" he mutters making both of them smile, "Gonna make up for lost time"
Before she can protest his hands are sliding down her arms, gripping her wrists, pulling them upwards to pin above them, against the wall. His muscular legs settle around hers, effectively pinning her as he searches her eyes. She should stop him, this is wrong but she fights back the tears and nods before he leans in to gently pull her lip in between his.
It's softer now, less frenzied, tangled lips, sweet breathless kisses, his hardness pressing against her, his hips slowly circling to push it against her core. She's burning, from the inside out, a delicious kind of fire, consuming, filling, sin and salvation.
OoO
Releasing her wrists, he slides down her long limber arms, feeling every groove, muscle, wanting to make a map of every scar, every freckle but, he has time for that later, right now he just needs to feel every inch of her warm skin pressed against his.
Nimble fingers play at the hem of her shirt, let his touch linger where it had ridden up exposing her soft, yet firm torso, he wanted to go painfully slowly and blissfully fast, to feel consumed, enveloped. Softly, he peels up her shirt, her arms raising to let him bring it over her head, tossing it to the side.
There is no bra restricting her breasts, and he takes a moment to admire the way her nipples pebble, the fullness of her breasts, the valley in between. She's gorgeous, breathtakingly so and his eyes drink her in and he licks his lips before his mouth moves to pull the bud in between his lips, swirl his tongue, mark her flesh.
Her arms wrap around his head, pulling him closer, moaning, whimpering, "El"
It's the breathless way she utters it, her fingernails raking down his scalp that will be the death of him.
OoO
His hands are all over her, his mouth suckling at her flesh, and she's quite certain the right thing to do would be to stop this but after losing him, mourning him, she knows she can't…whatever this is, it's the most right thing in a world of wrong.
Fingers toy at her waistband and he slowly pulls her yoga pants down over her thighs, his teeth sinking into her nipple, blue eyes shining up at her. She feels vulnerable with him, burst wide open, and she is surprisingly unashamed. They've trusted each other for years, but ran when things got too close…too deep...tonight she's tired of running, of fighting the one thing that has always felt so natural.
"Liv" he whispers against her in almost reverence.
Lifting her feet she allows him to remove the pants, completely naked in front of him, his eyes roving over her, "So fucking beautiful"
OoO
The tears slip from his eyes and he can't help but be overcome with the emotion. He hadn't made love to his wife, the one time she had tried to touch him, he recoiled, the physicality too overwhelming, uncomfortable.
This, whatever it was with this woman, it was as necessary as breathing and he wanted to be bound with her in every way possible.
His hands slide in between her thighs, parting them, opening her up to reveal her core. One hand hooks under her leg, throwing it over his shoulder, fingers coming to part her sex before his tongue snakes out to run along it.
Her taste intoxicates, and he wants to bury his face into her, breathe her in, devour her. His lips pull her flesh into his mouth, suckling, drinking, his tongue sliding through her folds, flicking her clit. Her back hits the wall behind her with every jerk and twitch, her leg wrapping around his neck, her hands tugging his ears to pull him closer.
Taking her clit between his lips, he sucks hearing the way she cries out when he does, feeling her throb on his tongue, her heartbeat echoing off the roof of his mouth as her body clenches, twitches, and his mouth is flooded with her essence.
She slumps slightly, panting and he pulls away, rising up, their eyes meeting again and he licks her lips, pulls her to him, hands under her ass, legs wrapping around his waist and carries her towards the back of the apartment. He's not sure how he knows where her bedroom is, but before he can think they are entering, tangled limbs as they fall to her bed.
He wants to laugh, to cry out, his chest bursting with a happiness he wasn't accustomed.
"El"
His fingers come to her lips and he shakes his head, "It's gonna be okay, now, now it's gonna be okay"
OoO
The way he says it, full of conviction makes her lose her breath for a moment. The trust she has always had in him was unexplainable to anyone else, always there, the one thing she could be sure of.
She still is.
He pulls the shirt off and she lets her eyes linger on his chest, how she knows the marks, the muscles, so familiar yet so uncharted. Her hand comes to rest, over his heart, and she can feel the familiar frantic rhythm that her own heart pulses at.
His jeans fall to her floor, and he is naked before her, his length bobbing against his abdomen as he turns into her, his hand coming to her face, pulling her in to kiss her.
"It's you" he whispers pulling her to him, "You were the only thing I remembered"
OoO
In that moment she realized how possible it was for a heart to feel full and broken at the same time and as he pulled her to him, his hardness sliding against her wetness, teasing she knew it was always supposed to come to this.
He slides inside of her slowly, burying himself, stilling, twitching as her velvet walls encase him, sure that if he died in this moment, he would know what complete was.
Gently he pulls out, before sliding back into her, pushing, thrusting, deep, smooth, her nails biting into his skin, their mouths fused together.
His pace increases, his ass clenching as he thrusts, her moans getting louder, dying on his tongue, their slickened skin sliding along each other.
When she clenches, he buries himself, holding her twitching body against his, feeling the orgasm ripple through her, wave upon wave washing over him as he begins to coat her insides.
Their foreheads rest together, soft inside of her and he nudges her nose so that her eyes open to meet his and he knows that he's finally found home again.