AN: Sorry it's been a while since I've updated this, but I always wind up feeling a little depressed when I write for this one. I guess it's just because they're both in such a dark place that it gets to me. Anyway, thanks for the support and keep it up! I hope you enjoy it. Love ya'll!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Dick Wolf had Law and Order SVU and Rascal Flatts has the song Stand which I "borrowed".
Elliot's Journal:
The floorboards in my apartment desperately need to be replaced. On many a night I have dropped a bottle, spilled my drink and even gotten sick on it; but that isn't the problem. It squeaks too much. Olivia had a panic attack in her sleep a few days ago and accidentally hit me in the eye when I tried to wake her. I have a shiner now, and she feels guilty every time she looks at me. Ever since then, she insisted that she'd be fine if I wanted to sleep on the couch. I didn't want to if I was being completely honest, but I know her well enough to know what she meant. She doesn't want me to see her like that anymore. She doesn't want me to get hurt.
Sleep is even harder to get now that my bed is the couch. It is comfortable enough, but she always sneaks out into the living room in the middle of the night. If it weren't for that damn squeak I never would have known. I never let her see that she woke me, so I pretend to be asleep until she retreats to the bedroom. Most nights she just grabs a glass of water and occasionally her pain medicine, but last night she surprised me.
I could hear her rummaging through the kitchen drawers, on a mission of some sort. Knowing that she wouldn't be able to see me well enough, I kept one eye open and on her, trying to figure out what she was doing.
"Where the hell does he keep them?" she whispered to herself.
She finally found what she was looking for in the very last drawer.
It was a pair of scissors.
I felt the panic rise in my chest, but I fought to keep it down. I trust her with my life, but right now that's not important. I need to trust her with her own life. The only reason I worry is because I am dealing with such minimal problems compared to her and I have wanted to die every day. No one should have to deal with what she's going through.
She quietly closed the bedroom door, and then the bathroom door, giving herself plenty of privacy. I had to make sure that she wasn't going to do anything rash, so I followed her. I didn't hear a single sound through the bathroom door and I thought I was too late. My body slumped against the door as I cried. Olivia.
Olivia's journal
William Lewis has haunted me every single night since my return. He loves to pop up in every dream, smiling at me, taunting me, running his hands down my body. I know that I always wake up Elliot because I cry and scream in my sleep. I think that I even yelled for him specifically a few times. He'll never tell me, but I can see it on his face.
I accidentally punched him when he woke me. I was having a flashback. Lewis was on top of me, pressing the hot metal into my flesh over and over and over again, branding me. Making me his… I tried so hard to get him off of me. Elliot barely even flinched even though his eye swelled up and bruised. He doesn't deserve that. He sleeps on the couch now, that way at least one of us can enjoy the privilege of uninterrupted slumber.
Last night was particularly rough. Every time I shut my eyes, Lewis was there. I gave up on sleeping all together. I made my way into the kitchen, planning on getting some water as usual, but these thoughts kind of…took over me. I found the scissors before locking myself in the bathroom…
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Flashback (third person)
Olivia stood in front of the mirror, the scissors held firmly in her hand. The first cut was timid, not strong enough to cut through the top layer. She closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing. The next cut was much more confident. She watched with a sick satisfaction as a long piece of her hair dropped to the floor. It had taken a few years to grow it out since her pixie cut, but now it was the last thing she wanted. The feeling of Lewis' fingers running through it, grabbing it, pulling it until she yelped in pain was too much. It had to go.
It was uneven and choppy, but it was hers. The scissors were long forgotten about as she sank to the floor, sitting in the pile of her discarded hair. She felt relief wash over her, but it was only temporary.
After a while, she heard a faint sound. Elliot. He was crying. She slowly pulled herself up, unlocking the door in the process. Opening the door that he was leaning on caused him to fall back, his head landing right near her feet.
"El, what's wrong?" she asked, kneeling down next to him, running her hand up and down his arm.
"I thought I lost you" he choked out, fighting to stop his sobbing. She was okay. He wasn't too late.
He sat up and pulled her into his arms, hugging her as if he was never to see her again. She melted in his embrace, her arms encircling his waist. They held each other for a long moment, neither wanting to leave the warmth and comfort of the other.
He only realized the change in her hair after he attempted to tuck a piece behind her ear. Unable to read his reaction, she shyly asked "Do you like it? I know it needs to be fixed".
"I love it".
He kissed her forehead and then her cheeks, wanting nothing more than to continue, but stopping since neither of them were ready for more.
"I'll fix those pieces in the morning" he said as he lifted them from the ground, carrying her back to bed.
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Now ( 's office)
This was their third time seeing the therapist. Olivia was surprised that Elliot had actually returned after his incident in the waiting room, but she wasn't complaining. Having Elliot with her made it much easier to handle for her, and she knew that he felt the same. Out of the two of them, he was taking this much more seriously. Every couple hours she would catch him writing something down in that journal, whereas she used hers twice. Maybe it was because their situations were different. Or maybe it was because she didn't want to write about her nightmares and thoughts since they never left her alone anyway. They hadn't talked about anything that they wrote in them yet anyway. Either way, she was proud of him.
"I haven't talked to any of my kids in months…they know what I've become and they want nothing to do with it" she heard Elliot say. Dr. Lindstrom had decided to learn more about Elliot's family and his childhood, but Elliot wasn't giving him much. It didn't surprise her since she was forced to assume that his mother was dead until Kathleen's break in.
"Olivia, did you hear what I said?"
"I'm sorry what?"
"I asked when you got your hair cut".
Elliot looked over at Olivia, waiting for her to tell the tale.
"I did it last night". She refused to look at him. Her hands were the only things that she would look at.
"Yourself? Well, I must say that it looks very nice". His tone actually bothered her a little bit. He has a degree in therapy, not cosmetology. She knew that this was not uncommon among survivors of traumatic attacks, but he didn't need to rub it in.
"I fixed a few pieces this morning" Elliot explained, grabbing her hand.
"Why did you cut it?" Lindstrom asked, ready to write down her answer.
"Because I wanted to".
Elliot squeezed her hand, earning her attention.
"Come on, Liv. You can talk about it".
"It's how he controlled me. If he wasn't holding a gun to my head or forcing drugs and alcohol down my throat, he was pulling and touching my hair".
"You wanted to take that control from him" Lindstrom summarized.
She nodded, knowing that he knew what she was saying.
"Good for you".
They talked about her excessive blaming of herself for the whole thing for the rest of the time. Olivia did feel a little better afterwards. Dr. Lindstrom had made a really good point which changed her view quite a bit.
"You're a detective, not a super hero".
Most people would find the comment kind of harsh, but it was what she needed. Olivia finally accepted the fact that what Lewis did to her was not something that she could have prevented. She was only human. As grouchy as she had been going in to the office that day, she was glad that she went. seemed to be perfect for them.
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They never said much while in the car. It was their thinking time. After their session though, she was done with thinking for the day. She turned up the radio and just listened to it for once.
"You feel like a candle in a hurricane
Just like a picture with a broken frame
Alone and helpless, like you've lost your fight
But you'll be all right, you'll be all right
Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend till you break
'Cause it's all you can take
On your knees, you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad, you get strong
Wipe your hands, shake it off
Then you stand, then you stand
Life's like a novel with the end ripped out
The edge of a canyon with only one way down
Take what you're given before it's gone
And start holdin' on, keep holdin' on
Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend till you break
'Cause it's all you can take
On your knees, you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad, you get strong
Wipe your hands, shake it off
Then you stand, then you stand"
She turned off the radio, not wanting to ruin the high she was feeling. Elliot must have felt it too, because he was smiling at her.
"You know what?" he asked once he parked the car.
"What?"
"I really love your hair like that".
She blushed, turning to look out the window so he wouldn't see.
"You know why? Because it reminds me of one of my happiest memories".
Once she was looking at him again he continued.
"The day we met".