Author's Comments: I would like to title this chapter (and the next one), "Elliot Gets Schooled."

Too Close

Chapter Sixteen

Part 1.

Amanda brought a cup of hot tea over to the coffee table and set it in front of Olivia, who reclined on the couch in the younger detective's living room. "So, they said you lost some of your memories?" said Amanda.

Olivia picked up the cup and took two sips from it, and then said, "Yeah, for a little while I did. I still have big chunks missing from my time in the psych ward."

"So what do you remember about the fight you had with Elliot?" Amanda asked.

Olivia gathered the pieces of her recent past into a pile in her mind and said, "I remember what he did. I remember the wild look in his eyes, and how I felt demolished afterwards." She looked up from her coffee cup and said, "So yeah, pretty much all of it."

Amanda leaned forward, letting her long blonde hair hang over her knees, and said, "So what's going to happen with you two?"

"I—I don't know," said Olivia. "I want us to be happy together, like we were before. I want to go back to living with him. I want his arms around me—"

"But you know it's dangerous to do that, right?"

Olivia dunked her teabag a couple of times and said, voice barely above a whisper, "Yeah." She didn't like the way Amanda pointed out the obvious, but she knew her friend just wanted to protect her. "I don't think he'll do it again, but he needs to get control of his anger before we can work things out."

"Yeah," said Amanda. "And it's not just about the physical aggression. Look at the way he tried to control you—how he drank too much, and got jealous, and lorded it over you."

Olivia looked up at her, drawing her eyebrows together. "Yeah, he did do that, didn't he? You know, it's funny, I've never let a man hit me before. But for some reason, Elliot was the one who got away with it. Maybe I was too blinded by love to see the warning signs."

"Yeah, and it's not right," said Amanda. "You need to make sure he understands that before you let him go right back to his old behaviors."

Olivia nodded and said, "I know."

After Amanda retired to her bedroom, Olivia hauled her cast-covered foot onto the couch and fell into a heavy sleep, relaxed by the fact that she was finally safe in a place where she could let her guard down completely. It seemed like she had barely started to doze off before she was in the basement again, yanking against her restraints with all her might. "Someone get me out of here," she begged, but nobody came to help.

A face appeared above her, and at first she was relieved to see that it was Elliot. But his eyes shone on her with intensity, and she knew he was enraged at her again. His hands wrapped around her throat, choking her, and she couldn't fight back with her restrained hands and broken foot. She lay there helplessly as he wrung the last bit of life out her, and then she heard Amanda's voice say, "Olivia, wake up."

Her eyes popped open, and Amanda peered down at her with worried eyes. "You okay?" she said. "You were yelling out that you needed help."

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Olivia, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she caught her breath. "Just having a nightmare."

"Alright, it's okay," said Amanda. "You're safe now, you know."

Olivia nodded and shuddered from the dream, and Amanda wordlessly sat at her feet as she fell back asleep.

Part 2.

As sunlight brightened the room, Amanda engaged in a flurry of activity to get ready for work. When she noticed Olivia's eyes open, she said, "Hey, Liv, I was wondering if you might want to go in to the precinct with me today. Just so you won't have to sit around by yourself all day."

Olivia knew the real reason Amanda wanted her to come along—she was afraid Olivia might try to end her own life again. But she couldn't blame Amanda for not wanting to find Olivia dead in her own apartment. "Sure, I'd like that," she said.

At the office, Elliot did a double take when he saw Olivia hobble onto the floor, and for a moment he looked as if he considered coming over to help her. But he checked her out one more time, and then he buried himself in his work. Olivia sat at her desk most of the day, going over her file and compiling a timeline of events at the psych ward, stopping to chat with co-workers as they came by to keep her company.

Elliot went about his business until the day got late, and then he came by and leaned over her, saying, "Can I talk to you a minute?"

She limped behind him, her crutches squeaking with each step, until they reached the locker room. He turned toward her, rubbing a spot behind his ear, and said, "So where do we go from here?"

She shook her head and said, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, how long are we going to stay apart before you give me a chance to prove myself?"

She squinted at him and said, "It's only been one day since I got out, Elliot."

He looked up at the ceiling and back down at her, saying, "Well, how much time do you need? Just so I have an idea." Irritation balled up in her chest as he continued, saying, "I'm dying here. Can you just cut me some slack?"

Her mouth fell open. "Cut you some slack? Come on, El, I'm trying to get myself back together."

His eye twitched as he said, "Okay, let's have it then. You're pissed off—I get that. So let me have it."

She shook her head and lowered her eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"You know," he said. "I can see it in your face. You want to get your anger out, so just do it. Hit me."

"What?"

"You heard me, just hit me. As hard as you can. As many times as you want. Let it all out."

She glared at him and said, "I don't want to hit you, Elliot."

The muscles in his face tightened, and he said, "C'mon, you'll feel better. Just do it." When she didn't move, he raised his voice and said, "C'mon, have at it—hit me. What, you gonna just keep it all bottled in? Get out all that anger and put it on me."

"No, Elliot—"

"Liv, just do it."

She articulated her next words slowly, saying, "Elliot, leave me alone. I'm done talking to you."

She saw the same anger darken his eyes that she had become all too familiar with, and he said, "So what are you going to do then, give up?"

She lowered her voice to a growl and said, "You're an asshole, you know it?"

"I know I am. But at least I'm trying to fix that, so that maybe we can have a future together. What are you going to do?"

"What am I going to do?" she said through clenched teeth. "I'm going to take care of myself. I think I've already paid the price, don't you? I had your hands wrapped around my throat until I almost passed out, remember?"

"Shhh. . ." he said, looking back toward the doorway.

One crutch clattered to the ground as she fell toward him, her fist flying up reflexively to pound on his chest while her voice grew louder. "I got depressed enough to kill myself. I'm the one who got locked away in an insane asylum from medieval times."

Elliot's eyes grew wide as she dropped the other crutch and used both hands to pummel his chest. She wasn't able to get the distance she needed to do serious damage with her fists, because any sudden movement threw her off balance. But she leaned into him to leverage herself, and her punches must have made some impact, because Elliot flinched with each blow. "I'm the one who has nightmares of you choking me, you mother fucker." Tears flew out of her eyes as her fists flew into him over and over, and she yelled, "You are an asshole, Elliot Stabler. You're the one with the anger problem, you son of a bitch."

She kept pounding on him, grunting with every blow. Elliot's back was against the lockers, preventing him from backing up. He took the punches for a while, and then his hands went up defensively, and he tried to grab her arms to block her. Olivia kept up her assault, however, not noticing that nearly everyone from SVU had started to spill into the locker room to see what all the commotion was about.

"I hate you," she screamed. "I fucking hate you, and I—"

She stopped herself, debating whether she should let the next few words go, and then said through tears and gritted teeth, "And I'll be glad if I never see you again."

Elliot's face fell, his eyes transforming from dark and brooding to sad and empty. Fin was at her side now, and he pulled her arm around his shoulder so he could guide her away from Elliot. Munch got on her other side, and Nick bent down to pick up her crutches off the floor. They helped her out of the locker room and into an interview room, where she sat shaking, crying from the adrenaline produced by her rage.