Disclaimer: Recognizable dialogue and characters belong to NBC and Dick Wolf. Lyrics are from 'Memories' by Within Temptation and 'A Storm is Going To Come' by Piers Faccini.

Chapter 2: I'm Your Partner

May 22 2013

All of my memories keep you near

In silent moments

Imagine you'd be here

Years have passed now and you've managed to make somewhat of a life for yourself without him. Managed to convince yourself (enough to fake it, at least) and others that you've moved on. That everything is okay.

But the truth is, you still call him from time to time. For whatever reason, he hasn't changed his number and he could have. Especially after the fiftieth message you've left since he left two years ago. But that's Elliot, he never was too good with change. Even changing his damn number. He never's done that.

This comforts you because you know your old partner is still in there somewhere. Whatever he's been through, whatever demons he's fighting, the real Elliot Stabler is still alive. Somewhere.

I'd give you a kidney.

And a small part of you still keeps faith that he'll return to you. And it'll be as it was before.

Not if I gave you mine first.

The ones we love never really leave us. Not forever.

But the larger part of you knows that's simple wishful thinking. That even if he came back, things will never quite be the same. How could they be? He walked away and left you behind. No matter how much you pretend that you're fine, you're really not.

The truth is you've not forgotten. You never will. And while you've forged a good partnership with Amaro, even an unique closeness that's entirely your own, he'll never be El. Even though you're not fine, you're okay with it. You have to be.

It's your new normal. It feels different and strange – like getting used to a prosthetic limb after losing one of your own. And sometimes you fumble around, looking for the limb that used to be there. But, all in all, it's working for you.

You've finally accepted that this is how it's going to be. Nothing changes, except what has to. He hasn't called you and, except for that package with his medallion, he hasn't kept in contact with you at all. But you try not to think about that because it just hurts too much. And you don't have time for that because the job takes too much out of you as it is.

Then, out of nowhere, like a sudden storm on a perfectly calm day, your world changes forever. Again. Just as you've gotten your equilibrium back and found your footing in this new world without your other half.

It starts with a note someone leaves on your desk. Things have been so busy in the squad that you don't notice everyone that comes in and out. It's in a plain envelope with your name on it, no postage, so obviously someone's hand delivered it. Sipping on what feels like your tenth cup of coffee that day, you open it and a plain piece of paper flutters out.

There's only one simple half sentence on it. But it's in that distinctive handwriting that you haven't seen in almost two years.

For better or worse.

And you want to smile and cry at the same time.

I'm your partner.

But you don't. You carry on as you always have.

It's what you do.

"What's goin' on, Liv?" Amaro comes up behind you. He's seen the look on your face and even though it's been just a couple years, he can read you fairly well. He may be hot tempered and a bit of a prick – like someone else you once knew better than you knew yourself – but he's a good partner and a good cop.

"Just a reminder from an old friend." You say simply, part of you breaking and part of you healing. At the same time.

Isn't it funny how something so simple can do that to you?

"Now, tell me about this man Rollins pulled us all in here on a Sunday to handle?" You quickly change the subject before Nick can question you further.

Rollins starts to explain what exactly happened. "The perp...William Lewis...if that's his real name..he's got no ID...he says he's unemployed, lives at a halfway house in Brooklyn."

"Does he have a record?"

"Yeah, he should, but I can't find anything, because I can't run his prints."

"What are you talking about?" You ask because that's strange to you. Anyone can run prints. What exactly is going on here?

"His prints...they're burned off. He claims it was a kitchen accident."

"You're not buying it?"

"It just seems really convenient. And, I dunno, there's something really off about this guy." Rollins seems troubled and while the rest of the squad doesn't necessarily share the depth of her concern, they respect her hunches. And so do you.

Lewis seems harmless enough, his crime a simple misdemeanor on the surface. But still waters run very, very deep and while the surface seems calm and pleasant enough, the depths are dark, so dark.

You interview him and by the time you're done, you want to take a shower. There's something so very, very wrong about Lewis but you can't really pin anything on him because he's slick, so slick. He's got an answer for everything. He dodges and he twists, he's worse than a snake.

And that smile? It chills you to the bone.

What you don't see is that you're at the edge of a very deep abyss and it isn't until you start to fall that you finally start to see the real danger. He's been playing with you, like a cat with a mouse and you don't see the claws before they're already around you.

You think that you've seen hell. But you haven't seen anything yet.

The nightmares are still to come.

The thunder has begun

A storm is gonna come