"Noah…slow down baby," Olivia pleaded with her son as they walked down the hall at the hospital. She was holding tight to his little hand, but he was eager to see Elliot and was trying to run off in front of her. She was tired and there was no way she could keep up with the impatient toddler.
"Mama…No!" Noah looked at her with frustration and she had to laugh. He'd started giving her the look when he didn't get his own way and while she probably should have been upset that he didn't look at her as his whole world anymore, she couldn't help but be proud of his independence and the fact that he'd developed his own little personality right before her eyes. "I see Dada…" he insisted, pulling his hand away from her and running off in the opposite direction.
Olivia ran after him, completely out of breath by the time she caught him. She reached down and picked him up, situating him as best she could on her hip and looked him in the eye, "Mommy told you to slow down," she said seriously. "You don't run away from me."
"Down Mama…" he cried and she ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him gently on the head, while the little boy wriggled and tried to free himself from her grasp.
"I'm not putting you down if you don't listen to me," she insisted. "You have to be a good boy up here, Noah. No running…" She would have given anything to have someone there to help her because she knew he was on the verge of a tantrum and she didn't know if she could physically handle it there in the hospital. Sometimes it was easier to let him have his own way than to discipline him and she hated herself for giving in to him. She'd always thought she'd be a better mother than that, that she'd stand firm and have a well-behaved child that would listen to everything she said. But Noah was stubborn and she was tired all the time, and sometimes she just had to give in. "Let's go see Daddy," she sighed, standing him back on the floor and holding tighter to his hand, letting him lead the way.
They reached the door and Olivia peeked inside to make sure Elliot was awake, smiling when she noticed he was sitting up in his wheelchair. That was usually a sign that he was having a good day and lately there seemed to be more good than bad. Noah was frantically trying to pull away from her again, and she picked him up once more, walking into the room. She knew he wanted to run to Elliot, and she wished with all her heart she could let him, but she always felt the need to assess the situation first…to make sure Elliot wasn't agitated before she let him have access to Noah. Even though he hadn't had an outburst in weeks, she couldn't let go of the fear that it would happen again.
"Dada…" Noah squealed when they walked in the door and Elliot turned to look at them.
He smiled when Olivia walked over to him and Noah reached out for him. "Why are you carrying him?" Elliot asked seriously. "You should let him walk, Liv." He reached up and took the little boy from his mother, sitting him in his lap and noticing how Olivia stood hovering over the both of them. She leaned over, kissing Elliot softly on the cheek but he turned his head, surprising her by pushing his lips against hers. She had been careful the past several weeks not to push the physicality of their relationship, but the fact that he had taken it upon himself to kiss her made her heart flutter.
She pulled away from the kiss, and smiled gently, "That was nice." She cleared her throat and looked at him, "How are you feeling today?"
"I feel pretty good," Elliot said, carefully stroking his fingers along Noah's cheek. The little boy had calmed down as soon as he'd reached his father's lap and his eyes were heavy with impending sleep. Elliot reached his hand out, placing his softly on the swell of her stomach, "How are you feeling? You look tired."
Olivia forced a smile, and convinced that Noah was safe in Elliot's arms she slowly lowered herself into the chair across from them. She wanted nothing more than to pour her heart out to Elliot…to tell him she was tired, that the baby had stolen every ounce of energy her body could manage to produce…that Noah wouldn't listen to her and she was exhausted from chasing him down the hall…that the doctor was insisting she would need to be on bed rest soon because her body was failing and she'd end up going into premature labor if they didn't do something to prevent it…that today, all she wanted to do was cry. "I'm fine…" she lied.
"You don't look fine…" Elliot said honestly. "Are you lying to me? You don't have to lie…"
"I'm not," she tried to improve her phony smile. "You don't have to worry about me. I'm good…really," she ran her hand over her stomach and tried to give the illusion of happiness. "How was therapy this morning?" she asked, changing the subject.
Elliot shrugged, "I walked the length of the room, with some supports."
"That's great," Olivia insisted. "I'm really proud of you…you're working so hard at this."
"Yeah," Elliot sighed and she knew he wasn't pleased with his progress. "Noah can walk better than I can." He looked seriously at her, "Why is this taking so long? I want to get better…to go home and pull my own weight. I want you to feel like you can tell me the truth about things instead of protecting me like I'm one of the kids…"
"I'm not protecting you from the truth," Olivia insisted. "You are working at getting better…and the doctors have all said you are making amazing progress. It hasn't even been two full months since the shooting, El. Recovery doesn't happen overnight…"
"They want to send me to a rehab center," he said, searching her face for any hint of emotion.
"What?" she asked.
"A rehab center…" he said again. "I'd live there for a while, but they'd work on motor skills and helping me get ready to go home."
"When do they want to move you there?" she asked, not sure if she thought it was a good or bad decision. Having him in the hospital was one thing, but a rehab facility was different and she was scared she would break down seeing him in a place that was basically comparable to a nursing home. She'd convinced herself he'd be coming home when he left the hospital.
"Soon," he answered. "They left me some brochures for us to look at." He motioned toward the stand by his bed and she pulled herself up and walked over to get them.
"There are tons of these," she sighed, flipping through the stack. "How do they expect us to choose? Did they recommend one?"
"I don't remember," he admitted reluctantly. "But I think there were some in Manhattan. If I went to one of those, you could go home. I know you want to go home."
"I want to be with you," she insisted. "Where you are is my home…remember?"
"Where's Maureen?" he asked, changing the subject.
Olivia sighed, "She went with Kathy to Florida. I told you that yesterday," and the day before…she thought as she forced a weak smile. "She'll be back next week."
"Did Eli go with them?" Elliot asked. "I never get to see him."
"You saw him before they left, El," she reminded him. "He made you that picture," she pointed to the crayon drawing hanging on the wall by the bed.
"Oh…right," Elliot sighed and Olivia stood up, reaching for Noah who was asleep in his father's arms. Whenever Elliot was confused, there was always the chance he'd get angry and she wanted to make sure Noah was safe. "You don't have to take him," Elliot said sadly. "I love holding him…"
"I don't want you to get too tired," Olivia said gently. "He's getting heavy."
"But he's not too heavy for you?" Elliot asked with frustration.
"I just don't want you to wear yourself out," Olivia insisted as Noah opened his eyes, startled by his parents' voices.
"I'm sitting in a damn chair, Liv," he yelled. "How the hell am I going to wear myself out?"
"Dada…" Noah cried and reached for him and Olivia wanted to break down in tears herself. "I want Dada…"
"See, he wants me," Elliot said and Olivia felt defeated as she placed the little boy back in his lap. She stood next to Elliot's wheelchair as Noah kissed him and bounced eagerly in his lap. "He's fine, Liv. You don't have to stand watch over us." Elliot's voice was sharp, but when he noticed the fearful look on her face he calmed down, "I'm not going to hurt him," he said sadly. "I love him, Liv."
"I know that," she tried to hold in her tears. "I know how much you love him, El."
"Mama…" Noah's little voice interrupted. "I want fishies…" he pointed toward the diaper bag and Olivia opened it and pulled out a container with his favorite goldfish crackers, holding it out to him. The little boy pulled one out and stuck it in his mouth. Then he grabbed one more, pressing it to Elliot's lips and smiling when he opened his mouth to eat it. "Mama…" Noah said again, holding one out to her and Olivia leaned over, letting him pop it in her mouth.
"Thanks Noah," she smiled. She pulled her own chair closer to them and sat down, exhausted, while Noah continued to feed them his crackers, and in that moment, while they laughed and shared a snack with their little boy, they felt like a family again for the first time in a long time. She carefully shifted in the chair, trying to relieve some of the pressure she felt from the added weight and exhaled sharply at the constant ache.
"Are you alright?" Elliot asked, putting his hand on her stomach. "Is the baby moving?"
Olivia shook her head, "No…she doesn't move around much…I mean she does, but I can't feel her very often because of all the fluid. Mostly I feel her at night when she rams herself up in my ribs." She sighed, remembering that she'd had this exact same conversation with him the day before.
Elliot nodded, "You look really big," he said, and Olivia knew his words were often more blunt than he meant for them to be. He'd lost his filter in the shooting, although in actuality she knew he'd never had much of one to begin with.
"I am really big," she sighed, "I've gained twenty-eight pounds already, and most women have barely gained twenty at this point."
"You look beautiful," he smiled at her and she couldn't help but smile back. "You always look beautiful."
"Thanks," she said softly.
"Liv...I know I've asked you before…and I'm sorry I can't remember…" he said sadly. "But when is the baby due? I want to be home by then."
She looked at him with a sad smile while tears stung at her eyes, "June, El…you still have time." She leaned over and kissed him and turned her head to look out the window while he played with Noah, brushing away the tears that were sliding down her cheeks.