I've been struggling with a really strong inferiority complex about this story lately, but I hope at least some of you like it!

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Because what would she do if she lost the piece which completed her whole heart?

The one piece that made everything to make sense.

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"Hey you!"

An exclamation behind Elliot stopped him when he was walking in thought in the prison yard. He quickly turned in the direction of the voice, his eyes locked on the two prisoners who were moving towards him with determined steps. For a second, he glanced at the warders guarding the yard, who, however, did not seem to be paying attention to their surroundings, but were talking to each other, laughing.

Damn it, Elliot thought, straightening his back and watching the men approaching him, his heart racing. I haven't even been here a week, how…

"We haven't seen you before," one of the prisoners stopped directly in front of him, the other stood a little further back. "You don't look like a criminal," the prisoner's gaze scanned him from head to toe, and Elliot didn't like the tone of his voice at all. He had faced similar people countless times before, he knew what they were capable of and how to handle them, but now he had no weapon for protection, no backup, he didn't have his partner.

He had nothing but his exterior and attitude, only his bad guy role which had helped him during undercover cases too.

Taking a slow breath, he leaned against the fence and crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

"Is that so?" He raised one eyebrow. "What should a criminal look like then?"

The prisoner's eyes flashed, and he stepped closer to Elliot, who didn't back down despite the screaming voice inside his head and his furiously pounding heart. The prisoner, tattooed from head to toe, leaned closer to him, looked him in the eyes and grinned menacingly.

"Those bright blue eyes and smooth cheeks don't belong here," his voice had dropped to almost a growl. "What did you do? Pushed a grandma with your fancy SUV?"

The prisoner's breath smelled of tobacco, from which Elliot deduced that he was high in the prisoners' internal ranking. Tobacco was one of the many things that were forbidden in the prison, and therefore only high-ranking prisoners had the means to get their hands on them. It went without saying that there was no point in resisting this man, but for some reason Elliot couldn't take his eyes off his face. Instead, he answered without even flinching:

"I killed someone."

Even if it wasn't true, it was his only defense at the moment. He had to stick to the story, he had to stick to his judgement, because it was the only way he could maintain his credibility.

The role of the innocent cop wasn't very desirable in prison.

Although the prisoner's body language and expression remained unchanged, something flashed in his eyes. It only lasted a hundredth of a second, and he quickly hid it, but it was enough to expose him.

He was surprised.

"Really?" He gave him an amused look and took a step back. "Did you hear that?" He raised his voice and caused the nearby prisoners to look up. "The pretty boy is a killer!"

Elliot didn't answer anything, just glanced around, maintaining his same nonchalant expression. But then the prisoner turned his piercing green eyes on him again and spat between them.

"I'm Turner, by the way. They call me Bull. And you are?"

Elliot hoped his gaze didn't reveal that his guts flipped upside down. The words got stuck in his throat, he felt his palms sweat, and he didn't know what to say.

There were two options: either Bull was asking his name because he didn't know it, or this was a trap. It was entirely possible that he already knew his name and saying the wrong name would be knowingly lying. It would also be possible for the name to come up later.

And people like Bull didn't like lying.

On the other hand, it was even more likely that someone in this yard would recognize his name. The information would spread like wildfire, and sooner or later he would have to pay dearly for it.

There were only bad options available.

"I'm Smith."

The words escaped Elliot's lips before he could stop them. It was as if someone else had said them for him, played his cards, and now all he could do was hold his breath, wait for reactions, and hope.

Bull looked at him long and appraisingly, his gaze felt boring right through him, and he slowly licked his lips. Then he leaned closer, Elliot felt his breath in his ear, and he said in a low voice:

"Smart move, pretty boy. But I don't think your name is Smith at all. I've heard a rumor that you're a cop, and you can be sure I'm going to find out who you really are. And if you're a cop…" He leaned back with a wicked smile on his face, "… I think you know that kind of people aren't very popular around here."

Then he turned on his heel, beckoning the prisoner standing behind him to join him, and left Elliot standing against the fence. He took a deep breath, but the oxygen didn't seem to be flowing into his lungs, instead it was like a weight was sitting on his chest, preventing him from breathing.

He was screwed.

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Olivia was flipping through the papers on her desk, looking focused, but in reality, she was doing nothing. Nervousness was swirling inside her, her hands were shaking slightly, and she raised a hand to scratch her forehead.

Today was the day she and Cragen were going to meet Elliot for the first time in prison. She didn't know how she felt, a whirlwind of emotions seemed to confuse her thoughts, but one thing was for sure: she was nervous as hell.

Unconsciously, her gaze wandered to the table across from her. It was still untouched, Elliot's belongings were where he had left them, but it was only a matter of time before a new detective would walk through the station door, sit in her partner's place, spread his own belongings on the table and would prove to everyone that Elliot really was in prison.

Olivia knew it was inevitable: they were working understaffed, they needed more manpower. She knew no one wanted it, Cragen didn't want it, but he had no choice. No one knew how long Elliot would have to stay in prison.

No one knew if he would ever come back.

It was something that Olivia didn't want to even think about. Elliot's return was the only thing that was driving her forward right now, giving her strength, giving her the motivation to keep going, so she held on to it with all her might.

However, change at the precinct was inevitable, no matter how long it lasted, and Olivia knew she had to accept it whether she wanted to or not. Life had to go on, they had to help new victims, they needed more help.

But even so, it felt like the new detective was about to intrude into some sacred space that Olivia wanted to cherish to the last.

"Benson?"

Cragen's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she lifted her gaze from Elliot's desk.

"Yeah?"

Her voice was uncertain, almost weak, and she swallowed. She didn't want to seem this nervous, she needed to gather herself before she stepped through the gates of Rikers.

"Are you ready?"

And she stood up, grabbed her coat from the edge of the chair, and as if by themselves her legs began to carry her towards the door.

"I thought you'd never ask."

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The more security checks they passed, the tighter the grip around Olivia's throat became. She had a feeling that her laboriously forced down breakfast would soon come back up if they didn't get into the meeting room soon, and even though Cragen didn't say anything, Olivia could tell he was feeling the same way.

No one had seen Elliot for a week, so no one knew how he was doing. After the threat, Cragen had called the prison warden and received a promise that efforts would be made to prevent Elliot's name from being revealed. It wasn't much, but it at least gave them more time to get him out before he got the prisoners after him.

Just when Olivia was sure she couldn't take any more security checks or interrogations, they stepped through the heavy doors into a large room where orange-clad prisoners were sitting at tables awaiting arrivals. Her eyes roamed the room, panic started to spread inside her when she didn't see her partner, for a moment she already feared the worst, but then she noticed him.

Elliot.

Almost at the same time, he noticed them, and a faint smile spread across his face. Tears immediately welled up in Olivia's eyes, and she wanted to run out the doors, but she forced her feet to move and started walking after her captain towards her partner. He looked so alone, so defenseless, that pain shot through Olivia like a knife had sliced through her heart.

They reached him, stopped in front of him, and suddenly Olivia didn't know what to do. Elliot was there, in front of her, alive, and as much as she wanted to cling to him, something stopped her. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was guilt, she couldn't tell, but then the moment was over, Elliot and Cragen sat down, and she couldn't help but follow their lead.

"How are you?" Cragen asked in a thick voice after clearing his throat first. "You look like hell."

Elliot grinned weakly. "Well, the stories about prison food are true. It's like dog vomit." Then he turned his gaze to Olivia, who felt her heart skip a beat. His blue eyes looked at her so worriedly, so softly, that it took all of her strength not to let the tears well up in her eyes again. "Are you okay?"

No.

Far from it.

"Why are you asking me?" She was amazed that she managed to make her voice heard. "I'm not the one in prison."

No, but I'm not the one who almost got raped.

"Well, my life has been pretty simple all week. Have you found out anything new?"

Olivia bit her lip and glanced at Cragen who shook his head sadly. The spark of hope that had lit up for a few seconds in Elliot's eyes died, and guilt made her stomach twist into a knot. Cragen and Elliot began to discuss the investigation, but she couldn't hear them anymore. The voices faded into the distance, tears burned in her eyes, and she began to stare at her hands, because it was the only thing that kept her from bursting into tears.

"Liv? Are you with us?"

Elliot's voice brought her back to reality, and she looked up. Both Cragen and Elliot were looking at her worriedly.

"Yeah, I… Um…" She forced her brain to work, she hadn't come all the way here just to sit quietly on her bench. Elliot was here alone, away from his family, away from his colleagues, and she owed him.

It was her fault he was here.

"I'm sorry", she said quietly. "What were you talking about?"

They weren't going to tell Elliot about the threat because it would only make him more nervous, and they knew he was already on guard. Instead, they started discussing light topics, time flew by, and the longer they chatted, the more warmth began to spread through Olivia's veins, and the more she realized how much she had missed her partner. And the longer she looked into his blue eyes, the longer she watched that oh-so-familiar grin, the more determined she became.

She had to get Elliot out of here.

And just as the discussion about Munch's latest conspiracy theory was heating up, the warders announced that visiting hours would end in five minutes, and the laughter faded from Elliot's eyes. He turned to look at Cragen and asked quietly:

"Do you have it?"

Olivia had no idea what he was talking about, but their captain seemed to understand his question as he nodded and dug a small envelope out of his pocket. He handed it to Elliot, who took the envelope from him like it was fragile glass, then tucked it inside his shirt. Olivia looked at the situation in confusion, and when neither seemed to clear it up for her, she opened her mouth:

"What's in it?"

Elliot looked suddenly embarrassed, and he glanced at Cragen before answering:

"It's… It's a photo."

Olivia raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"A photo of who? Your kids?"

Elliot didn't say anything, just nodded silently, and Olivia felt the anxiety start to build inside of her again.

"But... I don't think it's a very good idea, El. If someone finds it, they can track your kids and…"

However, the look on Elliot's face silenced her. He did not look angry, not irritated, but suddenly his eyes were full of sadness, full of anxiety, and he answered quietly:

"I don't have very much hope right now, Liv. And you know, you all know, hope is the only thing keeping me sane here." Then he swallowed and continued: "Not that I want to rush you, but I'm pretty sure the inmates are already on the trail of me being a cop."

Olivia felt the blood freeze in her veins, and she jumped to her feet before she could stop herself. The warders turned towards them, and one of the warders began to approach them.

"Sit down, ma'am!"

"Liv, please," Elliot glanced nervously at the warders, and she reluctantly sat down.

"How do you know?" Cragen asked in a strained voice, and Elliot quickly looked around before leaning towards them and replied:

"One prisoner, Tucker…" He lightly shook his head before continuing: "I mean… They call him "Bull", he started asking me questions yesterday. He is very high up in the prisoner hierarchy, and I don't think it will be long before he…"

"TIME IS OVER! Visitors, move to the door, prisoners immediately in the direction indicated by the warders!"

Distress began to build inside Olivia at a tremendous rate as Elliot stood up and looked at them sadly. For a few seconds they looked into each other's eyes, but then the spell broke, and he turned on his heel.

"No…"

And before Cragen could grab her, she had jumped up, rounded the table, and crashed into Elliot's arms. He turned in surprise, she clung to him like her life depended on it, and when she felt his strong arms wrap around her, she could no longer hold back the sobs that broke through her like a tidal wave. She buried her face in his neck and sobbed:

"No… I'm sorry… I-I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, please stay safe," she felt Elliot's breath on her hair, and then the warders were there, tearing them apart, and even though Olivia tried to resist, refusing to let go of her partner, the warders were stronger, and finally they managed to pull her away.

"Liv…" Cragen's voice came from somewhere in the distance, but she didn't register it.

"No!" She yelled, and Elliot took one last look at her before the warders ushered him out the door. And then he was gone. "No! No…" Her screams died down to sobs, she stopped writhing in the warders' grip, and then Cragen's arms were around her as he started to help her towards the door.

"It's okay," she heard Cragen's comforting voice, but it didn't matter.

Nothing was okay.

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It was dark in the cell, only the lights from the hallway reflected on Elliot's bed as he waited. The wait had felt like forever, but finally the quiet snoring of his cellmate reached his ears, and he slowly slipped his hand under his pillow.

The envelope.

Quietly, very quietly, he opened it and, holding his breath, took a picture from inside. In the dim light of the cell, he couldn't see the picture clearly, but clearly enough that tears welled up in his eyes, and he pressed it against his chest.

Olivia's worry had been unnecessary; he had really wanted a picture of his kids but been aware of that it was too dangerous. So, he had swallowed his pride, gathered himself, and asked Cragen on the phone for a favor.

But he hadn't been able to tell his partner.

It would have been too much.

He couldn't tell her that the photo was of someone who calmed him, grounded him, gave him hope, and it required nothing but seeing her.

He couldn't tell her that the photo was of the person who had walked into the meeting room today, nervous and tired, but who had been the most beautiful person in the world, and warmth had spread into his every cell.

He couldn't tell her that the picture was of him and Olivia.