Hello! Yes, it's really me and I didn't forget about this fic!

A/N: content warning for brief mentions of sexual assault.

Thank you so much for reading and thank you even more to the people who take the time to comment…you really are what keeps me writing!

Nick is waiting at the door when Rita drops you off in front of the precinct, careful not to touch you but looming over you like a shield as he escorts you to his car.

"Were you the one who called her?" you ask, and he doesn't even have the decency to look apologetic for going behind your back.

"Well. Yeah. Elliot texted me last night, you know, and when I told him that you didn't have a lawyer…he was supposed to be meeting with Calhoun this morning, but I talked to her and explained the situation," he says. "How did it go?"

You shrug because you don't really know. And maybe it was stupid to explain that you could go in to IAB and just tell the truth and everything would be fine, but you don't quite have the mental capacity to think through all the possible ramifications of your actions right now. Your concerns are much more immediate.

One of them had been your absent ex-boyfriend. Before the official interview started, you had pulled Tucker aside and asked the question that had been at the forefront of your mind ever since you left the pharmacy and was able to focus on something other than procuring those pills: "Does Brian know?"

"I'm not totally sure where Cassidy is right now," he admitted, and your eyebrows shot upward. Maybe Nick was right about him not working for IAB after all. "But, if he's where I suspect he is, he doesn't have much access to American media. So he probably has no idea."

Curiouser and curiouser. "I just…I don't want him to find out and be worried about me. Is there any way to get a message to him and let him know I'm okay?"

"Benson, I told you that I don't…," he started to say and then sighed in defeat. "I'll talk to some people who may know more than I do and see if they can pass that along."

You want to get Nick's take on this new information, but saying more than a few words at a time is too taxing right now. This morning has wiped out all your energy, mental and physical, and you're leaning on him for support as you enter your building and take the elevator up to your apartment.

"Are you hungry?" Nick asks, and you shake your head. "Thirsty? Want to lie down?"

Another head shake. "Did you tell Elliot what happened?"

"Did I- you mean, what happened yesterday at the grainery?"

"Yeah."

"No. I figured you'd want to be the one to tell him, once you're ready." He eyes you carefully as you slowly lower yourself onto the couch. "Liv, are you sure that…"

"He tried, when we were there with Amelia. He couldn't get it up," you explain, and it's not a lie, but it's not the complete truth either.

"I believe you," he says, and lying has become so natural to you at this point that you don't even feel guilty. "So. What do you want me to do? And I'm not leaving until Elliot gets here, so don't even ask."

"Can you just…sit with me?" He takes a seat next to you on the couch, seeming a little surprised when you scoot over and rest your head on his shoulder.

"This alright?" he asks when he puts his arm around you, and you nod. "Should we turn the TV on?"

He flips through the channels until he finds a Spanish talk show and you close your eyes, momentarily soothed by cheerful voices that you don't completely understand and his warm body beside you. You wanted this kind of comfort from Elliot as the hours ticked by last night, but you couldn't bring yourself to cross the expanse of mattress separating you from him. There's so much psychic energy between you, so much raw emotion, that touching felt too overwhelming. It's easier to get close to Nick like this, with no expectations and nothing behind it but friendship.

You want to thank him, but you're asleep before you can get the words out.

You're not sure how long you've been sleeping when you hear the sounds of someone moving around in the kitchen. You assume it's Nick and start to relax again, but then you realize that you're still leaning on his shoulder.

A frantic scream is ripped from your throat and you've jumped to your feet before you can consciously respond, somehow unable to stop screaming even when you see Elliot rushing over to the couch from the kitchen.

"Liv, what is it? You're okay," he says, leaning over the back of the couch to reach for you as Nick grabs your hand.

"I thought that…but then…" you try to explain, your screams becoming sobs as your body still trembles in terror. "I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry…"

"You heard someone in the house and it scared you," Elliot interprets, and you nod.

"Fuck, it's my fault," Nick says, rubbing his face. "Stabler texted to tell me he was on his way, but I didn't want to get up and wake you, so I said he could just let himself in…I didn't think. I'm sorry."

"N-no. I'm fine…" You're clearly not, because you can't stop crying as Elliot gently helps you back to the couch.

He lets you tuck your head under his chin, rubbing your forearms. "It's okay. You're okay. Just take your time."

But it's not okay at all, not when you're back to panicking at unfamiliar sounds and being thrown into fight or flight mode at the tiniest provocation. Staying awake all night with every light in the house turned on, peering around corners before you enter a room and waiting for sunrise before you can finally rest.

The only difference this time is that- you open your eyes and look over at the entryway, where you see two large suitcases that you know belong to Elliot. "Are…you're staying?"

"Until you kick me out," he agrees, and there's so many things that you want to ask him but for now, you're just grateful to know that you're not going to be alone. You had been worried that he would change his mind, reconcile with Kathy or decide that he couldn't leave Eli again, and you wouldn't be able to bring yourself to ask him to come back.

You take a deep, shuddering breath and lift your head. "Okay."

"Do you want to lie down?" he asks when you rest your head against the couch cushion behind you. Your nap, however long or short it was, had made you realize just how exhausted you really were after several nights with basically no sleep.

You consider this briefly. Your bed would be comfier than the couch, but this- being flanked on both sides by your own personal protective detail- makes you feel more secure. Right now, you'll go with safety over comfort, and it's unlikely that you'll be able to convince them that you should all pile into the bed together. "Could you stay here with me? Both of you?"

"Sure, I don't see why not," Elliot says after a brief glance over your head at Nick. "But once you wake up, you need to have something to eat."

"But I don't-"

"Nope, not negotiable. It can be whatever you want, however much you want, but you need something. I don't even wanna know how long it's been since your last meal."

Nick joins in as backup. "We can have whatever you want, my treat. We can order delivery, or I can cook-"

"No," you and Elliot say simultaneously.

"Okay, okay," he relents. "You better decide, then."

You nod and settle yourself in the crook of Elliot's arm, and he brushes his lips over the top of your head. "Sleep. We'll be here when you wake up."

By the time you open your eyes again, the sun has set and the TV is flickering blue-green shadows across your lap.

"Muhhh?" you croak, throat parched, and Elliot passes you a glass of water. "Ugh, thanks. How long was I out?"

"Eh, a few hours. We just woke up a couple of minutes ago ourselves…we put on SportsCenter and I don't think either of us made it through the first segment. Guess we all needed the rest," he says.

Nick yawns and stretches, not about to let you back out of your promise now. "So what are we eating?"

You reluctantly decide on Chinese food for dinner and Nick pulls out his phone to order while you glance over at Elliot. "I'm going to go shower while we wait."

"Leave the door unlocked," he reminds you, lowering his voice so Nick won't hear, and you roll your eyes as you nod. You're not going to tell him that you're holding off on making any drastic decisions until you're sure your period's come, and you don't know how reassuring he would find it if you said that right now you're too exhausted to hurt yourself.

You sigh in relief when you step under the hot water, rubbing a washcloth over your face and visualizing the invisible blood that you still feel coating your skin circling the drain. At least that had an easy fix- a quick scrub at the hospital and no one else would ever know, just like you could pretend it was never there.

If only everything was so erasable. After months of fixating on your scars and watching for any tiny amount of healing, you'd begun reaching a point of grudging acceptance. But now that had all been destroyed. You shudder remembering how he had inspected his handiwork with awe, how he touched each one reverently as you struggled not to react, how he shoved your thighs apart and grinned wolfishly.

better than I expected. God, you know how many times I was layin' there in my bunk, hard as a fuckin rock, just thinking about this pretty little cunt of yours?

You wrap your arms around yourself and squeeze your eyes shut, shivering despite the steam rising all around you, wishing to disappear into the fog.

Dinner goes better than you expected. You pick at some rice and steamed veggies, and Elliot looks as proud as he did when he was showing off his new grandson at the hospital.

He slaps his hand on the counter triumphantly when you tell him and Nick what Tucker had to say about Brian. "I knew it. Knew something was up."

"He's in Russia, just like I said," Nick chimes in.

You bite your lip, chasing some stray peas around your plate with a fork. "That's not reassuring. I felt better when I thought he was at least still in this country."

"He'll be okay, Liv. If his dumb ass has made it this far, then he can make it through this," Elliot reasons. "Right, Junior?"

"Right," he says, and you've never seen either of them have so much faith in your ex before. Nick chuckles, crumpling his napkin. "I bet he's not even working. He's probably out in the middle of the ocean looking for that damn plane!"

You start laughing, and it's really not even that hilarious, but it's the first time in days that something has struck you as even remotely funny. "I hope not! God, we went on a boat ride in the Bahamas and he spent the whole time with his head down, trying not to throw up. He couldn't make it on a submarine for weeks at a time."

"I thought he said it was on that airbase in Kazakhstan, not in the ocean," Elliot says, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

"I had no idea you were paying that much attention!"

He shrugs. "I mean, it's not a completely crazy idea. According to the satellite pings-"

"Christ, not you too!" you groan, head in your hands, and for a few moments everything feels normal again.

Nick announces that he needs to 'get back,' not specifying whether that means back home or back to Amanda, and he pulls you aside as Elliot goes into the kitchen to get rid of your takeout containers. "Talk to him, okay?"

"About…?"

"About what happened yesterday." You shake your head, but he insists. "I'm worried that there's gonna be a leak and…don't you think it's better that he hear it from you first?"

"I'll think about it," you say, which is the best you can offer him right now. You hug him and thank him for keeping you company and he promises to check up on you tomorrow, giving Elliot a look you can't interpret before he leaves.

As soon as the door closes, you turn around to frown at Elliot with your arms crossed. "You told me you were going to meet with your lawyer this morning. But you didn't mention that it was about me."

"Hey, I was telling the truth. She's gonna help me out, she's just helping you out first. So how did it go?"

"I have to meet with IAB again tomorrow, I…can we not talk about this right now?" you ask, playing with the cuffs on your sweatshirt. "I'm just. I'm so tired."

"Yeah, baby, of course. I'm sorry. We-"

"He shot himself," you blurt out, fingernails digging into your palms. "I didn't kill him."

You can't tell from his reaction whether he's surprised by this or not. "I believe you, Liv."

"I don't think anyone else does. Besides you, and the squad…but it's true. He knew they had found us and, and, he pointed the gun at my head and then. He turned it around and shot himself," you explain, wincing at the memory. You'd seen suicides before, just never like that. Close enough that you heard the shot before your mind could register what was happening, felt the blood and God knows what else splattering onto your face and assumed that it was your own before you saw him slumped over the table and realized that you were still alive.

You wipe your cheeks with your sleeves. That was enough for today. "I don't wanna talk about it any more."

"That's okay. I understand. But thank you for telling me," he says, offering you his arm. You rest your forehead against his chest and he gently holds on to your shoulders. "It's gonna be fine. Just listen to Rita and do what she says, alright? That's all you have to do. She'll handle the rest."

You doubt it's going to be that easy, but you don't argue. "I think I'm ready for bed now."

"Good plan. Will you be okay if I shower real quick here?"

"I'll be fine," you say, nudging him toward the bathroom. "But keep the door unlocked."

He looks back and sees you trying to conceal a smile. "You know, if you want to watch, you just have to ask…"

"Just get your ass in there, Stabler," you say with an eye roll, and you're unreasonably pleased with yourself when you hear him laughing.

You change while he's in the shower, again opting for long sleeves to hide the finger-shaped bruises you've discovered on your arms and shoulders. Elliot is having a harder time deciding what to wear.

"Uh," he hums when he emerges from the bathroom with a towel around his waist, looking somewhat embarrassed even though you've seen it all before. "D'you want me to get dressed? Cause I brought stuff to sleep in."

"No, don't worry about it."

"You sure?" Unlike you, Elliot could be standing in the middle of a blizzard and he'd still be complaining that it was a little too warm. Last night he had slept in shorts and a t-shirt and even though he never said anything, you knew he was uncomfortable.

"Positive." You actually feel the safest when the two of you are skin to skin, like nothing on earth can come between you, but you're not ready to go there just yet. Still, after he puts on his underwear and gets into bed beside you, you shift closer to him until your shoulders are touching. "You know, you can put some of your stuff in the dresser if you want. I'll make room."

You hold your breath, hoping he won't say that he doesn't mind living out of a suitcase, that he won't be here for long anyway. Instead, he flashes you a big grin. "As long as it's not touching any of Dumbass's shit."

"It won't, don't worry." Relieved, you lay your arm on top of his and ask the question that's been on your mind all evening. "Did you talk to Kathy?"

"Yeah. She's alright with…we agreed it's better if we're apart for a while."

A while. "Oh."

"No, I didn't mean that- I'm serious about what I told you last night. It's over for her and me, and she knows it too. All I meant is we both need to cool off some before we can start ironing out the logistics." Watching you carefully for any hesitation, he picks up your hand and kisses it. "I love you. I'm not leaving."

You nod as if you can will yourself into believing it. "What about Eli?"

"I dropped by his school on my way back, just to let him know what was going on. Brought him McDonald's for lunch so he could be the envy of his class," he says when he sees your worried expression. "He's okay. I told him we'll talk on the phone every day and I'll come get him this weekend so we can do something together. You can come too, if you-"

"No, you guys need some time together. I'll be fine," you promise. You feel guilty enough about Elliot's disappearing act last winter, even though it certainly wasn't your idea, and you're afraid of Eli thinking that his dad has chosen you over him.

"He'll be alright." As always, Elliot knows what's going through your head. "It might be confusing now, but he'll understand in time. It's better for him to be in a house where no one's fighting."

I'm not worth all this, you think, but you nod anyway. "Okay. Goodnight."

As hard as he tries, he can't hide the sadness on his face, and you close your eyes tightly so that you don't have to see it any more.

But it doesn't work.

A few hours later, you carefully wriggle out from underneath the arm that Elliot flung over you at some point while you were asleep, tiptoeing into the kitchen and fumbling around in the dark for a drink of water.

You peer into your room to make sure he's still sleeping and then make a stop in the bathroom. You're reaching for the doorknob when you hear a panicked shout, the kind that stops you in your tracks and leaves your heart lodged somewhere in your throat.

"Olivia!"