TW: Lewis talk in this chapter.
Elliot POV
I don't know how long I sat outside her apartment. I held the phone in my hand, the answers to all of my questions. To everything that wandered around in my mind and tortured my soul.
Looking up at her window, I saw the lights turn off.
Flick your lights when you get inside.
Those days, when everything was simpler. Before I ruined everything.
I repeated this ritual for three more days, each day feeling more paralyzing than the last, each night watching her turn her lights off for the night. But this night, there was a change. I was just about to turn my car over when I saw her lights turn on. Suddenly, I couldn't get out of my car fast enough.
My palms were sweaty, and my legs were carrying me in her building and then into an elevator. Next thing I knew, I was outside her door. I looked down at the phone in my hand.
With a couple of taps on the screen, I erased the files that had haunted me for days, placed the phone in my pocket, and knocked on her door. It was time. It just felt right.
I knew when she was at the door, felt her gaze through the peephole, and when she opened the door, she looked... frazzled. Her eyes were panicked and she was covered in sweat. If it hadn't been 3am, you would've thought she just finished a workout. And her breathing was irregular. My eyes caught a movement by her side, and I realized that she had her gun hidden behind her back.
"Elliot?" She questioned wispy like.
"Liv, it's just me. I saw... I was hoping to..." she intercedes then.
"I know. You've been sitting outside my house for days, talking to people and freaking Kathleen out... and you picked the one night that I am having an episode. Come in so I can shut the door."
She moved aside then, walking over to her counter and setting her gun down, replacing it with a glass of wine. I quickly shut and locked the door behind me.
"So you saw." I was hoping she hadn't noticed, but I should know better than that.
She scoffed. Taking a sip, she connected her browns with my blues.
"Elliot, what is it that you're looking for? You- you go around asking about me when you could've just come to me. Asked me. What's with the merry-go-round? I've been waiting for you to just talk to me. Again, I had to hear it from Cragen."
I took a step toward her. She stayed put, her eyes never leaving mine.
"Liv, I didn't want you to see me like that. And I had always planned to come talk to you. You deserve to be heard without me losing it. Liv, you said you were having an episode. What did you mean?" She broke from my gaze, grasping her glass and taking a seat on her couch. I followed her.
"Due to recent events, my PTSD has surfaced and decided to rear its' ugly head. I'm thankful that Noah is at a sleepover tonight, because I woke up screaming. Lucky for you, because right now I don't have the energy to even have a filter. I will warn you now, if you ask me any questions, you will be getting unfiltered truth."
She breaks her eye contact with me to sip out of her glass. What she does next takes me a bit by surprise- she sets her glass on the coffee table, and turns toward me, unleashing the full force of her gaze on me. Her ability to look through everything to my soul is uncanny, amazing and, at times, unbelievable- and it renders me speechless for a moment. She speaks instead.
"If you want to know so bad, ask me. I need to hear the words, Elliot. Ask me."
Not once did she glance away or stutter, and she is eerily calm but I can see the fire in her eyes, the anger built from the foundation of my betrayal. I owed this to her.
"Tell me, please. Tell me what happened to you."
She cocks an eyebrow.
"Everything?"
I confirm with a nod.
"Everything, Liv. Not just this- but everything after also. Everything happened in the ten years I left- I want to know you and see you for who you've become."
She looked taken aback, and for a few moments she held my gaze, I reached out for her hand, and she didn't move away. I never once looked away, and she broke contact when she spoke.
"It was a couple of years after you left. And never once did I see it coming. I would've never guessed that he would be so bold as to break into my apartment. But, he did. It took me so off guard that I froze when I saw him, and he... after he disarmed me, there was nothing to be done. I was so drunk and high, and the moments of clarity I gained were clouded with pain and the smell of burning flesh- my burning flesh- there was darkness. Darkness everywhere, around me, in my mind- I couldn't escape or outrun it. It was so real, so complete in my mind- the very real possible outcome of my death. I didn't want to die in the beginning. But when he was burning me, I almost prayed for it. In those moments, death was a welcome relief. He kept me handcuffed and duct taped to a chair the first two days, forcing the vodka and drugs down my throat, pistol whipped me with my own gun. Your mini badge- became well acquainted with my head."
What? The question must have shown on my face, because she added-
"I attached your mini badge to my clip. And I wore it, until Lewis."
That did it. I felt my stomach churn- instinctively I started swallowing, and I picked up a paper she had on her table to fan myself. Air helps when I feel nauseous, and I didn't want to be running off to the bathroom in the middle of her sharing this with me. She was too important. She watched me intently, and deciding that I wasn't going to upchuck on her furniture, she continued.
"When he decided to move me, I didn't know until I woke up, in a moving trunk, wrapped in my own sheet. I managed to get my necklace off and stick it behind the spare tire; I heard him talking and a woman, and it turned out that it was the lawyer lady that got him off. I passed out, nauseous, and I woke with a hit to the face, tied to yet another fucking chair, force fed more alcohol and drugs. And forced to watch him rape his lawyers' elderly mother. Every time I closed my eyes, unintentional or otherwise, he put out a cigarette on her. Her screaming, crying out for anyone to help her, and me unable to do anything, broke me. It was a back and forth game- beating me, drugging me, raping and torturing her. I was in and out; the last time I passed out, I have no clue what happened. I awoke when he was in a store, and he bought more fucking alcohol and stuff to use on me when he found his special place. It was the one and only time he gave me water. One sip. He then poured the rest out, shoved the bottle down my shirt, put the duct tape back over my mouth and kissed me. Then woke up in the back of another car, this time on the floorboard of the back seat, covered with a tarp. I was so disoriented, and he was singing that fucking song- and that's when I got a glimmer of hope. A young cop pulled us over- I was so hopeful and in one sour moment it turned horrific. He shot the cop with my gun. Then he was moving me again, his hands all over me, digging his fingers into my burns, sticking my gun down my pants for the upteenth time. He literally threw me into the back of the cruiser, and then pulled over a woman with a minivan, and she had a baby, Elliot. He locked them in the trunk of the cruiser, thankfully unharmed. Then came more alcohol. I passed out. He got me out when he found his perfect place. A beach house. Somewhere on Long Island. It was the last day, and my head was less clouded. I was dehydrated and I hurt everywhere. He told me that this is where I would die. And in that moment, I believed him."
I didn't notice that I was holding my breath and clenching my knuckles, and I worked to breath. My soul ached with every word, every mental image- i wanted nothing more than to move, but I kept myself still. Possibly too still. Almost like I had concreted myself to one single spot. I was on fire with anger and grief- I grieved for her, for the parts of her soul that were destroyed by this monster. And I was chilled to the bone by my guilt and absence in the face of her tragedy. I reached for her- I had to touch her, feel the warmth of her skin beneath my fingers. I grasped both of her hands to my face. I know she wasn't finished. But just for this moment, it was allowed. I heard her breathe, almost a contented sigh escaped her; I felt her hair falling on either side of my face. She had chosen to rest her head against mine. And I was grateful. So grateful for this woman.
A/N: I am sorry for the late update. Thank you all for all of the support!
