Sorry it's been a minute- I like to update frequently because I hate waiting for updates from other authors. However, I got strep throat (a big thank you to my kids' elementary school for that one) .

BUT staring at the ceiling with body aches and throat pain allowed me to figure out what direction to take this story—- and I'm really excited!

(TW very light references to suicide- very minimal)

Olivia wiped her sweaty palms on her pair of work slacks, as she walked through the hotel's automatic doors. He's fine. He's fine-she repeated over and over in her mind. It didn't help. Her mind still conjured up the worst possible scenarios. She tried to eradicate images of him hurting himself, or some someone else hurting him, but she wasn't successful.

She thought back to their interaction a couple days prior. Their goodbye was emotional, to say the least. Hell, she turned into a puddle after it, but Elliot wouldn't do anything rash in response. Not to her. Not to his kids. Not to Kathy. He wouldn't, right?

She continued going over their conversation, and tried to ascertain if anything he said indicated an overt amount of stress. She came up empty. The conversation was emotional, to be sure, but he seemed okay enough when he left the bunk room.

Her stomach churned. Her phone rang and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Amaro's name flashed across her screen.

"

Benson," she answered. Her hand flew to her heart in an attempt to quell the incessant pounding.

"Hey," Nick began quickly, "Amanda said you were looking for Stabler."

"Yeah," Olivia answered. "I'm at his hotel now…"

She heard her partner sigh into the phone, and that churning nausea returned. His voice sounded nervous, "I may have talked to him after Cragen ripped into him the other day."

Olivia felt a flash of anger, but also a weird sense of relief that her conversation with Elliot might not be the catalyst to his radio silence. "What the hell did you say?" She demanded.

"Nothing really. Probably nothing he hasn't heard before," Nick rattled on.

Olivia wasn't in the mood, "Nick," she tried to get him to focus, "what did you say?"

"Just that you were a mess when he left, but you eventually got over it, and were mostly fine. I might have also told him that if was going to show up for you he needs to always be here, or leave and stay out of your life. I think I said he should stay gone or something like that, I'm sorry if I said something wrong Liv I…" she stopped listening at that point as her mind again flooded with every worst possible scenario.

"Liv? You still there?" Nick's voice pulled her out of the nightmarish spiral.

"Yeah, um I gotta go." She hurried off the call, not because she had something pressing to do, but because her mind couldn't process what was going on.

After she told Elliot to leave, she went into a tailspin. Is it possible he did the same?

She shook her head in an attempt to quiet the anxious, intrusive thoughts. She told herself he was fine. He probably broke his phone or something. Maybe he needed a little time to collect himself before going home. Maybe he had legitimate work in the city he needed to attend to. There were so many scenarios beyond the terrifying.

She approached the front desk, and flashed her badge. "Hi," she smiled, hoping to hide any apprehension she felt. "I need to find out if an Elliot Stabler has checked out." The man behind the counter eyed her suspiciously, probably wondering if he should violate a guest's privacy. After a momentary mental deliberation the man decided to provide the needed information. His fingers flew across the keyboard.

"It looks like Elliot Stabler has not checked out," he glanced up and eyes her warily. "Do you need a room number?"

Olivia waved him off, "No that's alright," she attempted another smile, "I got it from here."

She let out a slow breath on her way to the elevator. Her nerves kicked up again as the elevator doors opened. She hit the button for the floor where Elliot was staying. She yanked her wallet out of her bag and pulled out a few cards until she found the key Elliot gave her the night she stayed with him.

The elevator doors opened and she exited into an empty hallway. She drew her gun as a precautionary measure. Her hands shook slightly as she swiped her key and pushed the door open.

-000-

Liv opened the door slowly, and assessed the room before stepping in. The room looked the same as the day she left it. Feeling satisfied that any immediate danger was unlikely, she holstered her weapon and tentatively called out his name.

"Elliot? Elliot, you in here?" She tried to control her nervous breathing but her breath caught when she heard,

"I'm here."

She rushed to the other side of one of the queen beds, fully expecting him to bleeding out on the floor or something. Instead she was met with a eerily calm Elliot, sitting on the floor with his back against the bed. His knees were drawn up and one arm casually rested on one knee. The drapes were pulled open so light poured in through the window. Elliots gaze seemed fixed on the city skyline.

Olivia, still gripped with anxious energy looked him over, and resisted the urge to pat him down to look for injuries. He looked like he was in shock. She sat on the floor next to him before shakily asking, "Are you okay?"

He sat silently, not moving, eyes continually fixed on the New York City skyline.

She slowly lifted her hand and lightly grasped his elbow. She hoped some physical touch would ground him back to reality. He appeared to move in slow motion as he lifted his other hand to cover her's. His eyes never left the window when he answered, "I don't know how to answer that."

They sat in silence for a moment before Olivia tried again, "Wanna tell me what happened?" She kept her voice calm and soothing, and gave his arm an encouraging squeeze.

He lifted his hand off hers, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose before answering. "I called Kathy," he began. Olivia stomach did a flip. Was everything okay with Kathy? Little Eli? "Uh," he struggled for words, "She found out the actual reason for being here. Not sure how." He finally turned to face her, "She told me she was done, and really couldn't do this anymore." He continued to struggle with articulation, "Uh, she told me to not bother with coming back, and she didn't want to see me."

Olivia struggled to find words. Her thoughts flit all over the place, and her emotions became a tangled mess. More so than before. She couldn't trust herself to make words, worried she'd say the wrong thing.

She knew she needed to say something. Next to her sat her partner, her best friend, and she was watching fall to pieces.

She acted on pure instinct and she tried not to second guess herself. They already obliterated their carefully constructed boundaries, and the unspoken rules revolving around any physical touch. Even so, her heart pounded explosively as she pushed his knees down so his legs laid flat against the floor. She slid close to him, lifting herself on his lap, and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. She laid her head on his shoulder, squeezing him impossibly closer.

She hoped this contact came off as non-sexual. Neither of them were in the right headspace for any kind of sexual encounter, but climbing on his lap was the only convenient way to hug him in the way she wanted.

Elliot's hands seemed frozen at his sides as his brain played catch up. She figured he must have processed the situation when she felt his arms wrap around her torso.

He gripped her tightly, like she was his only lifeline, his only hope to escape the violet tempest surrounding him. Her lungs couldn't fully expand under the pressure, but she didn't care. Some mild discomfort would be worth it if she could console her person.

He laid his cheek against the crown of her head. She felt his nearly silent tears wet her hair. Her heart broke over the complicated emotional mess they found themselves in.

She traced circles softly against his shoulder blades and upper back. His breathing slowed and eventually leveled into quiet even breaths.

His grip on her loosened, allowing her to breathe more freely. She wondered if he had fallen asleep, from the looks of things he hadn't slept at all in the last forty eight hours. She shifted her weight in a futile attempt to view his face. His arms caged her in which made it difficult to extricate herself his generously muscled limbs. Normally, being pinned in this way would trigger an unfortunate trauma response, but it was Elliot. And in spite of his unexpected abandonment, and the hurt it caused, she knew he would never physically harm her.

Her stirring caused him to pull back slightly, and his perfect blue eyes found hers.

-000-