Disclaimer: SVU and all of its characters were created by and are the property of Dick Wolf. I make no profit with this story, which is my own original work.

Elliot had been sitting with Olivia for just over an hour, and aside from stirring once briefly, she hadn't moved since. Neither had he. He still clung tightly to her hand, unwilling to let go for any reason. He'd made his partner a promise, and he damn well intended to keep it. Elliot's mind however, was anything but settled. Seeing Olivia with his own eyes had helped marginally in terms of reducing his anxieties, but his ears were still ringing with the last thing his Captain had said. The envelope he'd been given by his superior officer, containing instructions from Olivia herself, was burning a hole in his pocket, but Elliot couldn't bring himself to open it – not yet. The very idea of Olivia having written him a 'what if' letter was sobering, and not something he wanted to even entertain the thought of, even if Elliot had several letters of his own - one for Olivia among them - stashed in the fireproof lock box at his apartment along with other important documents.

It was a practice he'd started in the Marines, and he knew his brother soldiers had done the same. In his younger days, Elliot had kept a letter for Kathy and one for his mother. When they were born, he wrote to his children. The letters were always updated as his daughters and sons grew, and even when the divorce was finalized, Elliot still included a missive to his ex wife, because no matter their differences he would always love and respect her.

As for Olivia, it had been early on in their partnership that Elliot had made the decision to write to her as well. Looking back, he was fairly certain the first draft must have been penned sometime after the Richard White case. That had been when Elliot had realized just how much his partner meant to him. With every version that was sealed and locked away for safekeeping, Elliot said a prayer that his family would never have to read the words he'd put on paper. But, he'd also known that he'd done so for a reason, and hoped that if the worst did happen, the letters would be opened, honored, and cherished.

With a heavy heart, Elliot acknowledged that Olivia deserved the same respect that he would have wanted if their positions were reversed. So, as much as it pained him, he knew he would have to open the envelope Cragen had entrusted to his care. Bringing their still joined fingers to his lips for a second time, Elliot placed another soft kiss on his partner's knuckles before gently laying her hand to rest beside her still form on the bed. Then, taking a deep breath to steady himself, he pulled the pages from the envelope, unfolded them, and began to read.

Dear Elliot,

If you're reading this, then that means something has happened to me that was beyond either of our control. The first thing I want to assure you is – no matter what it was – it was not your fault. I would never want you to blame yourself.

I don't want to be morbid, but facts are facts – we walk the streets daily in a dangerous profession. If the worst has happened, and I did go down in the line of duty, I want you to know that the years spent being your partner were the best years of my life. Also, please don't carry guilt for my death as a burden on your shoulders forever. I know I can't ask you not to feel any guilt at all, that would be impossible. You are a good man, Elliot Stabler, and have the best heart out of anyone I've ever known. I've seen it in who you are not only as a police officer, but as a father as well.

You have also taught me so much about myself, by having faith in me when no one else ever has. I know we've had our share of fights over the years, and I know I've ran in the past when things got complicated, but the truth of the matter is, I've loved you for years. But I'm not meant to have happiness, so I'm content to have you in my life as my friend and my partner, rather than have nothing at all. You've shown me that there is at least one person I can count on who will never leave.

I'm sorry, I don't mean to get emotional, but I'm laying it all on the line here. There is also the chance that I'm still alive as you're reading this, in which case I'm going to be super embarrassed the next time I see you. Just know that I reserve the right to kick your ass should you ever tease me about this letter.

If I am in fact not dead, and merely injured, but relying on you to make medical decisions on my behalf, there are a few things you should probably know. (This is probably one of those conversations we should have had on a late night stakeout instead of trying to name all of the state capitals in alphabetical order, or singing along to old 80's songs on the radio.)

First – No extraordinary measures. I'm not talking about a DNR here, or anything, if there is a chance I can be saved, I want everything that can be done to be done. (I'm not intentionally trying to give up on you just yet, Stabler). All I'm saying is, if there is no chance for hope, I don't want to spend the rest of my life on a ventilator like Cora Dennison would have had to. As much as I hated Mike Jergens for what he did, because he was only looking out for himself, those were ultimately her wishes. I meant what I said back then, I wouldn't want to live on machines, either.

Second – If it is something that requires me to be in the hospital for an extended period of time, don't camp out by my bedside, and please, don't threaten any of the staff. I know you're going to be worried, but you also have a family who needs you, and they should come first.

That brings me to the third part. I know we made a promise to each other years ago, but you had better NOT EVER give me a kidney Elliot Stabler. You have five children who count on you and while I'd never wish them harm, if they should ever need one, they deserve it more than I do. I swear to God, if I wake up in a hospital bed and find out you've given me your kidney, I'll find a way to give it back, then I'll kick your ass like I mentioned earlier.

I know some of this was confusing, but there are more detailed forms in the other envelope, including a copy of my living will. I hope that you never have to read this, or on the off chance that you do, that I get to wake up and see you soon. If I don't get another chance to say it, thanks for everything El.

Love,

Liv

By the time Elliot was finished reading, he was weeping openly, the second such occasion in which he'd been reduced to tears that day. He was unashamed for his display of emotions though, and didn't even bother in wiping the traces of moisture from his cheeks.

As devastating as that had been to read, and as grim as circumstances currently were, Elliot was immensely grateful that the situation was not a worst case scenario like the one Olivia had described. She was still alive, and although she had a long road ahead of her in terms of recovery, he was confident she would heal. There was a part of Elliot that felt like he'd committed the ultimate betrayal in reading that letter, but as Olivia herself had stated before getting down to the details, the information he'd just read really was something they should have discussed a long time ago.

Needing a few minutes to collect himself before focusing on the more important documents that had been included, Elliot folded the letter back up and carefully placed it back in the envelope. Something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he glanced toward the bed. Olivia's eyes were open, confusion and fear evident in her expression even though he couldn't see the entirety of her face. Reflexively, Olivia was moving her arm in an attempt to pull the mask away, and Elliot caught her fingers in his own yet again.

"Easy, Liv."

The heart monitor, which had increased in its cadence ever so slightly as Olivia had awoken and began to panic, gradually evened out when the brunette heard her partner's voice and responded to it.

"I promise you, I'll tell you everything that is going on, I just need you to stay calm and trust me, okay?"

"I trust you."

The words were weak, and muffled due to the mask, but Elliot heard them loud and clear. He was convinced that aside from his newborn children's first cries, the sound of Olivia's voice reaching his ears after the uncertainty of today was the best thing he'd ever heard.

Olivia had drifted off once more into another deep slumber not long after she'd woken, but for the first time since that morning, Elliot wasn't filled with panic at the thought. Not to mention, the nurse who had come in to check on her had assured him that given everything his partner had been through, the lethargy he was witnessing wasn't anything to be concerned about. She was in the best place possible for her condition, and receiving excellent medical care.

His fears temporarily abated, and having refused the offer to help himself to coffee at the nurses' station, Elliot settled back in to what he believed was his rightful position at Olivia's bedside. As much as he wanted to, he didn't take her hand again, for fear of disturbing her. She needed as much uninterrupted sleep as she could possibly get, and the last thing he wanted to do was interfere.

While Elliot tried to make himself comfortable – a difficult task considering the chairs designated for visitors were quite possibly the most uncomfortable he'd ever sat in – a passage from Olivia's letter replayed on a loop in his mind. Even though he'd only read it once, the words were indelibly branded in his memory, something he'd never forget as long as he lived. It left him to wonder though, was he betraying her wishes by staying here? He didn't think so, considering this was only the first day of Olivia's illness. Certainly, Olivia didn't expect him to leave her here to fend for herself in the hospital on her own, and most definitely not while she was in intensive care. No, he'd stay here for the rest of the day, taking periodic breaks as needed, then if – and only if – Olivia was stable by the time visiting hours ended tonight, he would return to her apartment.

As his mind continued to spiral, Elliot attempted to justify – if only to himself – his reasons for going to Olivia's apartment instead of his own. It made the most sense, considering his things were still there, not to mention the fact that Olivia would need him to pick up some items for her as well. To his knowledge, he was the only one with a spare key who had access, the only person Olivia would trust enough to enter her residence when she could not do so on her own.

For the time being, however, Elliot had no intentions of going anywhere. Short of being asked to leave by a medical professional for the purpose of maintaining Olivia's privacy so an examination or treatment could be performed, he was staying put exactly where he was. His own basic needs – thirst, hunger, even sleep – were irrelevant. In some dark corner of his mind, Elliot had a thought that if frequent FBI consultant and department psychiatrist George Huang were to see him now, in the most basic of terms, he'd find himself diagnosed with a case of tunnel vision. Not that he would argue with his colleague. With the exception of when his attention had to be focused on navigating through city traffic to drive them to the hospital, the only thing that had mattered from the moment he had crossed the threshold of the bathroom door in his partner's apartment that morning had been Olivia. Elliot hadn't been able to see or hear anything else. Belatedly, he vaguely recalled a phone call and brief visit from his captain, and a cup of coffee that had been quickly forgotten. He might not have ingested much of the caffeinated liquid, but the remnants of the bitter brew still lingered on his tongue.

The acrid taste left behind in Elliot's mouth did nothing to dispel the nausea that coursed through him. Perhaps it was because the adrenaline that had kept him functioning for so long had finally run its course, but he was extremely grateful for the chair that kept him stationary at Olivia's bedside. If left to his own devices, Elliot was convinced that his legs would not support his weight, and the last thing he wanted was to detract attention away from his partner for any reason.

The sound of footsteps coming closer startled Elliot from his reverie, and he turned his head toward the hallway. A nurse – the same one who had introduced herself earlier, but whose name Elliot could not be bothered to remember – was coming into Olivia's room carrying a small case in one hand. Whatever needed to be done didn't seem like anything that would require him to have to leave, but nonetheless Elliot found himself holding his breath, hoping he wasn't about to be banished – even if he'd leave without argument to ensure his partner's modesty remained intact.

"Excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt. I just need to check Detective Benson's blood sugar, and then give her some medication. You are more than welcome to stay with her."

Allowing himself to relax – albeit only slightly – Elliot watched carefully as the nurse opened the case and set up what she would need. A sterile lancet was inserted into a plunger-like device, then temporarily set aside while a testing strip was placed into the monitor that would eventually deliver Olivia's blood glucose reading. Not wanting Olivia to be in any more discomfort than she already was – even if he wasn't aware to what extent that may be – Elliot was unable to stop the question before it escaped his lips.

"Is that going to hurt her?"

The young woman in scrubs wasn't the least bit affronted by the query, not that Elliot would have cared if she had been. Instead, the nurse smiled and explained in a way that alleviated Elliot without making him feel belittled.

"I won't lie to you, the finger prick for a glucose check does sting a little, but only for a second. I doubt Detective Benson will be aware of the discomfort."

Elliot accepted that bit of information, easily discerning that he was not being lied to. It was the look of concern that flashed across the nurse's features upon seeing the readout that was more worrying, though.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Though he had promised himself he would remain calm, Elliot was helpless to keep the panic from edging into his voice.

"I just need to make an adjustment on the insulin dosage we've been giving her, that's all. I'll be right back once I draw up a new syringe."

The mention of the word insulin had served as the harsh reminder of yet another aspect of Olivia's current health crisis. A myriad of questions swarmed in Elliot's brain, all stumbling over themselves shouting for attention. Was this her new reality? Would she be considered an insulin dependent diabetic now, with the need for regular blood sugar checks and mealtime injections? Whatever the future looked like, Elliot was determined that he would offer Olivia whatever support she needed, even if it meant he himself would have to forgo all the sugary sweets that invaded the precinct on a daily basis. He'd gladly swear off donuts for eternity if it meant that she would be okay.

"Detective Stabler?"

Belatedly, Elliot realized that the nurse had not only returned to the room, but was addressing him. Unable to keep the look of chagrin off his face, he turned to face the young woman expectantly.

"I'm sorry, what where you saying?"

"I was just explaining that in order to administer the insulin injection, I'm going to need to lower the blankets and raise Detective Benson's gown. It's not something you need to leave for, but, I just wanted you to be prepared."

Swallowing harshly, Elliot tried to find his voice, which had suddenly deserted him. It certainly wouldn't be the first time for him to see a bit of the bare skin on Olivia's body. More than a decade of working together had given them a sense of comfort with one another, as there had been several occasions throughout the years when a quick change in the cribs had been necessary either before court or in the middle of cases that lasted for days. There had even been the time during the Bushido case when Olivia had come to his undercover house to check on him, and ended up posing as a prostitute in an effort to save his ass.

The difference between then and now, however, was on all of those prior occasions, Olivia had been able to provide her consent. She had been awake, and aware, and cognizant of the fact that his eyes would be on her body. She wasn't able to do that now. Therefore, there was no way Elliot in good conscience could violate the sacred trust of not just their partnership, but their friendship – not even for something that would provide him with just a glimpse of a sliver of her abdomen. But at the same time, he didn't have the heart to leave her, either.

"No, I'll just close my eyes for second while you give her the shot. But, is it all right if I hold her hand? I know it might seem silly, but I don't want her thinking she's alone."

"That's perfectly fine. In fact, I'm sure Detective Benson would like that.'

A few seconds later, and Elliot had been given the all clear. When he opened his eyes again, the blankets were back up around Olivia's chest where they belonged. Just before the nurse left, Elliot declined an offer of coffee for the second time since arriving on the floor of the Intensive Care Unit. He was, however, deeply appreciative that the staff here were so kind.

The sound of a phone ringing startled Elliot awake – he hadn't even been aware that he'd nodded off – and the first thought that crossed his mind was to curse himself for having fallen asleep to begin with. He was supposed to be taking care of Olivia, even if there was an entire team of doctors and nurses to do just that, and he'd already failed her within a matter of a few hours. Never mind the fact that the likely cause for his impromptu nap had been a result of the adrenaline finally wearing off. Granted, Olivia was still extremely ill, but for the time being, she was out of immediate danger. A far cry from the situation earlier that morning.

Despite having been ignored initially, Elliot's phone began to vibrate and shrill in his pocket yet once more. This time, he hurried to answer before the noise could potentially disturb the woman sleeping in the bed, although the brunette had shown no signs of having heard anything.

"Hello?"

Elliot's voice was barely above a whisper, both in deference to a slumbering Olivia and the cognizant awareness that he was, in fact, on a hospital ward. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a disturbance.

"Elliot, it's Don."

Having missed the opportunity to check the phone display before answering, Elliot was grateful that his Captain had identified himself. Between his disorientation from having just woken up and the ever present worry for Olivia that was still coursing through his veins, he'd never have recognized his superior officer's voice.

"What is it, Cap?"

The fleeting anxiety that had passed through Elliot when he'd realized who was calling evaporated almost immediately once he'd learned that Cragen was only calling to inquire if there were any updates on Olivia's condition. He should have known better, known that their Captain would not summon him away from his partner's bedside at the height of a medical emergency. Especially not when Olivia had no one else to maintain a vigil and wait with her. Vaguely, Elliot recalled an exchange from earlier that morning when Don himself had been at the hospital, and his Captain informing him that he would handle the leave of absence process.

As much as Elliot ached to report that Olivia had woken up, he was unable to give Cragen much in the way of news. He also couldn't bring himself to lie convincingly when asked if he'd been taking care of himself.

"I did sleep for a little bit, though that was unintentional. I haven't had anything to eat or drink since last night though, save for a few sips of coffee from earlier today. I know that I should, but I just can't. I don't think my stomach could handle it, Cap."

"I know I should insist you go to the cafeteria right now, but I can't force you. At the very least, take a break to stretch your legs and grab a bottle of water from one of the vending machines or something. And please, promise me you'll eat when you get home later."

Elliot sighed quietly. What Cragen was asking of him wasn't complicated by any means, but it felt like the most difficult thing ever. Even so, he knew that the older man was right. Though the words hadn't been said out loud, it was all but implied that Elliot would do Olivia no good at all if he were to make himself sick, too.

"The water I can do. I'll probably have to take a walk sooner than later anyway one of these times when the nurses come in to check on Liv."

"Okay. Fin and John have asked about her, obviously they are very worried. They wanted to know when it would be a good time to come and visit."

Once again, Elliot was left fumbling for a concrete answer to give. It was something he probably should have asked, but the thought just hadn't crossed his mind. He had just been so immensely grateful to have been granted access to sit by Olivia's bedside, that it never occurred to him that the rest of their friends would want to see her, too.

"I'm not really sure, and I haven't exactly asked. I'm guessing they likely want to limit Olivia's visitors for the time being, considering she is still in Intensive Care, but I don't know for certain."

"That's fine, we can always wait a few days until she is feeling better."

A few minutes later, Elliot ended the call with his boss. He'd just put his phone back in his pocket when a nurse came into the room, this time wearing a gauzy yellow gown over her scrubs and a surgical mask covering her nose and mouth. Elliot recognized the additional layers as protective gear meant to be worn as a method of preventing infection. He and Olivia had even had to don it themselves on a few occasions over the years when checking on certain victims at the hospital. Instantly alarmed at this new development, Elliot tried to resist the urge to panic until the woman was able to explain what was going on.

"We've been looking at Detective Benson's blood test results again, and as we have yet to find a direct cause for whatever led to her vital signs crashing the way that they did earlier today, the doctors have determined it's best to exercise all necessary precautions until other possibilities can be ruled out."

"What does that mean?"

Elliot didn't want to even consider the idea that something else could be going wrong with Olivia's health. The whole situation was already frightening enough. But the more he listened to what the nurse had to say, the more it seemed that all the doctors were trying to do was find the underlying cause as to what had brought Olivia to the hospital in the first place. That was something Elliot would support wholeheartedly.

"Am I going to have to leave?"

As the words left his mouth, Elliot heard his voice crack, as though he were on the verge of tears. Though he wasn't about to admit it to this stranger, he actually was on the verge of crying. The last thing he wanted right now was to be forced from Olivia's side. He'd made her a promise, and he'd fight like hell to be able to keep it.

"No, but we are going to ask you to gown up and wear a mask while you stay in the room with her. We'll keep a box of each outside her room, so you can put a fresh one on each time you enter."

"I can do that, I'll do whatever it takes."

As much as he didn't want to, what Elliot did need to do then was step away from Olivia for a few minutes. For one thing, the nurse needed some time alone with her patient, and he wanted to grant his partner her privacy. For another, it had been several hours now since he'd used a bathroom, and the pressure in Elliot's bladder had reached beyond the point of discomfort. Plus, he'd recently promised Cragen that he would at least get something to drink, even if he couldn't eat.

With a gentle squeeze of Olivia's hand, Elliot murmured softly to the woman on the bed that he would be back as soon as he could before forcing himself to leave the room.

Elliot made his way down the hallway, getting only as far as the men's room before the emotions overwhelmed him yet again. Eternally grateful that he was alone inside the private restroom and had already locked the door, he allowed himself the luxury of falling apart for a few precious minutes. After he'd shed some tears, Elliot splashed some water on his face, too weary to even berate himself for having lost control with his the battle over his emotions.

A few minutes later, Elliot found himself in the relative comfort of the visitors lounge, nursing a cup of coffee. This time around, he'd been unable to refuse the offer by the nurses, who had all but insisted he help himself to the pot of caffeinated brew that was always available at their station. Someone had also pressed an apple into his palm, insisting that he eat something, even it were as simple as a piece of fruit. Although he'd wanted to argue, Elliot had been unable to refute the logic – that he'd do Olivia no good at all if he were to end up in the ER himself should he faint from not taking care of his own needs.

By the time Elliot finished eating the apple, it had served to calm a sensation in his stomach that he only now recognized as hunger. Despite this, Elliot still couldn't justify consuming an entire meal, at least not until he was back at home, but it did make him acknowledge that those reminding him about taking care of himself had been right.

Now though, all that mattered was getting back to Olivia's side, for the few precious hours that remained until he'd be forced to leave.

Back in Olivia's room, Elliot had donned the protective gear. He'd been able to talk to the nurse for a few minutes more while in the hallway, and found out that one of the things they were in the process of ruling out in the lab downstairs was if Olivia had somehow contracted the flu. The strain of influenza that was going around this winter was a particularly harsh one, but even so, still didn't seem the likely culprit to have caused all of the body's systems to crash simultaneously like this. Even so, the doctors were being diligent in trying to pursue what had made Olivia ill in the first place, in addition to treating the symptoms that had brought her here.

As he settled in the chair by his partner's bedside, Elliot took note of a new machine situated at the foot of the bed. Much like the mask that was positioned over Olivia's nose and mouth, whatever was now beneath the blankets also emitted a soft hissing sound. The noise wasn't disruptive or distracting, if anything, there was a soothing quality to it. Belatedly, Elliot remembered Doctor Beresford having mentioned to him earlier in the day that Olivia would eventually be set up with a machine on her legs that would help reduce the risk of blood clots, and determined that must be what this most recent addition was.

Aside from the ambient noise inside the room and out, the surroundings were mostly quiet. Even though there was one available, Elliot hesitated to turn the television in the room on, as he wanted Olivia to have the most uninterrupted sleep she could possibly have. As much as he longed to hear his partner's voice right now, Elliot knew that Olivia's need for rest was more important than his own wants. He thought that maybe tomorrow he could bring a newspaper or even a book with him to the hospital and read to Olivia to help pass the time. For today, he was content just to sit and keep her company.

Movement from the bed caught Elliot's attention, and instantly alert, his gaze traveled to Olivia's face. Blue eyes met brown, and while the same confusion and bleariness from earlier was still evident in her expression, it was obvious that the brunette was much more coherent than she had been during her few moments of consciousness earlier that day.

"I'm sorry."

Olivia's voice was still weak given her condition, and combined with the mask positioned over her mouth and nose her words were muffled, but Elliot had heard her loud and clear. It broke his heart to know that the first thing she had spoken to him since earlier that morning had been an apology. But then, that was Olivia – always viewing herself as an inconvenience to others, and if she were aware enough now to realize she was in the hospital, it made sense that she was blaming herself. Placing his hand on Olivia's forehead, much like he had when he'd checked her for fever the time he'd visited her apartment when she'd been ill with the flu the year before, Elliot tried his best to soothe his partner.

"No, Liv. It's not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for."

Olivia closed her eyes as she nodded, a lone tear escaping from the corner of her eye and trailing its way down the side of her face before escaping into her hair. Now, Elliot was even more convinced that his heart would break, because Olivia rarely cried. Once again, he found himself wishing he could trade places with his partner – that he would be the one in the hospital bed instead of her, even if that was a selfish wish on his part considering the fact he had five children who depended on him. That, and if Olivia knew exactly what he was thinking right now, she'd tell him that the last thing she wanted would be to trade.

"Hospital?"

Even though it had been phrased in the form of a question, it was apparent to Elliot that Olivia's one word query was more a confirmation of fact than anything else. No doubt she'd put together the pieces on her own from her surroundings alone as to where she was, even if that still left her with a million and one questions as to what had happened from the time they had entered the emergency room together that morning.

"Yeah, Liv. I promise, I'll explain everything as soon as I can, okay? I just want to let your nurse know that you're awake."

Elliot took Olivia's weak nod as not only permission, but that she understood what he had said. Not wanting to leave the room, he pressed the call button on the side of the bed, and within seconds, a nurse had appeared at the doorway. It took only a few moments longer for the young woman to garb herself in the required mask and gown, and soon she was by Olivia's bedside, a ready smile for her patient.

"Good afternoon, Detective Benson. I'm sure you must have a lot of questions, but first things first. Why don't we see if we can get that mask off you for a bit, and try you on something a bit simpler? The doctors seem to think that your vitals have stabilized enough to switch you over to having your oxygen administered by nasal cannula."

Again, Olivia nodded, lifting her neck ever so slightly to assist the nurse in the removal of the straps from behind her head. Unable to resist, she raised her hand to rub it over her face as best she could once the mask had been pulled away. It wasn't that her nose was exceptionally itchy, but just the newfound sense of freedom from the claustrophobia she'd felt upon waking was refreshing.

Olivia lay patiently as a nasal cannula was inserted gently into her nostrils, then waited as the nurse tucked the remainder of the tubing behind her ears to hold it in place. It was then that something else occurred to her, and with a hoarse voice, she croaked out her request.

"Water?"

One look at the nurse, and Olivia knew her thirst wouldn't be quenched any time soon. Apology was etched into the young woman's features, and whatever was wrong with her, she apparently wouldn't be allowed to drink.

"I'm sorry, the doctors don't want you to eat or drink anything, beyond what you are getting through the IV. What I can do, if you like, is bring in a small cup of water and a couple of sponges so you can swab out your mouth? I'm sure it's terribly dry, and it might help a little."

Olivia gnawed on her lower lip, unsure of how to answer the question. The offer did sound wonderful, but how on earth would she be able to manage something like that when she barely had the strength to move as it was? Scratching her nose a few minutes ago had practically taken all of her energy. It wasn't as if the nurses had time to see to her needs like that, and she certainly couldn't ask Elliot – could she? Her eyes flicked over to her partner, trying go gauge what he was thinking, but it appeared the man was already one step ahead.

"That would be great, thank you. I'll help Olivia with whatever she needs."

"Okay, I'll be right back."

The nurse left the room, leaving the two partners on their own and able to talk for the first time since early that morning. Even though she was still extremely ill, Olivia tried to argue.

"Elliot -"

"Liv, please, just let me help you, okay?"

Too weak to put up much of a fight, Olivia nodded her agreement. She'd closed her eyes briefly to get her bearings when the sound of footsteps coming closer made her open them again. The nurse was back with the promised items, and rather than wait for the young woman to gown up a second time, Elliot met her at the door to receive them. Placing a few of the spare swabs on Olivia's bedside tray, he tore one open then dipped it into the cup of cool water.

"Ready, Liv?"

Olivia nodded, opening her mouth slightly. Between the dehydration she was already experiencing from not properly taking care of herself in the weeks leading up to her hospitalization, and the dry air from the mask she'd worn all day, her lips were chapped and cracked. The coolness and moisture from the sponge were so instantaneously soothing that Olivia moaned softly, an involuntary response. Once her lips had been adequately taken care of, Elliot wet the sponge for a second time and gently began to swab the inside of her mouth. It didn't do much to alleviate the thirst she was feeling, but the added moisture went a long way in making Olivia feel better. Then, as though he were reading her mind yet again, Elliot offered yet another promise.

"When I come in tomorrow, I'll bring you some chapstick."

"Thank you."

"No need to thank me, Liv."

The two sat quietly again, and as much as she wanted to stay awake and find out exactly what was going on, Olivia found herself losing the battle to sleep once more. The fear she'd felt earlier wasn't as strong this time, though, not now that she knew that Elliot was by her side. A part of her realized he may be chased away by hospital staff come the end of visiting hours, but he'd already promised to come back tomorrow, and while she had a long road ahead of her in terms of recovery, just knowing that her partner and best friend would be by her side was enough to make her feel better.

A/N: As I mentioned when I first published this, this story is deeply personal to me as it based on one of my own experiences back in 2018. This chapter continues to hold true to that, in the sense that the doctors at the hospital I was at were exhausting every possible option trying to find a cause for my sudden illness that had caused so many of my body's systems to shut down. One of them was to rule out the flu, and as a result, my parents were required to gown up when coming to visit until it could be ruled out. It was a very frightening time, some of which I still haven't totally processed, as my memories of Intensive Care itself are vague. Writing this has been very helpful.