AN: I know. I know. It's been almost a month. I'm sorry. But as we all know, when life gets busy, time for the fun stuff (like writing fic) gets pushed to the back burner. But there are several more chapters of this one to come, so I hope you all keep coming back.
Thank you for reading! I appreciate all the favorites and lovely comments that you all leave!
The call comes in at 7:12 p.m.
"Is this Elliot Stabler? It's about your daughter, Kathleen."
He doesn't hear much after that. Autopilot, dissociating, there are too many words for it. That moment when everything becomes white noise and your body goes numb, and all your attention is stuck on a single goal: Get home.
Elliot grabs his wallet and orders an Uber to the airport. Sometime between the call from the hospital staff and securing his seat on the plane he is able to call Maureen and have her rush to be at Kathleen's side, and he calls Olivia.
"Hey El, I wasn't expecting your call," she answers happily.
"It's Kathleen… Uh, she uh—accident. It's bad, I think. I'm on my way back." His jumbled thoughts come out in a rush.
"What?"
"I - I don't… Uh, shit! I need…"
"El, take a breath and talk to me. What do you need?"
"I need not to be across the damn ocean right now!" Elliot yells, then quiets down when he sees half the people seated in the waiting area around him are staring at him.
"Elliot, please breathe. I can't help you if I don't know what's going on."
He listens to Olivia, taking several deep breaths as her voice washes over him like a soothing salve, and he scrubs his hands down his face, pulling roughly on the short strands of a beard he's let grow over the last few weeks. "Kathleen, she—she was in an accident. I don't know the details. Maureen is headed to the hospital and is supposed to let me know."
"Good, that's good. Maureen will be with her. You said you are on your way back?"
"Yeah… I–I'm at the airport now," he answers as he looks around again. "I board soon."
"Do you need me to pick you up?"
"No. It will be too late. Can you… can you check on Ma? Kathleen's been staying with her, and I don't know the nurse's schedule."
"I can do that."
"Okay, thank you."
"El," she says softly. "Be safe. It will be okay."
"Yeah… Yeah." He hears his flight number being called. "Gotta go, my flight is boarding."
"See you soon, El."
Despite the upsetting and surprising nature of the visit, Bernie is beyond excited to host Olivia and Noah for the evening. A grin covers her face as she flutters around the kitchen, fixing tea and pulling out a casserole from the freezer and preparing it for the oven.
"I'm sure my Katie will be just fine. She's a tough one."
Olivia nods from her spot at the kitchen table. She can tell from Bernie's tone that she's speaking out loud to convince herself, more than anything. "Yes, she is. Kathleen is very tough. I imagine she will be fine."
"There," Bernie says, setting the timer on the oven. "Dinner should be ready in about an hour. But if you are hungry now, I'm sure I can scrounge up some snacks."
"No. No. Just sit Bernie," Olivia directs the woman to the seat next to her. "We are perfectly fine to wait until dinner is ready. Thank you for starting that."
Bernie relaxes on her seat. "Did you say that you spoke with Elliot? He is on his way?"
"Yes," Olivia answers softly. She's told Bernie about her conversation with Elliot at least three times, but she's happy to repeat it as many times as necessary to keep his mother calm. "He was at the airport when I spoke with him, getting ready to board. But with the distance, he probably won't be here until the middle of the night."
"Well then, I won't set him a place at the table," Bernie jokes with a small smile.
"That's probably best."
Bernie takes a seat next to Olivia at the table. "What is going on between you two, anyway?"
Olivia's breath catches, and her eyes widen. She's not sure what to say. She and Elliot have not actually put a label on their new status. How does she tell his mother that they've admitted that they want to be together but have a mountain of things to work through, yet despite all of that they've made out on her couch, and she would like to make out (and much more) with him again?
Noah, who apparently just entered the kitchen from the living room, answers for her. "They are dating, she thinks. Miss Bernie, do you have anything to drink?"
Bernie grins as Olivia blushes a bit. "Sure do, my boy. I have tea and juice, but I think there might be soda in the fridge that Eli left, if that's okay with your mom."
Noah looks to his mother expectantly.
"You can have a soda tonight," Olivia answers with a small nod.
Noah grins and searches the fridge for a can.
It's late when Elliot lands, but his phone lights up with message after message from Maureen. The assurances that his second oldest is alive and healing allow him to catch his breath.
She made it through surgery.
Had some internal bleeding.
They are keeping her overnight.
She has a sprained wrist and broken tibia.
Bruised ribs, too.
Thank God
I'm on my way
What room
Maureen's response comes through while he's waiting on his Uber, a green Kia Soul.
She's asleep now, they have her on the good stuff.
Go home and sleep and come up tomorrow.
She's going to be okay, Dad.
Love you.
Okay
See you in the morning
Love you too
Tell Kathleen I love her too and I'll see her soon
Quietly, he turns the key to his apartment. The flight was long, and no matter how many times he's made the trip between New York and Rome, he's never been able to sleep well. Some trips he's taken medication to help him rest, but tonight he'd gotten on the plane with only his cell phone, wallet, and passport. He purchased a sandwich, phone charger, and cheap headphones on the way to his gate and suffered the long, long flight cramped in a seat that was too small to hold his anxiety. His initial wave of adrenaline crashed about two hours in, allowing him to close his eyes and float in that space between sleep and wakefulness while music played quietly in his ears. But as the hours ticked closer, it came rushing back in, and it was all he could do to stop digging his fingers into his thighs and palm his eye sockets.
He's back now, though, and Kathleen is okay: battered and bruised, but she will be okay.
In the dim glow from the light above the kitchen sink, which is full of dirty plates and bowls, and a kitchen gadget infomercial playing on his television, he can just make out her shape. Olivia is slumped over on his couch, her head resting on her fist, smooshing her cheek. With a couple more steps he can see Noah asleep, tucked on the other half of the couch and covered with a throw blanket.
"Liv," he says quietly, placing a hand on her shoulder. He doesn't want to startle her, but she can't sleep on his couch, especially in that position. Her back and neck will ache for days.
"Hmmmm," she hums in her sleep, her eyes fluttering open. "El."
"It's late. Come on," he whispers and tugs on her arm gently. "You can't sleep out here."
Slowly she rises from the couch, still half asleep and letting him pull her behind him towards his room.
"El—" she mutters sleepily as they enter his bedroom.
He knows what she's about to say, how she's going to fight him. He's too tired for that. His entire body aches from being tense and cramped on that plane and his emotions are fried. All he can think about is sleep, and he wants to sleep next to her. He needs to be next to her.
"No—just, please."
When she doesn't argue, he pulls a shirt and sweats from his dresser and hands them to her. And then heads to the door, with more clothes in his hands.
"I'll be right back. Just make yourself comfortable."
She stands until she hears the creak of a pipe and water hitting the floor of his shower. Moving slowly, still half asleep, she shucks her pants, wrinkled and uncomfortable now, and lays them over the chair in the corner. She also tugs off the blouse she had on but leaves the cami that she wore underneath. The soft fabric of his sweatshirt tempts her, but she worries that she'll get too hot and sweat in her sleep. Thinking hard for a moment, she pulls off her bra from under the cami and adds it to the chair. Finally, she pulls on the sweatpants he gave her, rolling the waist a couple of times, and waits for him on the edge of his bed.
She's ready to offer to return to the couch when he comes back in. Unless you count sleeping next to each other in a squad car or in the cribs, sharing a bed, even just for sleep, is a big step for them, and she's not sure what's going through his mind.
But the look on his face changes her mind. He looks sad, exhausted, and defeated. Olivia knows that what Elliot needs right now is comfort, and that's all she's ever wanted to provide to him.
He walks straight to her as she stands up from his bed. Just in shorts, he tugs her into his body and wraps his arms around her tightly, nuzzling his nose into her hair and neck and breathes her in, his beard scratching slightly.
Olivia can barely make out what he says, but it sounds like: "She's okay. She's okay."
"Good. Good," she answers, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, squeezing his body into hers.
He keeps talking into her neck. "Gonna see her in the morning. Internal bleeding, broken bones, bruised ribs… I just…"
"She's okay," Olivia echoes back to him, rubbing her hands softly up and down his broad back. His skin is warm under her hands from his shower, and there are a few drops of water still resting in the middle of his back, as if he dried off too quickly and missed them. She rubs them into his skin. "Sleep first, then you can go see her."
She can feel him nodding against her, but he doesn't let go. She lets him hold her, standing there, swaying slightly on his feet.
"Come on, El. Sleep," she says again, soothingly.
His chest heaves against hers before he pulls away. "Thank you for coming."
"Always."
He nods, swallowing softly as he looks down to her, his eyes flitting to her lips and then back to hers.
"Sleep," she says again, her hand on his chest patting him gently.
Another nod and then he finally steps away from her. He pulls the blankets down on the far side of the bed and slips in. Quietly, she copies his moves, resting on her own back next to him. He turns on his side and reaches for her, kissing her sweetly on her lips before finally resting his head on the pillow, his knees brushing her thighs and his arm over her waist.
Tomorrow, she thinks, she can let her mind question everything that is happening between them tonight. But right now, she turns on her side and lets him curl himself around her completely, his chest to her back and his knee slipped between hers, and allows the steady beat of his heart to lull her to sleep.
The buzz of her phone wakes her. After Elliot's call yesterday, she told Fin he was in charge and marched out of the precinct without any further explanation. She knows Fin can handle the squad, and when her phone stops buzzing and doesn't start again, she expects he was just calling to offer her an update and he will just leave a voicemail or text her.
Blindly she reaches for her phone where it should be charging on her nightstand, but her hand falls short. That's when she realizes that her sheets feel rough, and the bed is heavy with the weight of another person.
Opening her eyes, Olivia sees Elliot laying next to her. He's flat on his back, one arm lying over his body and the other folded above his head and resting on his pillow. The sheet is rucked around his hips, revealing his upper body.
She hadn't had a chance to really look at him last night. He came in from his shower so fatigued, she accepted his hug and then made him crawl under the covers.
Now, though, in the soft morning light creeping through the curtains, she can see him. He's fit, solid and well-muscled. Dark hair grows across his chest and more thickly on his belly. When the light hits just right, she can see gray sprinkled throughout.
On his face she can see the new growth of a thick, more salt than pepper, beard on his jaw, and a thinning two- or three-day growth around the sides of his head. The look reminds her of his time as Eddie Ashes. Not that she'd ever admit it, but she did like the way he looked when he was undercover—tough, daring, tempting even. She doesn't want to give much thought to it, but she hadn't faulted Flutura for taking a turn with him when she had the chance.
Now, though, the lines on his face look softer, less intense as he sleeps. His pink lips, slightly chapped, are parted as quiet snores pass through them.
She could look at him all morning, inspecting him up close, but she hears glasses clinking and two soft voices coming from the kitchen. Realizing that Noah must be up already, she leaves the warmth of the bed.
Before exiting Elliot's room, she reaches for the sweatshirt he handed her last night and pulls it on over her cami, and then she takes a quick look in the mirror, hopeful that she looks decent enough to see her son and Elliot's mother.
In her periphery she sees two photo frames on the dresser: one with a photo of Elliot and Kathy, and another with the two of them surrounded by their children. She also notices the small bowl with his wedding ring and watch. Her heart squeezes in her chest. It hurts to see these things. The reminders of his marriage and life before without her. Knowing that Elliot was married for nearly 40 years and seeing the evidence of it just feet from where they shared a bed are completely different. She can't erase his past, and she doesn't want to. But she is going to have to figure out how to navigate their future with his past and hers.
"Coffee's in the pot, dear," Bernie greets Olivia as she steps into the kitchen. If the woman is smug or assuming, she doesn't give it away.
Olivia nods and reaches for a mug resting on the counter next to the coffee maker.
Noah watches his mother as he eats another powered mini-donut, then asks through a mouthful, "Is Elliot back?"
"Swallow, then talk," she gently admonishes Noah's bad manners. He nods and chugs the orange juice next to his small plate of donuts. "Yes. Elliot got in very early this morning. I think it was around three."
"And Kathleen?" Bernie asks, looking concernedly over her shoulder as she chops something on a cutting board.
Surprised that it seems that no one updated the family matriarch overnight or early this morning, Olivia answers with as much as she knows. "I didn't get all the details, but she is okay. Elliot said that she had internal bleeding and has a broken bone or two and bruised ribs. He's going to go see her this morning. He should know more then."
"Okay. Good. Good." Bernie nods and walks to the refrigerator, pulling out a carton of eggs and what looks to be some sort of cheese.
Noah, seeing his mom's curious eye, fills her in. "We're making omelets."
"Omelets, huh?"
Bernie shrugs as she starts to break eggs over a bowl. "We have eggs and cheese and ham. What else do you make?"
"Omelets are perfect, Bernie. How can I help?"
"You can't. Just sit there," Bernie says, nodding to the empty seat next to Noah. "Or better yet, go wake Elliot."
Elliot's groggy voice cuts in. "He's awake."
Olivia sees him stepping into the kitchen in his shorts and a t-shirt, one hand rubbing over his head, then palming his eye. She's lucky that she had a chance to look at him earlier or the sight might have completely knocked her over. Still, she sips her coffee to hide her grin and stop her from saying something. Even with a shirt on, she can see how his muscles ripple when his hands stretch the last bit of sleep from his body overhead.
Elliot's voice is deep and gravelly as he says, "Mornin'," before leaning down and kissing Olivia's cheek.
"Gross," Noah groans through another donut, powder falling from his lips, when he sees Elliot lean in.
Olivia cheeks pinken, but it's Elliot that speaks up with a gravelly, "Hush you," directed at Noah, who's already turned his focus back to his plate. It might be a remnant from his prior life, not worrying about kids in the room seeing his displays of affection, but Olivia's thankful that she doesn't have to respond.
It's not lost on her how domestic this morning is. It reminds her of the dinner they had a couple of months ago. But this time, instead of being unsteady and awkward, it feels right somehow. As if there could be many more mornings just like this in her future. The thought frightens her at first, but she doesn't let that fear overwhelm her. She is going to let herself enjoy these moments and continue to work on herself so she can enjoy more in the future. She wants more of these mornings, and she's going to have to face her anxiety to make sure she gets them.
Elliot pours himself a mug of coffee and looks at the omelet that Bernie's cooking on the stove. "I wanna get to the hospital soon."
"You'll eat first," Bernie tells him.
"I shoulda went last night."
"It was too late, El," Olivia speaks up. "She needed sleep. You needed sleep. And now you need to eat."
Elliot's eyes narrow as he looks from his mother to Olivia, Noah chuckling in his periphery. He doesn't like the fact that two women are telling him what to do, but he doesn't argue. He takes a seat at the table next to Olivia, waiting for his mama to drop an omelet on his plate. Olivia covers his hand with hers.
"She's going to be fine."
"Knock, knock," Elliot vocalizes as he steps into Kathleen's room, pulling Kathleen's attention from the small television mounted on the far wall. "There she is."
The distinct smell of the hospital is almost too much for him. Disinfectant and cleaner and something else that he can never place burns his nose. He, of course, is familiar with the smell from his own short stays after being roughed up by a perp or a gunshot. But more recently, the smell was accompanied by fear and grief.
"Dad! You didn't need to fly home," Kathleen calls from her bed as Elliot walks across the room.
"Of course, I did, honey." He smiles as he leans in and kisses her on the forehead. "The kid gets banged up; the parent comes to visit. That's the rule. No exception."
"Gawd, I'm so sorry." She tries to cover her face but the IV in her hand pulls and she flinches. "The jackass came out of nowhere."
"Shhhh. Stop it, Kathleen. I know. I know." Elliot covers her hand with his gently before reaching up to wipe away a tear. "I'm just glad you are alive. That's all I care about."
"I'm fine… I'm going to be fine," Kathleen corrects at her dad's look.
"Yes, you are," Elliot confirms. "I'll talk to your doctor, but I think you're probably going to be here for a few more days before you can go home. And I'll work with the nurse for Mama to have her come over more for you, too."
"I don't need that."
"Kathleen," he says, pulling out his well-practiced dad tone. "You have a broken leg and sprained wrist. You are going to need some help getting around for a while."
"Ugh," she huffs. "Tell me something good. I can't deal with more bad news. How's Olivia?"
Elliot scoffs a small laugh at Kathleen's quick turn of the conversations. "They must have given you the good stuff."
"I'm serious, Dad. If I'm stuck with daytime soap operas for the next few weeks, I need to get the real scoop."
"There's no scoop. I've only been back for a few hours."
"And yet Olivia was at the house overnight," Kathleen counters.
"How do you know that?"
"I'll never reveal my sources."
Elliot laughs again and takes a seat in the chair next to Kathleen's bed. "Her and Noah stayed with your grandma last night until I got back."
"Are you going to get your date on this visit?"
"You don't hold back, do you?" he asks, no real annoyance in his voice.
"Never."
"I don't know, Kathleen," he answers honestly. He has no idea what Olivia will feel comfortable with. They've crossed some boundaries and made some promises over the phone. But he knows that everything's changed now that he's back in person, especially so unexpectedly. "My first priority was to get back and see you."
"You should ask her. I'm still so sad that you didn't get to go out last time."
Elliot smiles and pats Kathleen's uninjured arm softly. "It all worked out last time. And right now, I'm here for you."
"I'm stuck here for the next couple of days. You said so yourself."
"God, I forgot how insistent you can be."
Kathleen gives her dad a broad smile. "I bet she'll make the time."
"We'll see."