A/N: Although there is a general content warning for this entire story, adding an additional TW for this chapter for a brief discussion mentioning suicidality.
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.
For the first time in as long as she could remember, Olivia roused to the smell of coffee. While the aroma didn't belong to any brew she recognized, there was a sense of comfort in the familiarity of it all. So much so, that a part of her expected to be back in her Manhattan apartment, waiting for the alarm to sound at any minute. It was only when she reached out her hand in the direction of where her nightstand should be and came into contact with a knee that she startled into full alertness.
Panicked now, she sat fully upright, and it took her several moments to register not only her surroundings, but the presence of Elliot in the chair beside her bed. An overwhelming wave of disappointment surged through her then, as reality settled into her weary bones. She was still in the hospital. The visions she'd conjured in her mind of being back home again had only been in dream format, and instead this more sobering existence remained her truth.
"Liv? Are you with me?"
Elliot's voice was hesitant as he leaned over to set his steaming cup of cafeteria procured coffee on the floor for the time being. He wasn't sure what the exact cause of Olivia's trigger was, and he didn't want to make any sudden movements.
"Yeah. Just not happy to be where I am."
Even though clarification wasn't necessary, Olivia still felt the need to elaborate.
"I could smell your coffee as I came to. In my half-sleep, half-awake state, I thought I was back at home."
No matter how benign it had been, Elliot felt bad for his part in contributing to Olivia's unease. What he would not do, however, was make any promises. He'd love to be able to tell her that he would get her a cup of coffee, but he just wasn't sure what her restrictions regarding caffeine currently were. Thankfully, he was temporarily saved from that particular conversation when an aide came into the room. It was time for the morning vitals.
The young man tending to her looked familiar enough, but Olivia could not quite place him. While he was preoccupied with taking her pulse, she stole a glance at his ID badge, and mentally registered his name – Bryan. This was the same person whom April had mentioned the day before.
"Did you need to use the restroom, Sergeant?"
"Yes, please."
After Olivia's affirmative response, Bryan took things one step further. Things were quiet on the floor that morning, several of his other patients had been discharged. That left him more time to devote to the few remaining charges in his care.
"I know it won't exactly be the same as a shower, but would you like me to bring you some fresh towels so you can get cleaned up a bit? We also have these special shower caps with built in no rinse shampoo. It's not perfect, but they are better than nothing."
At first, Olivia was going to decline, but the more she thought about it, she did want to change into clean clothes and wash up some. It wouldn't be a shower, but anything beat the sensation of having her skin feel like it was crawling.
"I would like that, thank you."
Before leaving to retrieve the aforementioned items, Bryan first disconnected the IV. Pulling a roll of tape from his pocket, he secured the tubing so that it wouldn't get in the way while Olivia washed up. When Elliot made the offer to walk with her to the bathroom, Bryan checked to make sure that his patient was agreeable to the suggestion, and at her nod, hurried out of the room to retrieve the towels she had requested.
The first thing Elliot did was grab Olivia's bag from the closet. He brought it over to the bed so she could select something else to wear. Then, not wanting to insult her pride, he offered his palms so she could use them to lever herself up using her own strength. Once she was standing, she gathered up her clothes in one arm. Elliot on the other hand, switched tactics and extended an elbow so that she could loop her free arm through it. As they walked the few steps toward the bathroom, the first thing Elliot noticed was that Olivia's gait was much more steady than it had been the day before. All of the fluids they had been pushing into her system had certainly made a difference.
"You good, Liv?"
"Did you seriously just hint that I might need help in the bathroom, Stabler?"
Elliot felt his cheeks flush. The words certainly hadn't come out as he'd intended, but he was immensely relieved that Olivia hadn't taken offense. If anything, she'd even been able to tease him as she once had – another positive sign that the woman he knew hadn't given up the fight. He'd welcome any emergence of the old familiar fire, even if it came at his own expense. Fortunately, he was saved from having to come up with a reply when Bryan returned, passing off towels, a rinse-free body wash, and a warmed up shampoo cap so Olivia could get clean.
"I'll give you your space, Liv."
With a smile of gratitude, Olivia closed the door between them. Elliot sighed in relief when he did not hear the tell-tale sign of the lock engaging. Not that he would ever invade on her privacy, but he didn't want Olivia to feel like she had to lock herself away ever again. Crossing the few steps back to where he'd been sitting not long ago, he bent over to retrieve his cup from the floor. Draining the remainder of his now cold coffee, he pitched the empty container in the trash can, then sank into the chair. Breakfast would be here soon, and another day in the hospital had officially begun for Olivia.
Twenty minutes later, Olivia had emerged from the confines of the bathroom, looking and feeling refreshed. The sponge bath hadn't been perfect, but it was better than nothing at all. She had opted to dress in a pair of leggings and another long sleeved tunic length shirt. In lieu of the hospital issue no-skid slippers that they kept giving her to put on, she had instead chosen to wear a pair of fluffy socks to keep her feet warm. However, in deference to the concerns of her having a fall, she did continue to wear her slip on shoes when walking to and from the bathroom.
Now, for the first time since her arrival, Olivia was truly taking in the layout of her hospital room. It appeared it had once been a more traditional two bed suite, but now was a private chamber designed for one individual only. Every effort had been taken to make both patient and guest as comfortable as possible. In addition to the love seat that was positioned by the windowsill, there was a small table and chairs, too. This could be used by either visitors reluctant to leave their family member alone, or by the patient themselves should they tire of being in bed all the time and want to take in their meal in a more comfortable setting.
This morning, that is precisely what she would be doing. Having no desire to crawl back into the bed that had held her a veritable prisoner for the past few days and nights, Olivia longed for freedom, in any capacity that she could gain it. Even if it were something as small as having her first meal of the day while seated at a table like a normal human being, then that is what she would do. Granted, the thought of her impending breakfast was still a daunting concept, but her trust in Elliot was enough to assuage her fears. Whatever he had chosen from the menu for her, it would not be anything that would cause intimidation.
The last thing Olivia was expecting at this early hour, however, was a visit from Dr. Barnes. It appeared the psychiatrist had his own schedule to keep today, and she was on his list. Mentally reminding herself that she had indeed promised to be more cooperative, Olivia pushed the reluctance from her mind and instead perched on the love seat next to Elliot. Grabbing hold of the hand of the man sitting beside her, she wordlessly made her wishes known. She would be open to conversation, but she was not going to face this doctor without an ally in the room.
"Good morning, Sergeant. I'm sorry to disturb you before you've eaten this morning, but I'm making my rounds a little earlier than usual today."
Unsure what to say to that, Olivia just shrugged in a non committal way. She supposed she didn't have any real issue with Dr. Barnes, other than the fact that it took him forever to get to the point of whatever it was he was trying to say. At least, that's how it seemed to her. Then again, she was finally willing to admit that both her patience and perception of time were likely skewed as her mind and body continued to process its recent traumas.
Overall, the short visit with Dr. Barnes hadn't been a bad one. Mainly, he had wanted to discuss Olivia's continuation of care. Not at the point yet that he wanted to overwhelm his patient, he had merely suggested that she consider if her sessions with Dr. Lindstrom were truly beneficial to her. If, for whatever reason, she weren't one hundred percent comfortable with her current provider, they would find someone else for her to talk to – not just here in Cape May, but back in the city if and when she chose to return.
Despite the fact that it hadn't been his intention at all, Olivia had indeed been overwhelmed by everything that had been mentioned. She was at the point now that she was only processing things one situation at a time, and felt as though so much had been thrown at her all at once for her to consider. Yes, it was true she didn't trust Dr. Lindstrom completely, but with all the other upheaval she was dealing with in her life, the thought of changing to someone completely new and detailing her story all over again was unfathomable. Looking to Elliot for help, Olivia wordlessly asked him to intervene on her behalf. Normally, she would never even imagine asking him to step in like this, but she was beyond her depth, and didn't want to slide down the slippery slope into despair again.
"Thank you for giving us these options to consider, Doctor. I think Olivia obviously needs some time to think about things first before making any decisions. Perhaps if you were to come back tomorrow or the day after, she'll have a better idea of which direction to proceed in?"
Without argument, the psychiatrist nodded his agreement to those terms. He understood perfectly how difficult it could be for a patient to choose someone they trusted with such intimate details of their lives. It hadn't been his intention to make Olivia feel rushed in her decision, and he apologized if that was how she had perceived it.
The other thing Dr. Barnes wanted to mention was that Rene Wilson would be dropping in again to see Olivia later in the day. The dietitian wanted to touch base, and perhaps work up some makeshift meal plans for not only the rest of Olivia's hospital stay, but her eventual discharge as well. Though annoyed, Olivia took the news remarkably well. Perhaps it was Elliot's supportive arm around her shoulders that helped soften the blow. Dr. Barnes was about to leave the room when Olivia suddenly remembered something she had been wanting to ask. She called to him just as he had reached the door.
"Wait, I almost forgot! Am I allowed to drink coffee?"
Retracing his steps, Dr. Barnes moved back so he was standing in front of Elliot and Olivia yet again. His eyes were kind as he regarded the question.
"Given your heightened anxiety levels, I do think it's best you avoid caffeine as much as possible. However, one cup of coffee – so long as it's consumed early on in the day – would not be harmful. Anything after that, I would stick to other options."
Olivia relaxed then, her face showing one of the first genuine signs of relief since her admission. The only other time Elliot had seen that expression on her visage had been when she'd been given permission to shower after her failed escape attempt. In unison, they both thanked the doctor, and watched as he was successful this time in his attempt to leave.
Not long after Dr. Barnes had left the room, Elliot got a text from Don. It appeared that the older of the two men was on his way into the hospital, and wanted to know if either he or Olivia needed anything. Knowing he didn't want to leave Olivia on her own for any longer than necessary, Elliot put in a request for some breakfast, plus coffee for both himself and Olivia. Her tray should be here shortly, and like the day before, it was nothing that couldn't wait a few minutes should there be some overlap in the time between the meal delivery and Don's arrival.
A short while later, Don showed up, carrying a paper bag in one hand and a tray bearing three cups in the other. He greeted the duo sitting on the love seat warmly, and it was clear from his expression that he was pleased to see Olivia out of bed this morning. Setting the items he had brought down on the nearby table, he went to her, confident for the first time in days that she would willingly accept his embrace. Even so, he kept the hug brief, not wanting to inundate her still somewhat fragile psyche with more than she could handle.
Eventually, Olivia took her seat at the table, purposely selecting a chair that would put her back to the window so her IV pump could be plugged into a nearby outlet. Her orientation also served a two fold purpose, as this also meant from her current position, she would be unable to see Elliot portioning and plating her meal. It was too soon for her to witness that just yet. Having the two men eat their own breakfast with her wouldn't be an issue, as hers was a personal battle, and watching other people consume food had never bothered her. It was only in regard to her own nutrition that she struggled.
While they were waiting for Elliot to bring over Olivia's plate, Don passed the woman something he instinctively knew she had been anticipating – her coffee. Having been procured at a shop less than a block away from the hospital, it was still piping hot, and already prepared to her desired preferences. Olivia held the cup in both palms, relishing the warmth that resonated from the sturdy cardboard. Bringing it closer to her face, she inhaled the vapors deeply, sighing contentedly as the aroma of java reached her olfactory senses.
Knowing this would be her sole indulgence in caffeine for the day, Olivia was determined to savor every last drop. Granted, while she had been on the job, her prior predilection for consuming the energy sustaining beverage had been to gulp it down as quickly as possible - never knowing how long the chance to enjoy it hot would be – in her present status, she had all the time in the world to linger as long as she liked. Truth be told, it didn't even matter how soon she was released from the hospital, her life wasn't going to change all that much. For as far as the eye could see, her future remained in stasis, dependent wholly upon her healing. It was still too much to comprehend.
"Liv?"
Olivia was pulled from her thoughts back to the present when Elliot called her name. She placed the cup in her hands back on the table's surface and leaned back in her seat to make room for him to bring over her breakfast. To her surprise, it wasn't a plate that was placed in front of her, but instead one of the clear plastic cups she typically drank her smoothies from. It's contents were only half full, but from what she could see, Olivia deduced that Elliot had somehow managed to create a fruit, yogurt, and granola parfait for her this morning – scaled down to the perfect portion.
"This looks delicious, Elliot. Thank you."
"You're welcome. I also ordered you some miniature blueberry muffins, but there is no pressure to eat them now. They are sealed in their own package, so you can always save them for a snack later."
Olivia nodded absently at hearing that information, neither expressing her outright refusal nor her immediate consent to consume the pastries at another time. Instead, she was focused on dipping her spoon into the concoction before her, knowing she had to try and eat as much as possible. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it occurred to her that no one had come to ask about a preference of smoothie, but she wasn't about to be the one to remind them. The way she saw it, cooperating in her treatment was one thing, but there was also a time when she could be too helpful, and she wasn't at that point just yet.
While Olivia may have been willing to let the issue of the smoothie go unnoticed, Elliot on the other hand, was not. Despite all his efforts not to upset his former partner by hovering over her as she ate, he still had yet to sit down and and focus on his own meal. It was true that she was on an upward swing in regard to her consumption of nutrients, but he didn't want to get his hopes up too high just yet. Olivia was still ingesting so little that the supplemental drinks the hospital had been giving her were essential to her physical recovery.
For the sake of all in that room, it was fortunate that a knock interrupted them at that very moment. Otherwise, a conflict may have broken out soon after when Elliot was about to suggest calling in the nurse to question about the status of Olivia's missing smoothie. Every pair of eyes turned to the door, but only Olivia recognized the woman standing at the threshold. It was her dietitian, Rene Wilson.
"I'm sorry to intrude while you are eating, Olivia. I just wanted to notify you of a change I implemented into your diet plan as of this morning."
Olivia nodded, indicating that Rene should continue with her explanation.
"I know you are still struggling with your food intake, but managing in small amounts. That's why I decided I would rather see you having several tiny meals per day, instead of trying to force yourself to consume three larger ones."
Unsure whether to feel relieved or bombarded by that information, Olivia was unable to speak. All she could decipher was that meant she didn't have to drink a smoothie right now – but one would be impending in the near future. Elliot on the other hand, wasn't one to let his curiosity go unanswered. Speaking up on Olivia's behalf, he asked the question that was on both his and Don's minds.
"What does that mean exactly?"
Rene regarded the question seriously, but it was Olivia to whom she directed her response.
"It means, that we want you to try and have an intake of some form of nourishment at least six times per day – your three scheduled meals, followed by supplemental smoothies at mid-morning, mid-afternoon, and around bedtime. Of course, if you feel hunger at any point outside of those hours, just tell your nurse or your aide, and something will be provided."
Stunned, all Olivia could do was nod. Rene understood the source of her patient's overwhelm, and simply said she'd give her time to absorb the information. This brief check-in wasn't her official scheduled visit, and she would be back later in the day to talk with her more thoroughly. Nodding at the two men also seated at the table, Rene excused herself from the room, and left.
Still in a state of shock, Olivia tried to refocus on her breakfast, but all of her concentration had left her. They wanted her to eat six times a day? It took all of her energy to manage three. It occurred to her again to just refuse to eat on principle alone, but unaware of her own actions, she continued to dip her spoon into the yogurt parfait, mechanically eating one mouthful at a time. Elliot and Don just sat and observed with concern, wisely remaining silent.
Olivia had been so distracted by the dietitian's visit, that she had completely forgotten about her coffee. Thus, the beverage she had been looking forward to savoring had grown tepid and undrinkable by the time she had finished with her parfait. Disappointed and overemotional as a result of the events of the past several days, Olivia was humiliated when actual tears began to form as a result of realizing that she would not be getting to have caffeine today after all. There was no way she would dare ask Elliot or Don to buy her another cup, not after she had so carelessly wasted the first.
This was one of the many times that Olivia wished she were free from the tethers of the IV pump that held her bound, and kept her reliant on hospital staff for her trips to and from the bathroom. As tearful as she was in that moment, Elliot was sure to notice, and she wanted nothing more than to seek whatever respite she could, even if just for a few minutes. As difficult as it would prove to be, she made a promise to herself to sip on water as much as possible. The sooner she was released from the continuous flow of fluids into her veins, the better.
Thankfully, neither Elliot nor Don mentioned Olivia's current state. If anything, the latter seemed to intuit her distress and wanted to make every effort to soothe her unease. Pushing his chair away from the table, Don stood and began to gather the trash left over from his and Elliot's meals.
"If you'll excuse me for a minute, I'm just going to go and throw this away. I also noticed on my way in this morning that there is a coffee shop on the first floor. I don't know about you Elliot, but I could go for another cup. Olivia, what do you say I replace yours as well?
Again, Olivia's eyes grew damp as she once again acknowledged to herself just how much these men cared for her. Guilt tried swoop in and overtake the other emotions battling her system for control, but despair and shame were still the most prevalent. Beneath all of that was the one thought she would never speak of, too afraid to breathe the words into life. That was the notion that her survival had been a mistake, a fluke, and not something that was supposed to be. It was the only evidence she could find to explain why everything after the granary felt so surreal. She hadn't truly lived since that day, only existed. This trip to Cape May was supposed to have helped her find her way back to herself, but so far, she was more lost than ever.
Unable to find the words to voice her request, Olivia merely nodded her consent to another cup of coffee. She was too lost in her own mind to communicate clearly at the moment. That was when Elliot also gave her a reprieve and announced he, too, was stepping out for a few minutes. This would be her first time being truly alone in the room since her failed escape attempt, and Olivia didn't know whether to feel relieved or anxious. She supposed it was a combination of the two, each with their own attributes.
On her own at last, Olivia relished in the silence – not that Elliot had been a particularly noisy companion these past two days – or even when they had shared the cottage. There were just some things she didn't feel comfortable thinking in his presence, let alone putting voice to when he was around. It had nothing to do with lack of trust, as it seemed that remained inherent between them, despite his prior absence in her life. But there were some burdens she was determined to weather on her own, and simply could not ask him to shoulder any share of the load.
The ringing of her cell phone brought her back to the present, and Olivia startled at the sudden noise. At first, she couldn't even remember having turned the device back on after her displeasure at her admittance to the hospital, but then she recalled her late night phone call to Elliot in which she had pleaded for rescue. Pushing those memories away, she hurried to answer, especially when she noticed that the caller was Owen, her current neighbor and newfound confidante.
"Hello."
"Olivia. Is this a bad time? I can always call back later."
"No, you're fine. I'm actually alone in the room right now. Elliot and Don have stepped out, so it's a perfect time for me to talk."
The conversation continued, and Olivia could scarcely believe it as she found herself relating the details of her failed escape from the hospital. Owen listened intently, but wisely kept silent and didn't reveal his part in her plans having been discovered. Instead, he empathized with her, stating that had he had use of all of his limbs at the time of his own hospitalization, escape would have been appealing to him as well. Eventually, the topic shifted, and Owen reached the original purpose of his call.
"I don't want to pressure you, Olivia, but would you feel up to a visit today? It's my day off, and I thought maybe I would come in and see you. Maybe keep you company while you have lunch?"
"I'd like that, actually. That way, maybe I can convince Elliot to leave for a bit, take some time to himself. He hasn't left this place in two days. Do me a favor, though? Please, bring some lunch along for yourself. I don't like to eat alone."
Not needing to hear any further reasons beyond that simple request, Owen immediately agreed. Already familiar with the hospital's schedule, he promised he would be there by the time the early afternoon trays were delivered. Just prior to disconnecting, he inquired if there was anything Olivia needed him to bring from the cottage. She declined the offer, but truly appreciated the gesture.
Olivia had just set her phone back down when Bryan stepped into the room. At first, she was confused by his presence, but then she realized he was only there to bring her a fresh pitcher of water. She took advantage of the opportunity, though, and asked if he would assist her in disconnecting the IV from it's pump so she could use the bathroom. The aide had no problem whatsoever complying with Olivia's request, and minutes later, she was settled once more, this time in a more comfortable chair than before. While it wasn't upholstered, it was technically a recliner, and allowed her to elevate her legs. Plus, as Olivia reasoned, anything was better than being in that bed.
When Don and Elliot returned to the room, they found Olivia sitting comfortably, mindlessly flipping through the channels on the television trying to settle on something. Both men quietly observed how, for the first time since she'd been brought to the hospital by ambulance, Olivia seemed more animated than she had in days. That theory was proven further when her eyes lit up at the smell of coffee, and she turned in their direction, a smile on her face.
"I hope one of those is for me, like you promised."
Handing over one of the two cups he held, Don gave his once favorite detective – now dear friend - a warm grin.
"It is. I've known you for sixteen years, Olivia. I would never lie to you about coffee."
As she had done earlier, Olivia clasped the cup in both hands, enjoying its warmth. Bringing it close to her face, she sniffed dramatically, savoring the aroma of the freshly brewed java before taking a tentative sip. She was not going to delay any longer, and miss for a second time the opportunity to enjoy one of her favorite vices. Tea may be her go-to for comfort – especially recently - but coffee would always be her first love. Not only had it sustained her on the job all this time, but it had seen her through her college years and the academy, as well as her teens when she'd stay awake late into the night wondering just what condition her mother would arrive home in.
Olivia shook her head, knowing this was not the time to get swept up in tumultuous memories of her past. She had to focus on the present, and that in itself was complicated enough to deal with. Then there was the upcoming conversation she needed to have with Elliot where she would have to convince him to leave. It wasn't something she was particularly looking forward to.
Sipping more of her coffee, Olivia pulled her knees up against her chest, resting her soles against the outstretched leg rest of the recliner she was sitting in. Whether she was instinctively trying to make herself smaller in an attempt to avoid any confrontation she anticipated to occur as a result of her next words, she wasn't certain. What was definite was that Elliot was as equally stubborn as she was, and would likely misinterpret her intentions in asking him to take a break.
"Don, Elliot? Can I talk to you about something?"
Almost immediately, both men diverted their attentions to the woman who had posed the question. It was the first time she had truly initiated a conversation, so they knew whatever she had to say, it was going to be important. Not wanting to interrupt her train of thought, they both nodded their consent for her to continue, and waited.
Though she hadn't been pressured in any way, Olivia was suddenly swept up in a wave of anxiety. Licking her lips, she fiddled with her now empty cup as a way of having something to do with her hands. The distraction ultimately proved useful, and gave her the necessary outlet to concentrate on the words she most wanted to speak aloud.
"Please, I don't want either of you to take this the wrong way, but after lunch is delivered and you've set it up for me, I think you should both leave – at least for a few hours."
Despite all of his promises to himself that he wouldn't engage in any forms of confrontation, Elliot found himself ready to argue with Olivia. He was completely flabbergasted, wondering where this sudden change of heart had come from. Granted, they weren't completely back to their old dynamic as of yet, but they had been getting along much better since he'd come to the hospital the night she had called him. He'd thought for certain he had earned his way back into her circle of trust. Now, with this request, he was back out at sea once more.
"Liv, what's going on? Did I do or say something to upset you? If so, tell me how I can make it right!"
Don on the other hand, while just as startled by Olivia's request as Elliot had been, seemed less likely to panic. He was still concerned, but willing to listen to reason. Resting a hand on Elliot's shoulder, he tried to impart his patience to the other man.
"Let her talk, Elliot."
Feeling less pressure after Don's reassurance, Olivia was confident to continue.
"Don't get me wrong, Elliot. I want you to come back. But, you've been here for nearly two whole days. I know you haven't been sleeping properly, you need to take some time for yourself. Plus, I didn't want to say anything, but it wouldn't hurt you to take a shower, either. Just because I'm not allowed to take one doesn't mean you have to go without."
Olivia bit her lip to hide her teasing grin, but couldn't stop it entirely from breaking free. The fact that she was still able to tease him after everything she'd been through did Elliot's heart good, and was just what he'd needed to give his hesitancy the final push that it would be all right to leave her for a few hours. He was further convinced when she revealed that Owen would be coming to spend some time with her, so knowing she wouldn't be completely alone was an additional relief. Elliot was pulled back to the present when Olivia tacked on an addendum to her request.
"One more thing. I want you – both of you – to leave the motel and go and stay at the cottage. It's senseless for you to be shelling out money when there is a perfectly sensible place for you to be staying. It's your home to begin with Don, don't let me kick you out of it."
It was Don who managed to respond first.
"Olivia, like I've told you, that cottage is your home now – for as long as you need it. But, if us staying there is what you really want, then that is what we'll do."
Finally, Elliot was able to find his voice.
"Are you sure, Liv?"
"I'm sure. I want you to move back to the cottage, get a shower, and get some real sleep for a change. Also, before you come back, try and go to a meeting. I know you've been missing them, and I know it's because of me. Please don't neglect your recovery on my behalf Elliot."
Trying to ignore that this was the second time in less than ten minutes that Olivia had mentioned his need for a shower, and unsure if he should laugh or be insulted, Elliot could only nod. But there was one important detail he had to set her straight on.
"I have been keeping up with my meetings, Liv, just not local ones. I've found virtual ones online that I can attend from my phone or computer, and I check in either after you've gone to sleep or before you wake up."
Knowing he wouldn't lie to her about something like that, Olivia visibly relaxed. Things had gone even better than she had hoped. The trio soon shifted their attention as Elliot pulled out the paper that had been included on the breakfast tray, and he began to fill out the menu selections for Olivia's meals the following day. For the first time since she had arrived at the hospital, she was willing to give her input. While she couldn't look at the form itself, she was able to have Elliot give her a choice between two options, and pick the one she preferred most. At this stage, every step forward counted.
As the day stretched on toward lunchtime, Olivia had successfully managed to consume nearly half of her mid-morning smoothie. That made it the greatest amount she'd been able to take in since the dietitian had first suggested them. The only downside now was, it left her stomach feeling full, and the prospect of lunch once again had overstimulated her mind more than it could handle. Olivia longed for a simpler time when meeting her basic needs wasn't as much of a struggle, then recalled with a wistful grin all the times Elliot had stopped at her old apartment only to admonish her for the lack of food in her refrigerator. Perhaps things hadn't changed that much after all.
True to his word, Owen arrived just before the lunch trays were scheduled to be delivered. He was welcomed by Don and Elliot, and shook both of their hands. If he was surprised to see Olivia out of bed, he didn't acknowledge it, and instead greeted her warmly.
"Olivia, it's good to see you."
Olivia smiled in return, as she tried to stifle the apology that threatened to break free. Logically, she knew no one would fault her for remaining seated, but she couldn't help the feeling of guilt that consumed her. Though she was grateful for the company, it was awkward having people visit her in this setting, and she strangely felt as though she were on display, although she knew none of the men in this room viewed her in that light. If anything, it was the complete opposite – they had all gone a step above and beyond to ensure her comfort. Even Owen, someone she had known for a time period a little more than a week. But as much as Olivia typically played things close to the vest, she didn't find it necessary when dealing with the veteran. If anything, she was looking forward to spending the next few hours in the company of the slightly younger man, if only so it would help her get to know him better.
Though it wasn't a major concern, Olivia briefly feared that her room wouldn't provide enough places for everyone to sit. She needn't have worried, because with the inclusion of the love seat, the chairs at the table, and the chair she was currently curled up in, there was plenty of space for all of her visitors. She wasn't sure exactly why she had been obsessing over such a trivial detail, but her mind appeared to be spinning in circles beyond her control. It was only when the telltale rattle of the food cart in the hallway reached her ears that Olivia finally realized the source of her unease. It was lunchtime.
After running interference and collecting the tray, Elliot rushed to set it up. On any other day, he wouldn't be in as much of a hurry, but today he had selected something hot for Olivia's midday meal. Owen took advantage of the opportunity to temporarily excuse himself so he could go and purchase his own lunch from the cafeteria, not having wanted to bring any food from the outside that might serve as either a temptation or an obstacle. Now that he knew for certain that Olivia wasn't facing any dietary restrictions other than the limits set forth by her own psyche, he was more confident in his choices.
"Did you want to stay where you are, Olivia, or would you feel more comfortable sitting at the table, like you did at breakfast?"
Though Elliot's query would seem simple under any other circumstances, to Olivia, it was everything. At a time when her autonomy felt like it was being questioned at every turn, to have anyone ask her opinion on something – no matter how trivial – meant the world to her. Then again, Elliot had always been her champion in that regard. Even before he'd learned what had transpired during the recent months of her life, from the moment he'd first arrived on the doorstep of the cottage, he'd been able to intuit her needs. It was she who had been shutting him out, too afraid she was preserving the often confused feelings of the past combined with her fears of impacting his sobriety in the present to fully let him in. On top of all that, there was the continued denial toward her own situation still existed at the forefront of her mind, making her unwilling to accept her current situation. Burying that emotion deep within for the time being, Olivia focused on answering Elliot.
"I think I'd like to sit at the table."
"You got it."
It was Don who came over to help Olivia unplug her IV pump and prepare to move the necessary short distance. Instead of heading in the direction of the table, though, Olivia began to cross the room toward the bathroom. Not wanting to insult the woman's attempt at independence, but concerned for her well being, the retired Captain approached the delicate subject cautiously.
"Olivia..."
In truth, she hadn't taken offense at the gentle and as yet unspoken admonishment. If anything, she had been expecting it, although perhaps not from the current source. It was from Elliot whom she had anticipated the concern would emanate, and while not entirely misdirected, it was still somewhat annoying. However, as Olivia understood that the reason for her frustrations were not placed at either of the men, but rather on her own limitations, she tried to explain.
"I know I'm supposed to ask for help, but I've waited too long as it is, and I really need to go. I promise I'll be super careful, and if I run into any problems, I'll pull the cord on the wall to call for a nurse, okay?"
Instead of disagreeing with her entirely, as Olivia had expected, Don offered a compromise – he would walk with her to the door of the bathroom, but only so he could help navigate the IV pump. This would allow her to concentrate on her own footing. Nodding her consent, Olivia fell into step beside him as they made their way across the room.
A few minutes later, the pair were traversing the same journey, only this time in reverse, as Don escorted Olivia to the table. Once she had taken the same seat as she'd been in at breakfast, Elliot brought her lunch over. Much like yesterday, the use of the tray was necessary, not because of the volume of food, but because of the content of it.
Studying the items in front of her, Olivia bit her lip – not out of trepidation, but because she was trying to keep her smile from breaking free. Why she was hiding it, she did not know. The meal in front of her was one consisting of pure comfort food, and she already felt the sensations of being warmed from the inside out.
Sitting on her tray was half a grilled cheese sandwich side by side with a small portion of cream of tomato soup. The combo was accompanied by some apple slices, and what looked to be a section of a soft baked chocolate chip cookie. Ever since he had taken over control of her menu choices, not once had Elliot failed to include dessert for her. Even at a time when she struggled so much with food, it was the one bright spot of her meals that she always looked forward to. Today was proving to be no exception.
Despite Olivia's insistence that it was fine for them to head out, Elliot and Don waited until Owen returned. With a promise that he would be back before dinner was served, Elliot chanced an attempt at showing Olivia some gesture of affection and comfort. Since he was unable to hug her properly given her current seated position, he instead wrapped one arm around her shoulders and squeezed gently. At the same time, he brushed his lips against the crown of her head, keeping the contact brief. Then, he shouldered his bag, and followed Don out of the room.
Now that he was alone with Olivia, it was Owen's primary focus not to inundate her with questions. He'd already intuited her anxieties, and didn't want to contribute to them further. So, when she picked up the toasty triangle containing melted cheese and dipped it into her soup before taking a tentative bite, he opened the clam shell container that held his grilled chicken salad. Owen had just finished drizzling on the included packet of ranch dressing and was using his fork to coat all the lettuce and other ingredients when he looked up to find Olivia watching him intently.
"Is everything okay, Olivia? The smell of my lunch isn't bothering you, is it?"
"No, nothing like that. I just didn't realize they had grilled chicken salads here. Do you know if they offer them to patients, or are they strictly a cafeteria-only purchase?"
In truth, Owen didn't know the answer to her question, but he had no doubt that if a grilled chicken salad were something Olivia truly wanted, Elliot would go to the ends of the earth to obtain it for her. Given her recent struggles with food, even the dietitian and the nurses would ensure that her request would be honored. While he didn't want to speak out of turn, he made every effort to ensure the woman sitting across from him that all she needed to do was ask for something, and her care team would see that it was possible.
"Olivia, if there is something that you want, no matter what hour of day it is, just tell your nurse. Meals may have set times, but there are no rules that have to be followed."
Wisely shutting up after imparting that bit of information, Owen began to eat. In the same vein, Olivia turned her attention to her own lunch, as her soup was rapidly cooling, and she wanted to eat as much as she could while it was still hot. A part of her felt bad for keeping quiet, but her mind was busy trying to piece together what she had just learned.
The pair ate in a comfortable silence, with Olivia trying to enjoy the taste of her food and not think too much about the actual act of eating it. The end result was a somewhat successful one, as she ended up consuming nearly everything that Elliot had provided for her on the tray, save for a couple spoonfuls of soup that still remained in the bottom of the bowl. Olivia tried to focus on that one accomplishment, and not think about anything else – certainly not the smoothie that she would have to drink in two hours time, nor the dinner tray that awaited her once Elliot returned. Instead, she tried to be proud of herself for having crossed this hurdle. The others could wait.
As though he knew Olivia were trying to process something monumental, Owen wisely had kept quiet up until now. It was only when they had finished with their meals and he was clearing away their empty plates that he spoke up for the first time.
"I'm going to take your tray out to the cart in the hall, Olivia. I'll be right back. If you'd like, we can pass some time playing a few games. I noticed the deck of cards on your bedside table."
"That sounds good. I will admit, my concentration isn't the greatest right now, so I can't handle anything too complicated, but I wouldn't mind something simple. I could use the distraction."
Reaching over to grab the cards, Owen easily slid them out of their box and began shuffling. If he had any opinions whatsoever based on Olivia's admission, his expression gave nothing away. Instead, he offered up a suggestion that she easily accepted. Less than a minute later, he was dealing them each a hand and spreading the remaining cards in the middle of the table, preparing for a rousing game of 'Go Fish'.
As the game progressed, Olivia felt herself relax more. Admittedly, she didn't know Owen that well yet, but after he had shared his story with her the other day, she felt a sense of kinship with him. Granted, the ordeals they had each lived through were worlds apart, but there was something unique that connected them. Because of this, she felt like she could be more open with him in a way she couldn't yet with Elliot. It had nothing to do with lack of trust in her former partner, but rather a deep-seated fear of not wanting to add to the guilt she knew he already carried.
After several consecutive losing hands, Owen conceded defeat, and jokingly pleaded with Olivia that she take mercy on him. The request garnered a laugh from the brunette, who finally felt enough at ease to broach the thoughts that had been plaguing her mind. There was no casual segue into this particular topic of discussion, no delicate way to shift the conversation. But from what Olivia had learned of Owen thus far, he was not one who offended easily, and she knew she shouldn't hesitate to speak freely.
With a sharp inhale, Olivia expanded her lungs with as much oxygen as they could possibly contain. She held her breath for the span of several seconds, then closed her eyes, allowing all the air to come rushing out in one fluid exhale – and with it, the words she had been holding onto for days, too afraid to voice aloud.
"I wasn't trying to kill myself. At least, I don't think I was."
Owen had been so wholly unprepared for Olivia's impromptu confession, that he didn't know how to respond at first. As it was, he had been struggling to recover since she'd uttered the words. He'd never believed she had knowingly intended to cause herself harm, but it was Olivia's own self doubt that pulled at his heart. How long had she been holding on to this? He strongly suspected it had been since her arrival at the hospital days earlier. While he didn't consider himself someone who would ever break a confidence, Owen set a mental reminder to talk with Elliot – not necessarily to share this shocking revelation, but to have the other man speak candidly to Olivia about the true nature of her admission.
Afraid that it would make her close herself off again, Owen decided to tread very lightly were Olivia was concerned. In truth, he didn't expect her to open up to him completely, not when he was still practically a stranger to her. But his own experiences – both what he'd endured personally as well as what he dealt with professionally as a peer counselor – had given him the necessary tools to guide the conversation in a way that would hopefully not induce any panic. First things first, he needed to clarify the situation.
"Olivia, what makes you say that? Did someone tell you that is why you are here in the hospital?"
"No, but I know that is what everyone is thinking. I mean, I've been signed in against my own wishes, that has to be the reason, right? The only thing I can't figure out is why I'm not on a locked ward by now."
Again, Owen was torn. Up until this point, he wasn't sure what all Olivia had known in regard to her admission, but know he was certain that she still remained mostly in the dark. He didn't fault Elliot or Don, though. From what he had learned, the past few days had been difficult for her, and it was only yesterday that she had truly turned the corner and begun to fully cooperate with her own care. He doubted that she'd have been able to handle such a heavy discussion before now.
"That is something you need to talk about with Elliot, Olivia. It's not my place to say."
Frustrated, but not angry, Olivia swiped her palm down her face.
"Of course. I'm sorry, I never intended to put you in the middle. I know I should talk with Elliot, I just don't know if I can. As crazy as it sounds, you're the only one I feel I can talk to."
Though his intentions were good, Owen inadvertently said the worst possible thing with his next comment.
"What about your doctors? Can you talk to them? It's not healthy to hold on to this."
Olivia didn't exactly shout her response, not for lack of wanting to, but more because she didn't need the extra drama a scene would bring. Even in deference to trying to avoid unwanted attention, her voice still rose a few decibels.
"Which doctor would you suggest I speak to? The psychiatrist back in Manhattan whom I'm convinced is working for IAB, trying to keep me from returning to a job I love? Or maybe, I should I talk to the doctor here, who wanted to go along with the nurse's idea to sedate me after knowing me for all of five minutes!"
Owen tried to cut in and apologize, but Olivia held up her palm, silencing him before he could utter another word.
"That leaves only a few other options – Don, Fin, or Elliot. Two of whom are recovering alcoholics, and if they knew the full truth about what I've been through, would likely blame themselves and seek comfort in the bottom of a bottle. I would rather live with the memories of that monster inside my head for the rest of my life than subject any one of them to that horror."
Again, Owen tried to interject, but Olivia would not be deterred.
"So here I am, in a prison cell disguised as a hospital room, pouring my guts out to a man who up until a little over a week ago was a complete stranger. I don't do that. I barely open up to the people I know. Fuck, what the hell is wrong me?"
Emotionally spent after her outburst, Olivia buried her face in her palms, to ashamed at this point to even make eye contact with the man sitting across from her. She was filled with a sense of self loathing so great it was nearly all consuming. How could she have allowed herself to be so openly raw and vulnerable? Thank goodness none of the staff had been around to witness her lapse, as her ultimate goal was to get the hell out of here, and not lengthen her stay even longer.
"Olivia, please, try not to worry about that. I promise you, whatever you've said here will not leave this room. As for the rest of it, there's nothing wrong with you. Your mind and body are simply trying to process what has happened. It takes time."
Olivia laughed, but there was no humor behind it. If anything, Owen detected a hint of bitterness.
"I've been a cop for over twenty years, and in Special Victims for fourteen of them. I know how the process works. Hell, this isn't even my first time at experiencing trauma from this side of the mirror, as it were. Granted, nothing has ever been as bad as this, but I've always thought I would be strong enough to handle anything."
"Strength isn't necessarily something that can be seen with the naked eye. It isn't always tangible or physical. Sometimes it lies in the little things, the simplest accomplishments."
Owen's words resonated deeply, and Olivia heard every last one. She hadn't expected the man to get so philosophical, and despite her every effort to resist, she found herself lowering her hands from her face and meeting his gaze to listen intently. With a subtle nod, she indicated for him to continue.
"You survived. You're here, and he's not. That speaks volumes about the strength you possess. I know it won't make your journey to healing any easier, but it does demonstrate a lot about your character. You made it through the most unimaginable hell in your life – twice. You will survive the recovery, too."
Unable to think of much to say to that, plus feeling both physically and emotionally exhausted after everything that had taken place, Olivia could only manage to nod. When Owen suggested she move to a more comfortable spot, she didn't hesitate to agree, and allowed him to assist her back into the reclining chair. Once her feet were elevated, Olivia allowed her body to relax, and concentrated on her breathing. Finally, she was able to form the two simple words that best conveyed her feelings in that moment.
"Thank you."
No sooner had the sincere expression of gratitude left her lips, than Olivia gave in to the fatigue. She closed her eyes, dozing off into a fitful sleep. With careful movements, Owen made sure the blanket he had given her when she'd first gotten situated properly covered her, then made himself comfortable on the love seat. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he kept himself distracted while he kept watch, fulfilling his promise to himself – and the others – that he would stay with Olivia until they returned.
Olivia was still sleeping two hours later when Elliot sent a text to Owen informing that he was on his way back to the hospital. She had missed her mid afternoon smoothie, but Owen had persuaded the nurse to give her a reprieve. Thankfully, his reasoning had worked, though he did feel a brief wave of guilt at inadvertently depriving Olivia of some much needed nutrition. But she had looked so peaceful, he just hadn't had the heart to disturb her. Even now, with Elliot's impending arrival only minutes away, he couldn't bring himself to wake her. From his own personal experience, he knew all too well what it was like to be tormented by the horrors of the past. Any slumber that Olivia could achieve that was uninterrupted by nightmares was a good thing.
"Hi Liv, I'm back. I -"
Elliot's entrance was cut off by a sharp look from Owen and he immediately stopped himself from talking. At first, he had been confused, but once he directed his gaze toward Olivia and saw that she was resting, he understood implicitly the reason the other man had quieted him so abruptly. It didn't take him long to intuit that whatever had happened in his absence had taken an emotional toll on Olivia, and that was why she was sleeping so soundly at this hour of the day. Instead, he turned his attention to Owen, trying to keep his concern from taking over and sounding like an accusation.
"She okay?"
"It's not my place to say anything specific, as I don't want to betray a confidence, but she had a rough go of things while you were gone. All I'll say is this – you need to tell her the truth about why she's in the hospital, there is some definite confusion there."
Elliot inwardly grimaced as guilt took over. In truth, he'd been intending to have that conversation with Olivia for awhile now, but she just never seemed strong enough, and the last thing he'd wanted to do was cause another setback. But Owen was right, she did deserve to know the truth. He hated to think of all the assumptions her mind had given her, and the potentially dark places they might have led.
"I'll talk to her. Thanks for keeping her company. Did you want to stay until she wakes up?"
"No, I don't want to overwhelm her. Plus, I promised Stacy I'd stop at the store on my way home, it's my turn to cook dinner tonight. Tell Olivia I'll call her in a day or two – if I don't see her back at the cottage before then, that is."
Elliot nodded his agreement and shook Owen's hand. He watched as the man gathered up his things and left as quietly as possible, so as not to disturb Olivia. When he was alone in the room with his sleeping former partner, Elliot placed his bags on the floor by the love seat, and made himself comfortable. He'd only been sitting for about ten minutes when the woman in the recliner stirred, groaning softly as her muscles protested having been in the same position for so long.
Elliot observed as Olivia opened her eyes and eventually registered his presence. His pleasure at seeing her awake quickly turned to apprehension as her smile faded and the expression on her face shifted to one that could only be interpreted as anger. There was no doubt about it – she was pissed.
"What the hell, Elliot? I told you to leave for awhile and take care of yourself! It's not as if you didn't leave me with a babysitter, or even an around the clock guard! Can't you trust me on my own for even a few hours?"
Trying not to take offense at the way she was shouting him - even though her words had wounded him deeply – Elliot hurried to explain.
"Liv, I did everything, just as you asked. When I got back here ten minutes ago, you were sleeping. Owen said you nodded off about an hour after lunch. Dinner trays are scheduled to arrive in about thirty minutes."
Fumbling for her phone, Olivia looked at the clock on the display in disbelief. She wasn't sure why she was so surprised, in all the years she'd known Elliot, he'd never once lied to her. She supposed it was just the sheer sensation of disorientation, the lost time, that she was experiencing. Though it wasn't anything drastic, only four hours – she'd sat through classic movies that spanned that length of time – it still felt strange.
While she didn't necessarily regret the unintentional nap, Olivia most definitely was second guessing her choice of sleeping positions – not to mention having decided against crawling back into the bed. The focal point of her hospital room may not be the most comfortable mattress she'd ever slept on in her life, but it sure as hell beat dozing sitting upright. At this rate, she would be lucky if she'd ever rest again until she got back to the cottage, her neck was so cramped up. Plus, because of the IV, she didn't even have the luxury of taking a hot shower to soothe her aching muscles.
Without realizing it, Olivia had voiced her complaints aloud by way of a soft moan. Having always been attentive to even her most subtle reactions, Elliot picked up on this nuance in her demeanor that he knew indicated pain. He was by her side in an instant, and after seeking out permission to touch her, gently rubbed his palm against Olivia's nape, rubbing away a particularly bothersome ache. Olivia bowed her head, giving him more access to continue his ministrations, her lips parting to exhale a whisper of a sigh.
Had it been anyone other than Elliot, Olivia knew she wouldn't have felt comfortable having someone else's hands on her body – even in a gesture as benign as this. As soothing as the touch was to her tender muscles, she still couldn't bring herself to fully relax. Her heart was skipping beats in her chest, and she had to fight the urge to push Elliot's hand away and make a run for it, to lock herself away someplace where she could see any enemies advancing from all sides.
It broke Olivia's heart as she realized an impossible truth – Lewis had stolen something else from her. No matter how much she tried to convince herself, her trust in Elliot was not the same as it once had been. It had nothing to do with the fact that he'd left, but more on the monster who still had her questioning everything about herself. The times that Olivia had cursed William Lewis were now well beyond infinite amounts, and she longed for the safety of Elliot's arms to wrap around her. Too ashamed to ask, and feeling undeserving of the comfort, Olivia shied away from his touch completely, denying herself the solace of his embrace.
The instant he felt Olivia pulling away, Elliot removed his hand from the back of her neck. He made no other effort to touch her, too afraid that he'd already taken things a step too far and inadvertently triggered unwelcome memories. He just hated to see Olivia in pain for any reason and had wanted to help. At first, it had seemed like she wasn't objecting to his touch, but something had changed. Elliot tried not to take the shift personally, but he'd be lying to himself if he were to say it hadn't stung at all. Still, his many years of experience had taught him that Olivia's reactions weren't out character for someone who had survived the magnitude of trauma she had endured.
Not wanting to let on that he was aware of what had happened, and trying to keep as casual as possible, Elliot rose from his crouched position. As he did so, his knees made an audible cracking noise as they protested the movement. Upon hearing the sound, Olivia's mood shifted yet again, and she bit her lip in an effort to keep from laughing aloud. In this instance at least, Elliot could read her mind as easily as he had always been able to, and knew she was fighting the urge to call him out on his creaky joints. Eager to give Olivia anything that would offer a temporary reprieve from the thoughts inside her own head – even if it were at his own expense – he prompted her to speak freely.
"Go on, say it. I know you want to."
Olivia's shoulders were shaking, not from holding back tears, but from the mirth she could barely contain.
"How old are you again?"
As far as insults went, it was fairly tame. Olivia had certainly busted his balls much more thoroughly over the course of their years together, but it was understandable to see why she wasn't at the top of her game right now. The fact that she was even comfortable teasing him at all spoke volumes about the level of trust she still placed in him.
The lighter atmosphere had been a fleeting one, as Olivia's mood shifted yet again. She was about to say something else to Elliot but kept quiet as a nurse came into the room. To the great surprise of both occupants, the woman in scrubs flushed out Olivia's IV line with a syringe filed with saline, then promptly disconnected the tubing from the main pump. After securing the excess to Olivia's arm with a section of tape, she offered an explanation.
"Your doctor is quite pleased with your increased fluid intake, and has decided that you no longer need to be attached to the pump at all times. We will still connect you to a continuous drip overnight for tonight at least, but this will grant you a little more freedom of movement."
Trying to process what she had just been told, Olivia asked a question, still somewhat in shock at what had just happened.
"Does this mean I can go for a walk in the halls after dinner if I want?"
"Of course."
With those parting words, the nurse excused herself from the room, leaving Elliot and Olivia alone once more. That was when Olivia took advantage of the opportunity to persuade Elliot to give her a few minutes to herself.
"Elliot, why don't you run to the cafeteria and grab something for your dinner? Unless of course, you've already eaten? That way, when my tray gets here, we can have our meal together."
"No, I haven't eaten yet, Liv. I'll try not to take too long. Is there anything I can grab you from the cafeteria while I'm there?"
Olivia shook her head in response, then breathed a sigh of relief when Elliot made his temporary exit. Now that she was alone, she could maybe try and process what the nurse had said only minutes before. She was going to be allowed to get up and walk – for a distance greater than just crossing the room to use the bathroom. Granted, such limited exercise wouldn't ease her nerves the way running did, and she longed to get back out to having her feet pounding the pavement once more. But even Olivia had to concede that her recent efforts in that department may have been a bit excessive. Not so say she couldn't ever run again, but she'd have to build her endurance up gradually to get back to the point she was at previously.
Pushing those thoughts from her mind, Olivia managed to bring herself to a standing position, then once she was sure of her footing, made her way to the bathroom. Grabbing a spare towel and washcloth left over from that morning from where they sat on a chair on her way, she closed the door as she closed herself off in the small adjoining room. Her goal was to take advantage of the few remaining moments of privacy and freshen herself up a little, and hopefully wash away the remnants of sleep and fatigue that still clung to her person.
Elliot's return coincided perfectly with the arrival of the food tray, much to Olivia's relief. When she'd heard the rumbling of the meal cart in the hall and he had yet to reappear in the room, her nerves had been on edge. While she'd made great strides the past couple of days as far as eating was concerned, she wasn't yet ready to tackle dinner on her own. It was humiliating to admit – even just to herself, but now that she'd recognized the truth about her issues, Olivia knew she couldn't ignore them any longer. Confronting them openly however, was another matter entirely.
Elliot set his Styrofoam containers and bottle of water on the table, then turned to collect Olivia's tray. Carrying it over to the windowsill, he quickly separated some of it onto one of the smaller plates. He smiled to himself when he realized that they would be eating the exact same thing – an intentional decision on his part. Though he didn't want to rush Olivia's recovery in any way, in the back of his mind, he was counting down the days until they would be together again at the cottage.
Bringing the plate over, Elliot took his own seat at the table across from Olivia. A smile graced her lips when she noticed what he had chosen for them – chicken tenders, macaroni and cheese, a tossed salad, apple slices, and a brownie for dessert. Her attention was drawn back to the man sitting with her though, when she heard him call her name.
"Liv, I need to talk to you about something. It's kind of a serious conversation, so I don't know if you want to have it during dinner, or if you'd prefer to wait until we're done."
To her surprise, Olivia wasn't filled with any additional anxiety upon hearing Elliot's words. She knew that no matter what it was he wanted to discuss with her, it would not be anything that would intentionally cause her stress. Still, she knew she had to pick and choose her battles, and right now, that meant focusing on her nourishment.
"As much as I'd love to have a distraction, I don't think that is quite what I had in mind. Let's just wait until we're finished before delving into anything too heavy."
Nodding with complete understanding, Elliot turned around to grab the bedside control that operated the television in Olivia's room. Flipping through the channels, he eventually settled on something that he knew without question they would both enjoy having on in the background.
Forty five minutes later, they were finished eating – or that is to say, Olivia had finally taken her last bites. Elliot had emptied the contents of his container long before that, even though he'd purposely tried to eat more slowly in deference to Olivia's newer dining habits. Though he didn't say anything out loud, it pleased him greatly to see that she had consumed everything he had given her – an amount totaling two chicken tenders, half a cup of macaroni and cheese, a small portion of salad, four apple wedges, and a quarter of a brownie. In keeping with her additional promise to drink more fluids, she'd also had an entire bottle of water.
Once everything from their dinner was cleaned up, Olivia settled herself on the love seat. She would have opted for the reclining chair again, but something told her whatever Elliot wanted to talk to her about was important, and she wanted to be able to have the freedom of movement the additional space would provide.
When Elliot returned to the room after he'd taken Olivia's tray back to the hall and disposed of his trash, he took a seat beside her, then pivoted at the waist so they were face to face. Tentatively, he took her hand in his, wanting to maintain some sort of connection, yet afraid his touch would not only be unwelcome, but might trigger unpleasant memories. Keeping his hold light enough that Olivia could pull free anytime she chose, Elliot cleared his throat and tried to find the words with which to begin.
"Liv, the last thing I'd ever want to do is upset you, but I think there are a few misunderstandings about your being here in the hospital that need to be explained. I've waited too long to do so as it is, and if you've been confused for any reason because of that, I am so very sorry."
Though well intentioned, Elliot's preliminary speech only served to make Olivia feel even more at sea in regard to what he was trying to say. She managed a shaky smile and a half hearted laugh, but when it came down to it, had to admit she had no clue what he was talking about.
"What are you trying to say? Just spit it out, Stabler."
Olivia's use of his surname didn't bother Elliot in the slightest. He'd been able to decipher the affection in her tone, and it had taken him back to the many times they'd addressed one another in that seemingly standoffish manner in the heat of the moment. Where some might have observed it as confrontational, their strategy had always been something entirely different – to keep one another at arms length, maintain the finely drawn line in the sand, stop things from getting too intimate. It was both a professional and personal defense mechanism.
Now though, they didn't have the job between them. The only buffer or blockade that remained were his disappearance and subsequent three year absence, plus Olivia's traumatic experiences and ongoing recovery. While some aspects of their reunion had been seamless, when it came to communication regarding their innermost feelings, that was an area where they had always struggled. But Elliot knew that now more than ever, he had to try. Olivia deserved his honesty.
"Liv, I want to be able to tell you something without making you feel any guilt in the process. You have done nothing wrong, but I can't continue in this conversation without starting with what happened on the morning Owen and I found you at the cottage."
Olivia ran her free hand through her hair, trying not to let her frustration show. She was more confused than ever, and she was helpless when her impatience took over. If she were thinking more clearly in the moment, she would have recognized that it was her subconscious trying to instinctively protect her, but all she knew was that her sarcasm was out in full force.
"Continue the conversation? You haven't even started it. Stop treating me like I'm going to break, Elliot, and tell me what you are trying to say."
At first, Elliot was taken aback by Olivia's bold statement, but then realized he shouldn't have been. No matter what she had been through, the heart of the woman he had always known still existed beneath it all. That included her temper, so he knew he'd better get his act together and start talking before she really got fed up with him.
"Point taken. If you remember, we had plans to meet that morning, and I was bringing you breakfast. When I pulled up to the cottage, I had the worst feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I kept trying to tell myself it was nothing but nerves."
Olivia listened as Elliot continued to narrate, detailing how he had met Owen on the sidewalk, and that the neighbor had been on his way to check on her blood pressure again prior to leaving for work. There was no mistaking the emotion in Elliot's voice as he explained their attempt to get into the residence, or the way the two men discovered her unresponsive and bleeding on the kitchen floor.
"Even though I knew your injuries weren't intentional, I was still terrified. It took a while for the ambulance to get there, and even then, you hadn't even so much as flinched. Then, when I noticed your bloody palms and knees, I was even more worried."
Though she hadn't intended to interrupt, Olivia knew she had to do what she could to alleviate Elliot's fears.
"It was just a fall while running. So stupid really. I was almost to the walkway of the cottage when I tripped over my own feet. Next thing I knew, I was skidding on the sidewalk with the wind knocked out of me."
Elliot knew she was just trying to downplay the situation, and for the time being was willing to overlook it. Plus he hadn't started this conversation just so he could lecture her on her previously excessive exercise habits. That would only serve to have the opposite of the intended effect, and cause Olivia to close off even more. The goal was to get her to keep taking care of herself.
"I get that now, Liv, but you have to understand that we didn't know that then. All we could guess was that you'd passed out again, hitting your head hard enough to draw blood."
Without any conscious knowledge of what she was doing, Olivia brought her free hand to the spot just above her eyebrow, absently running her fingers over the stitches that resided there. Though they hadn't yet, she knew they would eventually begin to itch as they continued to heal. Lately though, she'd been so distracted by everything else surrounding her hospitalization that she had been feeling numb in regard toward her physical symptoms. These past few days, she'd barely even registered the fact that she was also being treated for a concussion. It was only when Malcolm David had been in the day before to prescribe the iron infusion that she had realized the full extent of the damage she'd inadvertently been inflicting on herself.
The sheer thought of what might have happened to her had Elliot not shown up in Cape May, and she had been allowed to continue on her disastrous self path paralyzed Olivia's mind. Words and diagnoses that she never would have associated with herself in a million years were suddenly ringing in her ears with a startling clarity – victim, trauma, eating disorder, suicidality, no control, failure – they echoed on repeat in a constant loop, the last one of them particularly taunting. It reminded her of the harshness of her reality, that she hadn't had any control then, just like she didn't possess any now. Hot tears of bitterness and shame leaked from beneath Olivia's closed lids, streaming their way down her cheeks. The only thing she hadn't realized was during her subsequent introspection, she had been speaking out loud. Elliot had heard everything.
Elliot's heart shattered to hear Olivia refer to herself in such a way. He longed to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight, but she was so distant at the moment, he feared the contact might break her. Instead, he continued to cling to her hand and spoke to her in a steady voice, praying that it would reach her through the darkness that held her in its clutches.
"You are not a failure Olivia, do you hear me? You're a survivor, and the bravest woman I've ever known. Yes, you're struggling right now, but I'm not going to let you go through this alone."
Somewhere through her haze, Olivia managed to hear a contradictory argument to the lies her own psyche was trying to feed her. While she couldn't make sense of the full sentences, one word resonated with her loud and clear – survivor. She clung to it with all her might, and like a swimmer trapped underwater began kicking as hard as she could to reach the surface, desperate for oxygen.
Blinking into awareness, Olivia realized that Elliot had never left her side, her hand still encased within his own. She was humiliated that she had allowed her thoughts to run away from her so easily, but one look in the eyes of the man sitting next to her, and she knew apologies weren't necessary. He had, after all, experienced his own personal hell not that long ago.
Now that she was back in the present, Elliot was hesitant to continue on with the conversation. When he suggested waiting for another time, though, Olivia refused. It appeared that even after what she'd been through just now, she needed the distraction.
"Okay, Liv. If you insist. Now, where was I? Oh, right. We brought you to the hospital. I know you don't need to relive what happened in the ER, so I won't rehash that."
Sighing in relief, Olivia could only nod her thanks. She hadn't wanted to revisit her behavior there, and was glad that Elliot was willing to overlook it, too.
"The only thing I will say is this – you were adamant about wanting to leave, but it was obvious you needed more extensive treatment. It wasn't on a psychiatric basis that we had you admitted, Olivia. The tests all proved you were showing early signs of malnourishment and vitamin deficiency. Plus there was the concussion to consider, too."
Speaking up again, Olivia tentatively asked the one question that had been eluding her ever since she had been transferred upstairs to her private room days before.
"So you were the one who signed me in?"
"No, Liv. It wasn't me. They took my observations of what I'd witnessed on your eating habits into consideration, but Don was the one who signed the forms. He is your current proxy after all. I didn't have the authority or say regarding your treatment."
Nodding, Olivia licked her lips, then continued.
"But you would have?"
Elliot didn't hesitate to give his reply.
"In a heartbeat. I would have been willing to risk your anger, just to know you were safe and being taken care of."
They sat in silence for several minutes, before Elliot dared to break the quiet.
"Is there anything else you need to know right now, Olivia?"
Shaking her head to indicate the negative, Olivia dissented.
"No, but I may have more questions later. Right now, I just need to have some time to process. I'm not mad though. I think I've known that from the moment I called you that night."
"Really?"
Smiling her first genuine smile since the heavy conversation between them had begun, Olivia nodded once more.
"Of course. No matter what has happened between us, Elliot, you've always been someone I can trust."
A/N2: I would like to thank purpleomaddy for previewing this chapter for me ahead of time, and for acting as my sounding board during our late chat nights.