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.
It wasn't until hours after Olivia's panic attack that she had finally calmed enough to crawl back into her hospital bed and settle under the covers. For the longest time, she and Elliot had just sat side by side in silence while she trembled uncontrollably. Though she'd been able to drink a cup of tea, she never had eaten any dinner, and she had also refused her evening smoothie. It was as though all the careful progress that had been made in recent days had been erased completely, and Elliot held himself to blame.
Now, as he sat keeping vigil over his former partner, Elliot scrubbed his palms over his face. He'd never eaten anything earlier either, because after seeing Olivia so visibly shaken, the last thing on his mind was satisfying his own hunger. In addition to the myriad of emotions coursing through him, with guilt being at the forefront, anger was competing for the top spot.
The source of his anger had to do primarily with the fact that Olivia had been a patient here for several days, and it was only tonight that he'd been informed that he did not need to leave the room to procure food for himself at the cafeteria. No, he could simply arrange to have his meals delivered along with Olivia's, and pay for each one at the cashier's office on the second floor of the hospital. No one had ever told them this before now. Elliot didn't fault April, because that young woman had always gone above and beyond to make sure Olivia was taken care of and as comfortable as possible.
Exhaling sharply, Elliot tried to calm himself down. Getting angry now would not help anyone, especially Olivia. If she should happen to wake up, she'd easily pick up on his unease, and that's the last thing he wanted. Instead, he tried to remind himself that a repeat of today's events would never happen again. Because of Don, he'd have breakfast in the morning, and once the other man was here to stay with Olivia, Elliot could go and arrange for the rest of his meals throughout the day.
A sharp cry from the woman on the bed captured Elliot's attention, and he was instantly on his feet. Hearing Olivia call out like this never failed to feel like a punch to his gut, in the same way that seeing her face contorted in fear threatened to break him every time. But this wasn't about him, and what mattered most was that he free Olivia from the mire that held her trapped in its grasp.
"Liv, can you hear me? It's Elliot. You're safe. It's just a dream."
As he always did when he tried to wake her in this situation, Elliot kept the cadence of his voice even and calm. He also made no attempt to make any sort of physical contact, though his hand was within easy reach should Olivia choose to take it upon regaining consciousness. Calling to her once more, he again tried to coax her back to the present.
"Liv? Come back to me. I'm right here."
With a choking gasp, Olivia sat up in bed suddenly, clutching at her chest as though it were difficult to take in air. Her eyes were filled with tears that were threatening to fall, and she looked around as though desperately trying to orient to her surroundings. It was only when her gaze fell on Elliot that her breathing began to regulate. At the same time, however, a flush stained Olivia's cheeks as she looked down at her lap and muttered self deprecatingly under her breath.
"Fuck, not again. So stupid."
Though Elliot wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Olivia, he wisely kept his distance. He didn't want to trigger her more than she already was, and he didn't want to make her feel crowded. Instead, he acted like nothing was amiss, and simply went about as normal.
"Can I get you anything, Liv? Some water, maybe?"
At Olivia's nod of consent, Elliot finally left his post by her bedside to pour her a fresh cup. He purposely took his time, giving the brunette a few extra moments to compose herself. Thankfully, there was still plenty of ice remaining in the pitcher, so the water hadn't warmed up in the least. One of the few things Olivia had insisted upon was that her water had to be cold, and Elliot was relieved he would not have to leave the room or press the call button in order to get her more. The last thing she needed right now was an audience.
"Here you go."
As he passed the cup, it didn't escape Elliot's notice the way Olivia held it tightly in both hands. She was still shaking so much that the liquid threatened to spill over the edges as she brought the drinking vessel to her lips to take a few careful sips. Once she'd had her fill, Olivia extended the cup back in Elliot's direction, purposely avoiding any accidental contact that might occur. She collapsed back against the pillows with a barely contained sob, bringing her palms up to cover her face in shame.
Resuming his prior position in the chair next to the bed, Elliot again tried to offer comfort.
"What do you need me to do, Liv?"
Lifting her head, Olivia cast her watery eyes toward Elliot with a regretful smile. She didn't know what to say, and she hated to keep repeating herself. The truth was, he was doing everything right. She was the one who was the problem.
"Nothing, Elliot. I'm just a mess right now. I'm sorry I woke you."
Elliot didn't respond immediately, and a beat or two passed as recognition dawned.
"Elliot? Please tell me you weren't missing sleep because of me again."
Reaching out, but still avoiding actual touch, Elliot rested his hand next to Olivia's where it lay on the bed.
"Don't worry about me. I knew after what happened earlier you'd be in for a rough night, and I wanted to be sure you'd be okay."
Finally seeking out the comfort she'd been denying herself ever since she woke up from the nightmare that had held her in it's grasp, Olivia wrapped her fingers around Elliot's and hung on for all she was worth.
"Thank you."
Miraculously, Olivia had managed to fall back to sleep not long after she had woken from her nightmare. Elliot had exhaled a sigh of relief once he'd realized that her breathing had leveled out to a more even cadence, and said a prayer that her slumber would continue uninterrupted for the remainder of the night. As for himself, he planned to resume his vigil, denying his own body's penchant for rest out of a greater need to ensure the woman whom he cared about so deeply would feel safe in his presence.
The halls outside Olivia's room were quiet at this late hour, so it was easy for Elliot to discern the sound of someone walking in their general direction. As the footfalls grew closer, he swore under his breath, cursing any disruption that would potentially wake Olivia again. When the change in light distribution indicated that the door to the room had been opened, only for relative darkness to fall a second time, Elliot held his breath. Don Cragen was the last person he ever expected to see coming around the corner through the short entryway, but nonetheless, the man was here.
"Don? What are you doing here?"
In deference to a sleeping Olivia, Elliot kept the volume of his voice to barely above a whisper. Even so, confusion and curiosity were waging an internal battle in his mind, and both demanded answers. It was true that he'd called the older man earlier that evening, to explain what had happened with Olivia's dinner. The last thing he'd been expecting was for Don to show up here at the hospital in the middle of the night.
"I know you, Elliot. You're blaming yourself for what happened tonight, and refusing to leave Olivia's side. That also means that you aren't sleeping. I took a nap just after you called, so I'm well rested. I can sit with her for awhile so you can get a few good hours."
Although Elliot greatly appreciated the offer, he was hesitant to accept. Olivia was already having a rough night, and if she should wake up again, he wanted to be there for her. As though he had intuited the younger man's thoughts, Don added on some additional reassurance.
"I promise, I will wake you up if she asks for you."
Elliot scrubbed his palm down his face, exhaling softly. Subconsciously, he gnawed on his lower lip as he tried to make up his mind. Seeing that Elliot was still wrestling with decision, Don spoke up with the one bit of information that was guaranteed to convince him.
"You do realize, that no matter how upset she is, if she figures out you stopped taking care of yourself in order to take care of her, she's going to kick your ass?"
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Elliot couldn't stop his smile. Don had made a very valid point. Olivia would kick his ass if she found out he skipped sleep in order to watch over her. Just like she would kick his ass if he missed his meeting tomorrow morning. It was a promise he had made to her, and he had vowed to never break his word to her ever again.
With a final glance, and confirming to himself that Olivia was in fact sleeping peacefully for the time being, Elliot got to his feet and relinquished his chair by her bedside. Secure in the knowledge that he wasn't leaving her alone, he went down the hall to the visitor bathroom to change into a pair of track pants and a tee shirt for the night. Once back in the room, he crossed to the love seat that had become his bed at night, and set up his pillow and blanket to try and make himself as comfortable as possible. Even though his worry for Olivia was still the foremost thought in his mind, the fatigue took over a few minutes after he closed his eyes, and sleep claimed him.
It was five hours later that Elliot awoke to the sound of Don's voice calling to him. Having fallen into a deeper sleep than he had planned, a groggy sensation prevailed for several minutes longer than normal. Swinging his legs around to the floor, Elliot brought himself to a seated position, shaking his head in an attempt to rid his brain of the cobwebs. As clarity finally dawned, he turned his head sharply to the woman on the bed, surging to his feet. Don rested a hand on his shoulder in an instant, soothing him quietly.
"Take it easy, Elliot. Olivia's still asleep. She was restless a few times, but never woke up."
Relieved at the news, Elliot allowed himself to be coaxed into following his typical routine as it had been the past few mornings – taking a shower, then going to the visitor's lounge to attend a virtual meeting. Just as he had during the night, Don promised he wouldn't leave Olivia's side.
Secure in the knowledge that Olivia wasn't alone, even though a part of him knew she likely wouldn't awaken until after his return, Elliot was able to not only pay attention, but even participate in his morning meeting. While he hadn't had any actual desire to consume alcohol since the day Olivia had been admitted to the hospital, it was paramount that he keep up with his attendance. He would do anything for her, but as he'd been reminded, taking care of her also meant taking care of himself, and that included staying sober.
Despite how involved he normally was in the virtual forum, Elliot couldn't seem to break the habit of continually checking his watch. It wasn't that he was desperate for the session to come to a conclusion, more his anxiety that Olivia would wake in his absence. Now more than ever, it was imperative to him that his be one of the first faces she saw. Not that he doubted her faith in him – even if until only recently he had given her good reason for lack of trust. It hadn't escaped his notice that his partner of more than a dozen years still addressed him by his full name, save for the two rare occasions she had slipped into the habit of familiar patterns and used the lone syllable nickname he was more accustomed to hearing from her.
"Elliot?"
Pulled from his wayward thoughts, a distracted Elliot was embarrassed to realize he had completely zoned out and missed the remainder of the meeting. Everyone else had since logged off, and now the counselor was checking in with him one-on-one to make sure he was alright. Though he hadn't shared Olivia's personal issues in his meetings, Elliot had stated that he'd been awake most of the night helping a friend, hoping it would explain his lack of participation. Thankfully, it did, and after ensuring that he was in fact okay, Elliot was able to sign off.
While this would normally be the time he'd sprint downstairs to get coffee, such plans weren't on Elliot's schedule today. Instead, he headed directly back to Olivia's room. It had nothing to do with not trusting Don, and everything with wanting to be there the instant the breakfast trays were delivered. He still held himself responsible for Olivia having been triggered the day before at dinner, and was hoping beyond hope that she would have calmed enough to actually consider eating this morning. If she were to refuse again, he didn't know what he would do.
Coming around the corner, Elliot sighed in relief when he observed that Olivia was still as he'd left her, sleeping fitfully in her bed. Don was in the chair by her side, reading something on his tablet. Elliot had been so fraught with worry the night before, he hadn't even noticed that the older man had brought along a bag of his own containing a few things to help pass the time. Keeping his voice low, Elliot asked the question at the forefront of his mind.
"Don? Has she woken up at all while I've been away?"
"No."
Though it felt like an extreme invasion of her privacy to watch Olivia so intently as she slumbered, Elliot couldn't help but notice the way her brow furrowed in her sleep. It broke his heart knowing that even now, when she was supposed to be granted a reprieve from the traumas that haunted her, she could never truly be free. Nightmares lurked around every corner, waiting to seep into the recesses of her mind at a moment's notice, disrupting what little peace she could find. While logic and years of experience had taught Elliot that it wouldn't always be this way, he wished for anything that would give him the power to go back in time and spare his partner this burden she would forever carry. If he couldn't circumvent it entirely, then at least to erase the events of the previous afternoon, to prevent the setback that he feared would unravel the progress Olivia had worked so hard to make these past few days.
Picking up on the unspoken cues from Elliot's body language, Don excused himself from the room for awhile. His reasons were vague, but truth be told, Elliot really wasn't paying attention. The only thing he'd heard for certain had been the question the other man had asked about whether or not he would be wanting anything for breakfast. That was when Elliot explained that after this meal he would be having trays delivered along with Olivia's. For now, though, he did accept Don's offer of coffee and something to eat.
A few minutes after Don had left, an aide came into the room to take Olivia's vitals, and Elliot cursed the interruption. To make matters worse, it wasn't anyone he'd come to recognize. It made sense that April would be off today, having worked a double shift the day before, but Elliot had hoped that at least meant Olivia would be under Bryan's care this morning. He tried not to lose faith altogether, maybe the young man would be working this afternoon. But, as the aide approached the bed and startled the sleeping woman by abruptly wrapping the blood pressure cuff around her upper arm without any warning, Elliot could hold his tongue no longer.
"You can't just do that! She has PTSD, you have to warn her first before you touch her, especially when she's just waking up."
The aide said nothing in response, but Elliot didn't miss the way the young woman had rolled her eyes just before turning her back. Biting his tongue, he opted to stay silent, knowing the last thing Olivia needed to wake up to was conflict. If any trouble was started, though, he wouldn't hesitate to advocate on her behalf. Then, there was no time to say anything, because Olivia was awake. Her eyes darted around the room, and it was only when her gaze landed on Elliot that she visibly relaxed.
"What's going on?"
Olivia's voice was scratchy from sleep, and confusion was apparent in her tone. She was seeking her answers from her former partner. It was clear that was where she had chosen to place her trust. Not in the medical professional who could give her answers, but in the man who she had walked beside for over a decade.
"Everything is fine, Liv. It was just time for your morning vitals, which means breakfast trays are going to be brought around in a bit. Don will be here soon, too, and he's bringing you coffee. Did you want to get cleaned up for the day first?"
Though he wanted to kick himself for inundating her with so much information all at once, Elliot knew it was imperative not to ask Olivia just yet whether or not she wanted to eat. He planned to carry on as though it were a typical morning, and see how things played out. If she didn't express any interest in the meal he had ordered for her, he would go and get her anything she desired, all he hoped was that he could coax her to eat something.
Thankfully, Olivia hadn't protested the idea of food – at least not yet. She did however, nod her assent to wanting to freshen up. Minutes later, she had retreated to the solitude of the bathroom. Elliot used the time he had to himself to straighten up the room a little, not that it was messy. Mostly, he made sure the table was ready so Olivia would be able to eat her breakfast, and unplugged her phone and tablet from where they had been charging the night before.
Elliot had just completed his task when Olivia emerged from the bathroom. Walking to the cabinet by the door, she deposited her clothes from the day before in the paper bag that was serving as a makeshift hamper. Then, she crossed the floor to approach her friend, and uncertain expression on her face.
"Elliot, about breakfast..."
Elliot rested the palms of his hands lightly on Olivia's shoulders and squeezed gently.
"Don't worry about it, Liv. We'll take it one step at a time. First things first, are you hungry this morning?"
Reassured by Olivia's nod, Elliot decided to push the envelope just a bit more.
"Okay, that's a good start. Now, that doesn't mean you have to eat what I ordered for you. If you just want something simple today, I can message Don and have him bring you up something from the cafeteria or coffee shop on his way in. A bagel perhaps, or maybe a blueberry muffin?"
There was something about those suggestions that caused a brief flicker of a smile for the brunette. It was as though she remembered the other morning not long ago when he'd selected a blueberry muffin for her breakfast, knowing just how much she favored them.
"I think a blueberry muffin sounds good. Plus, if it's not too much trouble, a fruit and yogurt parfait?"
"You've got it."
Just as Elliot had anticipated, breakfast had been more of a struggle for Olivia than in recent days. However, she had managed to eat half of a very large blueberry muffin, in addition to a fruit and yogurt parfait. Considering her state of mind the night before, it was quite the achievement, and Elliot held on to the hope that perhaps the setback regarding food would not be as severe as he had initially thought.
Now that the remnants of their morning meal had been cleared away, the trio sat in a comfortable ease, nursing what was left of their coffee. Olivia had been quieter than usual this morning, but neither man faulted her for her silence. In addition to what was already weighing heavily on her mind, Elliot had no doubt that his friend was anxious about the upcoming appointment this afternoon.
Elliot had always known that Olivia didn't trust easily, and now she would have to place her faith in a new psychiatrist. To make matters worse, she would also undoubtedly have to relive the entirety of her trauma all over again as she relayed the tale of what had happened to her. Experience had taught him that it wouldn't be enough for this new doctor to simply read the files they had been sent, instead they would want to hear the account from Olivia herself. While the part of him that had spent decades in law enforcement understood this reasoning, the side that wanted to protect his partner as much as he possibly could prayed for anything that would spare her from that line of questioning.
Later in the morning, Don left to head back to the cottage. He claimed he had some errands he needed to take care of, and Olivia was none the wiser to the fact that her former Captain was actually heading back to catch up on his sleep. She still had no idea that Don had arrived in the middle of the night, nor that he was the one who had kept watch over her while she slept, all so Elliot could get some rest, too.
When they were alone again, it didn't take long for Elliot to pick up on Olivia's continued restlessness. She hadn't made eye contact in over an hour, and even though her coffee cup had long since been empty, she kept fiddling with it, systematically tearing the cardboard vessel to shreds. Her leg was bouncing up and down, a sure sign of her anxiety, and Elliot worried that if Olivia chewed on her lower lip much more, her teeth would pierce the sensitive skin and cause it to bleed.
"Liv."
He called her name softly, trying to get her attention without startling her. When Olivia acknowledged his voice, she raised her gaze in his direction, and nodded ever so slightly in recognition.
"What do you say we go walk the halls for a bit? Might do you some good to stretch your legs."
Though she didn't respond verbally, Olivia nodded for a second time. She managed to give a half-hearted smile, as yet again, Elliot had read her mind and intuited exactly what she was thinking. A few minutes later, the pair had made their way into the hall and were headed in the direction of the visitor's lounge. Like so many times before, Olivia walked with her arm looped through the crook of Elliot's, and her head resting on his shoulder. They didn't speak, but the silence between them wasn't awkward or uncomfortable.
Today's walk went on longer than any previous one ever had, but Elliot didn't push the issue. He knew that Olivia needed to burn off excess energy and try and distract herself. Dr. Barnes had stopped in for a visit earlier that morning, and informed them that Olivia's appointment with Dr. Hamil was confirmed for one o'clock that afternoon. Per Olivia's request, she would be traveling to the building next door to have her session in Dr. Hamil's office itself, instead of remaining in her room. Elliot hadn't been surprised by Olivia's decision. In fact, once the option to leave the hospital had been presented - even if it was only temporary - he knew she would take it. Not that he blamed her, if he were in her shoes, he figured he'd make the same choice.
On the way back to her room, Olivia faltered in her steps, stumbling over her own feet. Though he hated to touch her without warning, Elliot reached out to brace her with both hands and keep her upright. His eyes swept over her in concern, until he realized that Olivia had merely become distracted by her own thinking, and lost her footing. Even so, he was relieved they were headed back to the room. Not only was it almost time for the lunch trays to be delivered, but after the midday meal – which he hoped Olivia would eat – it would be time for the appointment with Dr. Hamil.
Once the pair had set foot in the relative safety of Olivia's assigned quarters, the first thing the brunette did was untangle her arm from Elliot's and retreat to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. As much as he tried to hold it in, Elliot couldn't help the sigh of frustration that escaped from his lips. He now knew for certain that Olivia had also heard the telltale sound of the food cart from the end of the hall, and was attempting to avoid at all costs the impending arrival of her lunch. The only thing that helped him be more at ease was knowing that he had selected a relatively light meal today. Elliot couldn't help but wonder if it had been instinct on his part, as when he'd made the choices the morning before, he'd had no clue that Olivia would have an appointment this afternoon. Or worse, that she would be traumatized by the arrival of dinner the previous evening, causing a setback with her appetite in general.
Olivia was still locked within the lavatory chamber when an orderly delivered two trays, depositing them on the table. After inspecting their contents, Elliot hastily moved one to the window, and began to reduce the lunch into a more manageable meal. He set out half of a turkey wrap and some fresh vegetables with dip. Then, since he never forgot to include a dessert to satisfy Olivia's sweet tooth, he added half of a brownie.
There was of course, more on the tray that he had chosen for her today, like a side salad and some fresh fruit, but he didn't want to overwhelm Olivia. It was one of the many reasons he had yet to knock on the bathroom door. The retreat she had chosen was many things, but it definitely wasn't soundproof. Elliot knew without a doubt that Olivia was fully aware of everything going on out here in the main room, and he didn't want to rush her into something before she was ready.
Instead, Elliot took his seat at the table and waited patiently. From underneath the plastic cloche, the aroma of his burger and fries wafted up to his nostrils, making his stomach growl in anticipation. He couldn't help but feel guilty for acknowledging his own feelings of hunger. Shaking his head in distraction, Elliot's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening, followed by footsteps. He looked up to see Olivia walking toward him.
"You didn't need to wait for me, Elliot. You could have started eating. I'm not that hungry, anyway."
Elliot tried to keep his expression neutral, even though he was worried. He tried to tell himself that, this time, Olivia's lack of appetite stemmed from nervousness in regard to her appointment, but a part of him feared that she had taken a monumental step backward in her recovery. He reminded himself that she had expressed interest in breakfast, even if the meal itself had been smaller than usual. It had to be anxiety related. Elliot decided then and there that he wasn't going to push the issue. If Olivia didn't want to eat before her appointment, he wasn't going to force her. They could simply wait until she was finished, and get something afterward.
"I'm not going to force you to eat, Liv. If you think you can try, I set some things out for you I thought you might like. If not, I can always get you something else when we get back."
A look of confusion washed over Olivia's face.
"When we get back?"
"Of course. You didn't think I was letting you go alone, did you? I know I'll just be in the waiting room of the doctor's office next door, but I promised you that I'd be by your side through this, and I meant it."
Finally taking her seat at the small table across from Elliot, Olivia visibly relaxed. She made no immediate moves to eat any of the food in front of her, but she did open the bottle of water. Although he was tempted to deny his own needs in a gesture of solidarity, Elliot knew that Olivia would rather that he eat, so he removed the cover and turned his attentions to his own lunch. As he did so, he noticed when Olivia carefully picked up a baby carrot and hesitantly dunked it into the container of dip before bringing it to her lips. Whether Olivia was consciously aware of the fact that she was eating something, or merely operating on auto pilot, Elliot didn't know. He wasn't about to call her out on it, though.
Forty-five minutes later, Olivia had managed to finish most of the raw vegetables on her plate and take three bites of her turkey wrap. Elliot's tray had long since been empty, but he was in no hurry. He was just about to get ready to clean up when someone came into the room, pushing a wheelchair, and he bit back a groan. This was not going to go over well.
"Sergeant Benson? I'm here to take you to your appointment with Doctor Hamil. If you need to take a minute to get yourself together, that is fine. Whenever you're ready, have a seat, and we can go."
Confused as to what this person could possibly be talking about, Olivia turned around in her seat. The instant she spotted the wheelchair, she blanched.
"I don't need a wheelchair. I'm perfectly capable of walking. I've been walking the halls every day."
The aide, a different young woman than whom had been taking care of Olivia throughout the day, smiled apologetically.
"I'm sorry, I know it's frustrating. But, it's hospital policy. Anytime you go for tests, or to see another doctor in another part of the building – or next door – a patient must be transported by wheelchair."
Olivia mumbled something under her breath that only Elliot could hear, and he bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. That was yet another sign that the woman he knew and loved was still there beneath the surface, fighting to break free. She may be struggling with the aftermath of trauma, but he was more certain than ever that Olivia was going to beat this. It would just take time.
Though she remained silent for the duration of the journey from her hospital room to the medical office building next door, Olivia was anything but calm. As he had promised, Elliot remained close by, having refused to leave her side. Though neither of them had spoken, his presence in itself was reassuring, and bolstered Olivia's confidence enough to keep the panic from taking over entirely.
Much to Olivia's dismay, the travel time did not take long, and within mere minutes, she was being pushed through the door of Dr. Hamil's office. The aide who had escorted them left Olivia parked by a row of chairs, then carried her chart to the receptionist in order to check her in. Meanwhile, Elliot took a seat next to Olivia, leaving his hand on the armrest of his chair. He wasn't exactly touching the brunette, but his fingers were close enough in proximity that she could grab hold of him for support if she so chose.
"Good luck with your appointment Sergeant. Someone from the office here will call me when you are finished, and I'll come back to get you."
Elliot heard Olivia's soft spoken reply of 'thank you', but also knew her well enough to recognize that she was not aware she had responded. Her mind was so centrally focused on what was going to happen within the next sixty minutes, and the horrors she would have to relive, that there was no space for her to concentrate on anything else.
"Olivia Benson?"
As soon as her name was called, Elliot felt, rather than heard, the cessation of breath from the woman sitting next to him. More than anything, he wanted to provide comfort in that moment, but feared if he were to touch Olivia now, he would only frighten her more. The last thing she needed now was to be sent spiraling into a flashback when she would be asked to confront her traumas head on.
Dr. Lydia Hamil was a light skinned, African American woman with kind eyes and a warm smile. She was tall and thin, and if he didn't already know her profession, Elliot could have easily placed her among the detectives with whom he used to work. Her attire was professional, but casual enough to keep those around her comfortable. The other trait that was most notable was her accent. If Elliot had to hazard a guess, he would have to say that Dr. Hamil was from somewhere in the United Kingdom. He'd only just met her, and already found her voice soothing. He only hoped it would have the same effect on Olivia.
Instead of taking Olivia back to her office right away, as Elliot had assumed would happen, Dr. Hamil seemed to be picking up on the unspoken cues between the two people in front of her. Without missing a beat, she addressed her patient, already doing whatever was necessary to ensure this woman's comfort.
"Olivia, would it make you feel more comfortable if your friend were to come back with us? Or would you prefer that we talk alone?"
Still unable to speak, Olivia turned her gaze to Elliot. The look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know, the things she couldn't ask for out loud. Feeling more confident now, he reached for her hand and squeezed once gently while simultaneously nodding his head.
"I promised you, Liv. I'm here for whatever you need. If you want me to leave at any point, just say the word."
Standing, Elliot rested his palm lightly on Olivia's shoulder to prevent her from getting to her feet. It was a subtle reminder that she needed to stay in the wheelchair, and although she glared at him briefly, she remained seated. Taking his place behind Olivia, Elliot guided the wheelchair through the door and followed the psychiatrist down the hall toward her office. Once they were inside, and given a moment to take in the look and feel of the room, Elliot and Olivia exchanged a glance.
Given their line of work, and their thirteen years together as partners, neither were strangers to visiting a psychiatrist. Regular check-ins were a mandatory requirement for the job, and that didn't include all the times they were asked to follow up on their mental health after a particularly difficult case. More recently, it had been their own personal traumas that led them through doors like these, but neither had ever encountered an office like this one before.
Instead of the institutional white that Olivia was so accustomed to seeing, the walls here were painted a calming shade of pale blue. Twin love seats faced one another across a simple oak coffee table, which held a box of tissues. The harsh overhead florescent lights were turned off in favor of the more muted glow provided by floor lamps on either side of the comfortable furniture. There was a desk in the room, compete with requisite computer, but it was situated in the far corner. This caused Olivia to exhale a sigh of relief, as one of her biggest pet peeves in her previous therapy sessions was having Dr. Lindstrom stare down at her from the opposite side of a desk. Something about the positioning always made her feel inferior, and that wasn't conducive to a treatment where she was supposed to be building back up her self esteem in addition to healing from trauma.
"Elliot -"
With a soft touch to the shoulder, Elliot kept Olivia from saying anything more. He knew exactly what she wanted, and was going to do everything in his power to make sure she got it.
"Dr. Hamil? I understand that Liv needs to be in the wheelchair for transport to and from her room, but would it be all right if she moved to a more comfortable seat for her session?"
"Of course."
After making sure the brakes were set, Elliot held out his hands with the palms up. Once again, he was giving Olivia the option to do things on her own, with minimal assistance on his part. Once she was safely seated on the cushions of the love seat that faced the windows, he quickly folded up the wheelchair and moved it out of sight for the time being before taking his own spot next to her. Together, they faced the doctor and waited.
"Before we get started, I wanted to know what you prefer to be known as here. Would you like me to address you by your formal title of Sergeant?"
Even though the difficult questions hadn't even begun yet, Olivia could feel the anxiety taking over. Already she was regretting eating what little she had consumed at lunch, as nausea began to stir in the pit of her stomach. Swallowing harshly, she willed everything to stay where it belonged. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, and was immediately calmed by the scent of Elliot's cologne. Yet again, his mere presence was just what she needed to ground her. Finding her voice at last, Olivia managed to answer the doctor.
"Olivia is fine."
With a smile, Dr. Hamil settled on the opposite love seat, crossing her legs. She had kept her patient's chart with her, but had yet to publicly acknowledge it.
"All right then, Olivia. Please feel free to call me Lydia."
Elliot introduced himself, and Lydia checked in again and confirmed that Olivia was comfortable with him being there. Then, she pulled out a blank yellow legal pad from underneath Olivia's chart, along with a pen.
"Try not to worry, Olivia, we're going to take things slowly today. Why don't you begin by telling me what brought you to the hospital earlier this week, and then we'll go from there?"
Conflicted now, Olivia didn't know what to say or do. Granted, she was relieved she wouldn't have to talk about Lewis immediately, but the topic surrounding her hospitalization wasn't exactly an easy subject, either. She hadn't forgotten that she had been admitted against her own will – even if it had ultimately been with her best interests at heart. Biting her lip, she tried to figure out how to word things in a way that wouldn't paint her in a negative light.
"I'm sure you already know this, but above and beyond the medical reasons, I was signed in by a friend, and not by my own choice."
Lydia didn't say anything, but she did nod slightly, confirming that Olivia's summation was correct.
"I doubt I would have been able to admit this as little as two days ago, but one of the many reasons I'm here is because I wasn't taking care of myself. But it wasn't on purpose – at least, I don't think so."
"Can you tell me more about that, Olivia?"
Unable to maintain eye contact, Olivia studied her hands, which were clasped together in her lap. As she did so, she narrated what her days and nights had been like ever since her arrival in Cape May – the almost obsessive need to run, the lack of appetite, and night terrors. She even relayed her preference for extremely hot showers, and the few fainting spells that Elliot had told her about. For several minutes, Olivia considered omitting the detail about having wandered into the ocean, but then she reminded herself that she was here for help, and telling the truth – all of it – was of the utmost importance. So, even though it was second hand, Olivia informed Lydia of what Elliot and Owen had told her about having found her in the water.
By the time Olivia was done with her brief history, Lydia had several notes jotted down on the page in front of her.
"How has your appetite been since your admission?"
"I refused to eat anything at first. I'm sure you're also aware that I tried and failed to escape. Since that night, Elliot has been staying with me, and he helps me with my meals. I won't say they still aren't a struggle, but when he scales them down, they are more manageable."
Lydia made another notation, then looked at the brunette sitting across from her.
"I'm sure this has been mentioned to you already, but it bears repeating. I've looked over your records, and if you continue to lose weight, we might have to look into adding a low dose of an appetite stimulant to your medication regimen on a short term basis."
Olivia opened her mouth to speak, but the psychiatrist held up her palm.
"I understand and respect your desire to do this on your own, but continued weight loss can lead to additional health issues – as you've already experienced with the low blood pressure. Even with the supplemental shakes we've been adding, you're still not meeting your daily caloric requirements."
Temporarily defeated, but not having the energy to argue, Olivia could only nod.
"All right. I'll take it, I'll start now. I want to get better."
"Okay then. I'll coordinate with Rene, and we'll get you started soon."
Now that the details surrounding her hospitalization had been explained, Olivia knew she could no longer delay the inevitable. She would have to once again relive the worst traumas of her life as she detailed her encounters with William Lewis to someone new. The sheer thought of it was overwhelming, and despite all her efforts to remain in control, her body began to tremble involuntarily. Once again, Dr. Hamil proved to be incredibly perceptive.
"Olivia, I'm not sure if you remember, but ever since you were admitted here, we've been working with your doctors back in New York City. You've already consented to Dr. Lindstrom sharing your files, and I spent most of yesterday reading through them in preparation for having you under my care."
The psychiatrist paused in speaking for a moment before continuing.
"I'm already familiar with the incidents that led you to seeking treatment to begin with, and won't be asking you to relive any of that right now. Obviously, if you do decide to remain my patient, we will have to touch on them eventually, but I'm not going to make you discuss them today."
Olivia's sigh of relief was audible, and despite her best efforts to stay in control, tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. She tried to keep focused, though, because Lydia wasn't done talking.
"What I want to work on today, are possible treatment plans for your discharge from the hospital. Now that your health is becoming more stable, we won't need to keep you any longer, but we also want to do everything possible to prevent your need for a return."
Now, this was something Olivia could find herself invested in. Not that she didn't care about her other treatment, but anything that would get her back home again – even if it wasn't necessarily home to New York – was worth listening to.
"First things first, Olivia, how do you feel about your medications? Are you comfortable with your current dosages? What, if anything would you change?"
This was something Elliot had been dreading. Even though they had spent several years apart, he still knew Olivia well enough to understand that, given the choice, she would prefer not to take anything. He fervently hoped she wouldn't attempt to backtrack now. He could remember hard it had been back in the day to get her to take so much as an aspirin, and now, thanks to William Lewis, Olivia's aversion to medication was compounded even more. He held his breath as he joined Dr. Hamil in waiting for an answer.
"Truth be told, I haven't exactly noticed much of a difference in my mood. My sleep is as messed up as ever. I'm surprised I haven't kept the entire hospital awake with my shouting."
Dr. Hamil made a few more notes, then continued with her questioning.
"I remember reading in your chart that you prefer not to take sleeping pills, and also have similar feelings in regard to tranquilizers. What would be your take if I were to add a medication that happened to have sedating properties?"
The expression on Olivia's face highlighted her confusion. Wasn't that essentially the same thing? Before she had a chance to object, Lydia hurried to explain.
"You may have heard of Trazodone. It is commonly used to treat depression and anxiety, but can also help individuals with those conditions improve their sleep. Unfortunately, it is only available in pill form, and I know you have issues with that."
As she considered her options, Olivia dared to glance to her left where Elliot sat beside her. Brown eyes met blue, and the encouragement she found in them was everything she needed in that moment. She knew he wasn't going to influence her decision in either direction, but would merely support whatever route she chose. Knowing that Elliot wasn't going to overstep and endorse her adding another medication to her regimen – even if he did happen to believe it was in her best interest – gave Olivia the confidence she needed to accept it for herself.
"As long as it's not an actual sleeping pill, I'll try it. But isn't it dangerous to take two antidepressants together? Does this mean I'll have to stop taking the citalopram?"
Olivia's concerns were valid, and Lydia Hamil was impressed with her questioning. Judging by the look on Elliot's face, it seemed he was worried about the same thing. This was another relief, as it always did her heart good in her line of work when her patients had someone who would advocate for them the way it appeared Olivia did.
"Two antidepressants can be taken together. They can often be complimentary. It is true we will have to monitor the dosages closely, as it will put you at risk for something called Seratonin Syndrome, but I will be starting you at such a low dose of the Trazadone that I don't think you will have any issues."
There was a pause, then Dr. Hamil continued.
"I'm going to start you on fifty milligrams, which is the lowest possible dose. You will take it at bedtime, and please be sure to inform us if you experience any unusual side effects."
"I will."
Knowing it might earn him a glare or two, Elliot also affirmed his promise to notify hospital staff should he observe any adverse reactions. Neither he nor Olivia, though, were prepared for what the psychiatrist had to say next.
"Now, I want to discuss your treatment plans for after your discharge. I would like to get you enrolled in an intensive therapy program, something you would attend several days a week. The group and individual psychotherapy sessions would be mandatory, but you would have options for other choices as well. There are relaxation techniques, low impact exercise classes, art therapy, and that's just a brief example."
Now, Olivia's expression was one of shock and disbelief. She was almost tempted to pinch herself, so convinced that this was all a dream. Granted, she wasn't entirely sure she was willing to put in all the work that had just been described to her, but had she actually heard Lydia correctly? Had the doctor really mentioned discharge from the hospital?
"Yes, Olivia. If everything works out as planned, I'd like to get you set up in our outpatient program by Monday of next week. If I'm able to get you enrolled, and you feel comfortable spending the weekend at home on your own, I would be able to arrange for you to leave as early as tomorrow."
Olivia was torn. She wanted to leave the hospital more than anything, but all these plans that Lydia was detailing just seemed so daunting. Intensive treatment multiple days a week? Group therapy? How on earth could she be expected to survive that, when it took every ounce of strength she possessed just to wake up in the morning and get through the day? She couldn't even manage meals on her own right now!
As the overwhelming feeling of the impossible grew, fear closed in from all sides. The comforting lights and colors of the office faded away, and instead, Olivia saw only darkness. Her breathing became more choppy as her chest rose and fell rapidly with each gasp of air she tried to take in an attempt to fill her starving lungs. By the time the panic attack had fully taken hold, she was shaking uncontrollably and no longer aware of the psychiatrist's presence in the room, nor of Elliot sitting beside her – even though she was clinging to his hand for all she was worth.
"Olivia? Olivia, can you hear me?"
Dr. Lydia Hamil tried repeatedly to reach her patient. No matter how many years she had been in this line of work, she always hated seeing someone in such obvious distress. Turning her attention to the man sitting to Olivia's left, it was easy to notice the look of care and concern on his face. Her next instructions were automatic.
"Call to her. See if she'll respond to a voice she recognizes."
"Liv? Liv, it's Elliot. I want you to feel my hand holding yours, and listen to my voice. Come back to me, Liv."
The brunette didn't respond, but her eyes closed as she squeezed Elliot's hand reflexively. It was as though she were reminding himself that the lifeline that had grounded her ever since she had set foot in this room still existed. Encouraged, he continued to try and bring her back to the present.
"Yes, Liv. I'm right here. Now, I want you to focus on your breathing. Inhale slowly through your nose, then exhale through your mouth. I'll do it with you, ready? In...out...and again."
As Elliot coached Olivia through the breathing exercises, he felt the shaking in her body begin to gradually abate. After about five minutes, she was able to open her eyes. Once Olivia recognized what had just happened, her cheeks flushed in shame. The next thought that came to her muddled mind was that she had just blown any and all chances of getting out of the hospital, and she internally berated herself for her weakness.
Lydia rose from her seat, and went to the mini fridge in the corner of the room, an item that had previously gone unnoticed by both Olivia and Elliot. There, the psychiatrist retrieved a small bottle of water, which she brought back with her and wordlessly passed off to the woman still struggling to compose herself.
"Thank you."
Though the shaking in her body had already stopped, there was still a slight tremor present in Olivia's hands, and opening the plastic cap was a bit of a struggle. With no intentions on insulting his friend's pride, Elliot wordlessly took the bottle, broke the protective seal, then passed it back. After Olivia took a careful sip, she sighed heavily. There was no doubt that the panic attack had taken it's toll on her psyche, not to mention the additional dread she was no doubt feeling as to the conversation that would be prompted as a result of what had just happened.
"Olivia, can you tell me about where your mind went a few minutes ago?"
So there it was. The question she'd been dreading. Now, Olivia knew she'd have to explain herself. Would it sound as stupid out loud as it did in her own mind? Still, if she ever did want to leave this godforsaken hospital, staying silent wasn't an option.
"I was thinking about what it would mean to go back home – or at least, back to where I'm staying here in Cape May – and all the responsibilities my discharge entails. It's incredibly overwhelming."
Although the road to her recovery was still considerable, Olivia felt a modicum in the weight of the burdens she carried lessen ever so slightly by that one admission. Throughout their years together as partners, Elliot had continually reminded her that she wasn't a superhero. Never had that sentiment felt more true than it did at this present time of her life, but it also reinforced something else to Olivia- she couldn't do everything on her own. If she was ever going to heal, it was time she reached out to more than just friends.
Once her appointment had ended, Olivia was taken back to her room. There, she surprised not only herself, but Elliot as well by requesting another soft pretzel like he had gotten her the other day. Even though she knew that meant he would have to leave her on her own for a period of time in order to procure the salty treat, her craving was that great that she didn't object. Plus, with all the thoughts currently swirling about in her mind, Olivia acknowledged she needed some time alone to process not only everything that had just happened with Dr. Hamil, but what awaited her the following week.
Olivia was sitting in the relative comfort of the reclining chair, her legs drawn up against her chest and arms wrapped around her knees when Elliot returned with their snack twenty minutes later. She didn't react to his presence, a definite sign that she was still lost in thought. Afraid of startling her and triggering yet another panic attack – or worse, a flashback – Elliot called to her quietly to get her attention until she realized she was no longer alone.
"Liv."
Pulled from her reverie at last, Olivia turned her head to see Elliot standing by the small table in her room. A brown bag lay waiting on the table's surface. Just like the other day, the fragrant aroma emanating from the paper sack told her that the pretzels Elliot had purchased were fresh from the oven.
"Can I get you anything to drink, Liv?"
Olivia shook her head to indicate the negative. She wasn't refusing hydration, merely needed to explain that it was nearly time for her mid afternoon smoothie. She'd simply opt to drink the mixed berry concoction while she ate. What Olivia did know for certain was that she wasn't going to worry about dinner, she'd cross that bridge in a few hours whenever trays arrived.
Much to Olivia's relief, the pretzel Elliot had bought her was once again a miniature version of what the shop normally sold. And, proving once again just how well he knew her, he'd also gotten her something to use as a dip. Unlike the smooth cheddar sauce she'd had previously, today Elliot had selected a plain cream cheese, and Olivia couldn't have been happier. Tearing off bits of pretzel at a time, she savored each and every bite until nothing but a few flecks of salt remained on the napkin in her lap.
After all the trash had been cleared away, Elliot was able to coax Olivia into playing a few hands of cards. Her mind was still overloaded from everything she'd learned earlier in the afternoon, so her focus was a bit on the limited side, but she welcomed the distraction. As it had been throughout her hospital stay, more complicated card game options were pushed to the side in favor of a basic gin rummy. Even with her limited concentration, Olivia still managed to be quite successful, ultimately winning twice before Elliot claimed defeat and jokingly begged for mercy.
Elliot had just finished clearing the cards away when Olivia's nutritionist, Rene, knocked on the door. Upon entering the room, the woman asked if she could have a seat, and that's when Olivia knew this wasn't going to be one of the typical daily check-ins that she was used to. Even though she was apprehensive about what would happen next, she nodded her permission, and waited.
"Good afternoon, Olivia. I wanted to stop in and let you know that I've spoken with Dr. Hamil, and I'm here to get you set up with a plan for outpatient care. Lydia explained to me that if all goes well, you would be discharged, and I didn't want you to feel overwhelmed in any sense in regard to your dietary needs. I know given your situation, managing proper meals can still be a struggle."
Opening the binder that she had brought with her, Rene pulled out a few pages. Not wanting to inundate Olivia entirely, she passed the information to Elliot, while still speaking to the woman sitting to her right.
"These brochures contain everything you'll need to know about maintaining your smoothie regimen once you're back at home. Also included are a list of reputable companies that deliver if you don't want the added pressure of preparing your own. All you'd need to worry about adding in is the protein powder."
Elliot scanned the page briefly, then gave Olivia a reassuring glance.
"Not to worry, Liv. I'll take care of things for now, and we'll get something more permanent in place once you're out of the hospital and settled into a routine."
With her head starting to swim, Olivia managed to nod her agreement. Then, she turned her attention back to Rene, who was beginning to talk about the appetite stimulant that she had only consented to earlier that afternoon in Dr. Hamil's office.
"Lydia and I agreed that for now, it would be best for you to take the supplement three times a day, roughly an hour before each meal. I know that will be a bit difficult to do in the morning for breakfast, but if you take it as soon as you wake up, the time frame should work itself out."
Where it had all seemed perfectly normal before, now the prospect of nudging her appetite along was proving to be almost too much to bear. Still, the logical side of Olivia knew that she had to keep eating if she was ever going to regain her strength. Physical and emotional health went hand in hand, and it was no secret that both of hers had been suffering of late. As though she had intuited Olivia's distress, Rene tried to ease the other woman's anxiety.
"If, for whatever reason, you are uncomfortable with your appetite levels after being on this new stimulant, please speak up. We can always decrease the frequency or even lower the dosage. But for now, your body is still malnourished, and needs the extra nutrients."
While the added reassurance didn't assuage all of Olivia's nerves, it did offer a modicum of relief. Her voice was still going to matter. Despite everything that had happened today, that was one thing she had understood loud and clear, and it meant everything. For so long she had kept silent, too afraid of not only tarnishing her independent reputation, but also for the fear that it would be like screaming in the middle of a crowded room with no one who would listen. As Olivia Benson, it was her job to save victims, to coach the survivors. She didn't know the first thing about being one.
The rest of Rene's visit passed in a blur, and Olivia sincerely hoped that Elliot had been paying attention, because she certainly hadn't been. Her mind now centrally focused on two things – the very real possibility that this would be her last night in the hospital, and the knowledge of what her new reality would become the following week.
Even though they had only ever discussed his disappearance once, that day together on the beach, Olivia was grateful for Elliot's presence. The concept of undertaking this journey on her own was impossible to even think about, and yet again she reminded herself to thank her former Captain for reuniting her with her former partner.
A quiet calm returned again in late afternoon, enough that Olivia felt comfortable asking Elliot to join her on another walk through the halls. There was still a part of her that was filled with a restlessness, and she hoped the exercise would help burn off some of the nervous energy. Just before they had stepped out of the room, April had arrived to give Olivia the first dose of the appetite stimulant. The brunette took the new medication without argument, but couldn't help her brief hesitation. However, there was one positive result from the encounter – with Olivia's discharge all but confirmed for the following day, her doctors had given the all clear for her IV line to be removed. That meant she would also be able to shower before bed tonight, a luxury she hadn't been able to enjoy since the beginning of her hospital stay.
Though it hadn't been her intention to ignore Elliot, Olivia was distracted as they traversed the halls and remained mostly silent. For his part, Elliot took no offense, affording his friend the emotional space she needed while still granting her the comfort of his proximity. After three consecutive loops, the pair made their way back to Olivia's room, only to be greeted by the rumbling sounds of the dinner carts as the employees from the dietary department made their way off the service elevator. The tremble in Olivia's body was a noticeable one, and Elliot hoped that once they were back in the comfort of the cottage, she would no longer view meal times with the same dread she had here.
To Elliot's relief, Olivia had still been ensconced in the safety of the bathroom when their trays were delivered, giving him ample opportunity to intercept them. After deciphering which was which, he promptly began transferring portions of Olivia's dinner to a smaller paper plate. By the time she had emerged to join him at the table, everything was set up and ready.
Olivia's silence continued throughout the evening meal, but at least she was eating. There had been no noticeable change in her appetite, but Elliot hadn't been expecting an immediate miracle. Just like the rest of Olivia's healing process, he knew that things would take time. What mattered was that she was trying again, and after her setback the day before, that meant the world to him.
After they had finished, Olivia and Elliot moved to the love seat. Instead of turning on the television for some mindless entertainment, Elliot chanced to take out his tablet. He was about to ask something of Olivia that he hoped wouldn't be too overwhelming for her – her input in grocery shopping. Even though Don was still staying at the cottage, Elliot didn't want to put the pressure of running errands like that on his former superior. This way, he could place an online order with the store, and hope that asking Don to accept the delivery wouldn't be too great of an imposition.
"If this gets to be too much for you, Liv, let me know, okay? I'm going to be placing an order with the store, and I want your opinion."
Olivia hesitantly gave her consent, though her expression remained wary. She had situated herself in a way that she was comfortable, but didn't have a direct view of the tablet Elliot held in his hands. This way, she was reliant solely upon his questioning. If it became necessary, she could easily shift her gaze, but for now, she preferred not to look.
"We'll start with produce. I know you've really liked that I include fresh fruit with most of your meals. The choices here have been somewhat limited, but what would you say if I were to buy a selection of melon, grapes, and some berries and make a fruit salad out of it all?"
Knowing for certain now that none of the suggestions would be too much for her to bear, Olivia visibly relaxed. That idea sounded wonderful, and she had no problem saying so. The subsequent questions mainly dealt with her preferences, and Elliot had given her one or two options to choose from. For example, did she prefer red or green grapes, sweet or tart apples. After they had narrowed down the selections of fruit, Elliot added several fresh vegetables to the cart before moving on.
Aisle by virtual aisle, Elliot and Olivia made their way through the shelves of the grocery store. By the time they had finished, Elliot knew that the pantry and fridge back at the cottage would be well stocked with everything necessary to make healthy meals. He only hoped that once she was out of the hospital and continued with the new medication, Olivia's appetite would continue to improve. As for keeping up with her daily smoothie intake, Elliot's next step was to enroll her in one of the delivery services recommended by the nutritionist. The necessary protein powder had already been ordered with the groceries, a flavorless variety that could be added in to the combinations of frozen fruits that would be mixed in the blender. Save for additional outpatient visits being scheduled, everything was nearly ready for Olivia to be discharged. Elliot just hoped that all went smoothly tonight and tomorrow so there wouldn't be any additional setbacks. Not only would it devastate Olivia, but he'd be disappointed, too.
Elliot awoke earlier than usual the following morning. As always, the first thing he did once his vision cleared, he sought out Olivia. Relieved to see her sleeping peacefully – a welcome change from the night before – he began gathering up his things so he could use the visitor's bathroom and freshen up for the day. Though he admonished himself for the foolishness of his thinking, there was a part of him that believed that if hurried along with his own morning duties, it would somehow speed up the process, and possibly get Olivia discharged sooner rather than later. It wasn't until just now that Elliot recognized that he was just as nervous about her potential release.
While Elliot stood in front of the mirror, carefully wielding a razor as he groomed his goatee, his thoughts wandered to the events of the previous evening. After they had finished with the grocery shopping, Olivia had been the one to initiate a request for a game of cards. She had been in good spirits as they played, even teasing him when he had lost – again. However, the closer it got to the time she usually went to sleep, the more agitated Olivia became. Although she remained steadfast in her refusal to take anything for the anxiety, she had taken the new prescription of Trazodone without an argument.
The additional medication seemed to have it's intended effect of drowsiness, allowing Olivia to fall asleep more easily than she had the past several nights. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to stay that way for long. Instead of being plagued by memories of her ordeal with William Lewis, Olivia was instead woken repeatedly by bad dreams involving her impending hospital release. One such nightmare detailed her making it as far as the exit only to be stopped by staff and told it was all a mistake, and immediately shuttled back her room.
Following that, Olivia had cried out in her sleep. It had taken some encouragement on his part, but Elliot was gradually able to calm her, and she had even accepted some physical comfort from him. At first, she'd just trembled silently in his arms for endless minutes, fighting an internal battle not to cry. Eventually, the cloud of shame lifted, and Olivia had been able to confess what had upset her so much.
Lost in his thoughts, Elliot accidentally nicked himself right in the tender area of his jaw just below his left ear. Muttering a curse under his breath, he reached for some toilet tissue which he wadded up in his palm. Pressing it against the cut in an attempt to slow the bleeding, he took an honest inventory of his reflection for the first time in days.
His face was haggard and drawn, and dark circles were present under his eyes, a tell tale sign of his recent nights of reduced sleep. Still, Elliot knew he was in no position to complain, because compared to Olivia's schedule, he may as well have been getting the recommended requirement of eight hours a night. He remained hopeful though that once they were back in the relative comfort of the cottage, and once the new medications had a chance to help, more normal sleep patterns might be able to take hold. It was a well known fact that no one ever had any decent rest while in a hospital. The sheer notion that staff even suggested it was laughable.
Pushing his wayward thoughts to the side, Elliot turned his attention to the cut. Satisfied that the bleeding had stopped, he hurried through the rest of his morning routine, not wanting to leave Olivia on her own for very long. It was a great relief to find her still sleeping – albeit fitfully – when he returned to the room a few minutes later. Although he wanted nothing more than to stay by her side, he knew she wouldn't hesitate to admonish him if he were to miss his morning meeting. After taking a moment to jot down a brief note on the pad resting on the bedside table, Elliot left the memo in plain view. Retrieving his tablet, he headed back out, this time making his destination the visitors lounge. Even though he knew Olivia couldn't necessarily hear him, he whispered a promise that when he got back, it would be with a cup of coffee for them both.
Olivia woke during Elliot's absence, and though she berated herself for it, she couldn't help the fleeting feeling of panic when she first became aware that she was alone in the room. That sensation soon abated when she noticed the note that had been left behind, and she realized that Elliot was merely keeping his promise to her to take care of himself. Shifting her focus, Olivia pressed the call button at her bedside, more determined than ever to get an actual shower this morning. Distractions and anxiety had led her to miss the opportunity the night before, and there was no way she was going to tolerate another rinse free bird bath while standing at the sink in her bathroom.
Much to Olivia's relief, within minutes of her asking for assistance, April had appeared. It seemed the aide had already intuited her patient's request, as she had brought in a few fresh towels.
"Good morning, Sergeant. I figured you'd be wanting a real shower today now that the IV line is gone. I just want to check your vitals first, then I'll give you your privacy."
For the first time since her hospitalization, Olivia was anything but reluctant as she opened her mouth and raised her tongue to accept the thermometer, at the same time she extended her arm so her blood pressure could be taken. The faster this process could be completed, the sooner she could be standing under the soothing cascade of warm water the shower would provide.
"All right, Sergeant, you're good to go. Your blood pressure has improved since you were first admitted, but I'm still going to leave the bench in the shower stall as a precaution. If you should feel light headed at any point, please sit down. Also, remember that you can pull the cord on the wall, and someone will come in to assist you."
Despite her displeasure at the reminder, Olivia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She didn't even put up any argument. Instead, she simply thanked April for her help, and as soon as she was alone again, crossed the floor to the closet where her clothes were kept to find something to wear. To her dismay, she was down to her last clean outfit in her bag – a pair of leggings with long sleeved shirt – and Olivia fervently hoped that she would be discharged today so she wouldn't have to endure the humiliation of having to ask Elliot to help her with washing her laundry.
Olivia stepped into the bathroom, resisting the instinct to lock the door behind her. That was something else she couldn't wait to do again once she was back at the cottage, although she had her suspicions that Elliot might also object to locked doors, at least for the first few days. Not that he'd ever deny her privacy, but he would be concerned.
Pushing those thoughts to the side, Olivia shed her clothes, avoiding her reflection in the mirror. After adjusting the water to the ideal temperature, she stepped into the tile stall and pulled the curtain. As she tilted back her head to wet her chestnut tresses, a contented sigh escaped her lips. This was a thousand times better than those shampoo caps she had been using, even if their job had been satisfactory.
Though she could have stayed in the shower for a lot longer, Olivia cut her shower time short, not wanting to incite any worry on her behalf. She turned off the spray, then wrapped her body up in one of the towels. With the other, she scrubbed at her hair until it was mostly dry, then ran her comb through it to rid it of all the tangles. When she was dressed at last, Olivia made her way back out into the main part of the room, relieved that Elliot had not returned in her absence. After depositing her dirty clothes in the designated bag in her closet, she took a seat in the reclining chair, and reached for her tablet. In her opinion, it was still too early to watch anything, but maybe if her concentration held out, she could read a few pages in one of the books she had downloaded.
Olivia was still reading – or trying to – when Elliot returned. Though she hadn't heard his approach, the tantalizing aroma of coffee alerted her to his presence, so she hadn't been startled. Greeting her former partner with her first genuine smile in days, she looked up at him with a hopeful expression.
"I hope one of those is for me."
Pleased to see Olivia so animated this morning, Elliot didn't bother to hide his grin.
"I learned many things during our years together as partners, Liv. The first and foremost being, never tease you when coffee is involved. Of course, one of these is yours."
No sooner had Olivia taken her first sip of the fragrant brew, an orderly appeared in the room with two trays. Apparently she had been so distracted by her reading that she not only had missed Elliot's arrival, but she also hadn't heard the breakfast carts being wheeled down the hall. She wasn't sure quite what to make of that, other than it was a slight positive that she hadn't had the opportunity to get anxious about the impending mealtime, but at the same time, Olivia wasn't able to remember a word of what she had read, either. She supposed she should be grateful for small victories.
It wasn't long before it was just the two of them again, and Elliot made quick work of fixing Olivia's breakfast into more manageable portions. As they sat together at the table eating, neither spoke about the topic that was at the forefront of both of their minds – whether or not Olivia would actually get to go home today. Instead, Elliot filled the silence by talking about an early video call he'd had with Kathleen, one of the reasons it had taken him longer than usual to make their morning coffee run. Everything was fine with his middle daughter, she had just wanted to check in with her father, and had figured that getting in touch with him before she left for work was the best time.
Hearing Elliot talk about his children brought a fresh wave of guilt for Olivia. It reminded her of all that he had lost over the years. Now, instead of reuniting with his family like he should be, Elliot was devoting his time and attention taking care of her. Though she thought she'd done a great job masking her emotions, Olivia's expression was all too easy to read. Elliot reached across the table and rested his hand gently on hers, squeezing once briefly before letting go.
"Don't go there, Liv, and don't blame yourself. I'm exactly where I want to be."
Olivia didn't doubt Elliot's sincerity, but convincing herself of that fact was another matter entirely. As a result, she completely lost her appetite. Fortunately, she was almost finished eating, and only a little bit remained on her plate. It was still distressing for Elliot to see her turn away food, however, no matter how small the amount. But he wasn't going to push the issue. After all, this morning only marked the second dose of the appetite stimulant that Olivia had taken, they couldn't expect the medication to work miracles.
A short while after breakfast, Elliot and Olivia were sitting together on the love seat, absentmindedly watching television. Olivia had been about to make a comment to Elliot about something they had just seen on the screen when not just one, but three people walked through her door. Never before had any of her doctors visited her all at once before, and the prospect of what these people had to say filled her with trepidation. Without even realizing she was doing it, Olivia reached for Elliot's hand and held on for all she was worth as she turned a wary gaze toward Dr. Barnes, Dr. Hamil, and Rene Wilson. Dr. Hamil, picking up on her patient's anxiety, was the first to speak.
"We're sorry for stopping by all of a sudden like this Olivia. Please know it was not our intention to ambush you. But, we've reviewed your latest test results as well as looked over your progress this past week. Based on what we discussed in my office yesterday, we feel comfortable sending you home today. We just need to go over some final instructions before we can begin the discharge process."
Convinced she hadn't heard correctly, Olivia shook her head in disbelief. She could leave? She didn't have to stay in the hospital anymore? Yes, she knew that she was anything but cured, but this small step meant so very much. Even though she had yet to leave, she was determined to do whatever it took to prevent herself from having to come back.
"Tell me everything I need to do."
The process hadn't taken as long as Olivia had expected it might. The instructions themselves were simple enough, not to mention she'd had Elliot by her side to listen in, just in case she forgot any of the details. First and foremost, the important thing to remember was that she continue to take her medication, including the antidepressant that had been previously prescribed by Dr. Lindstrom, in addition to the new ones that had been added during her hospital stay. Secondly – and this was somewhat more difficult – she was to maintain healthy eating practices. Three balanced meals a day, plus three smoothies made with a protein powder. Last but not least, continue her therapy sessions with Lydia, and attend the outpatient program that she had been enrolled in that would begin on Monday.
By the time the three had left, with the promise that they would get the discharge process started, Olivia's head was spinning. If not for Elliot's logical thinking, she wasn't sure what she would have done. Yet again, Olivia found herself grounded by his presence. Turning to face the man standing by her side, she saw the smile on his face and felt the corners of her own mouth turn up in a matching grin.
"I don't want you to worry about anything, Liv. First things first, I'm going to call Don and tell him the great news. Then, I'll help you pack your things. With any luck, we won't have too long of a wait, and we'll be back at the cottage before you know it."
Olivia gnawed on her lower lip for a moment, her hesitation obvious. Then, she let herself ask the question on her mind.
"Do you think you could call Owen, too? Or at the very least have Don let him know? He's been so good to me ever since I got here."
"Of course."
Although Olivia had thought it would be a never ending cycle waiting for the discharge papers to be brought in, the time just flew by. Not that she was complaining, but she had honestly thought she'd be pacing the room in expectation before she'd be allowed to leave. After signing her name so many times that she thought her hand was going to cramp up, and grudgingly being pushed to the hospital exit in a wheelchair, she was free. Elliot waited until she was securely buckled in next to him before turning the key to the ignition and looking at her expectantly.
"Well, Liv? Are you ready? Did you need me to stop anywhere?"
"No. Just take me home."
Olivia ignored the tug in her heart as she said familiar words. It wasn't home – not really. Her home was in a crowded city one hundred and sixty miles away. For now though, the two story structure a block away from the beach where she'd been staying since her arrival in Cape May was the next best thing.
A/N: This chapter took longer to get out than I planned, but I was so close to finishing up my other story, The Longest Relationship, that I wanted to get that completed. Not to mention that sometimes the heavy subject material of this one can sometimes be mentally draining. I find I need to give myself a break from time to time so I can ensure I'm still doing it justice. For now though, unless I am struck by a wave of inspiration, this is my only current WIP. Wonder how long the muse will let it remain an only child?