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.
The following morning, Olivia awoke, a greater feeling of anxiety than what she was accustomed to in the pit of her stomach. Despite her fears from the night before about the medication change, taking the melatonin had proven to be beneficial. Either that or Elliot's presence beside her was more helpful than she realized. Olivia felt restless, but not to the point that she was prompted to cancel her cooking lesson with Owen today. If anything, she welcomed the distraction it would bring – anything to get her mind off the anniversary that was looming over her.
Not wanting to disturb Elliot, knowing her partner needed sleep just as much as she did – especially in the wake of his own recent ordeal this week – Olivia lay quietly next to him as she let herself reflect on the events of the previous night. The memory of Elliot going above and beyond to make her a dinner he'd known she would truly enjoy had touched her heart, and even though she had been plenty capable of offering help in the kitchen, it had felt nice to be taken care of.
"Care to voice some of those loud thoughts in your head?"
Olivia startled, then felt her cheeks flush at having been called out.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't. It was almost as if I could tell you weren't sleeping peacefully anymore. Call it a sixth sense or whatever you want, but I thought maybe you needed me, needed to talk?"
In an attempt to not only get the attention off of herself, but also deflect with humor, Olivia tried desperately to think of a response. As soon as the words left her lips, however, she regretted them.
"Um, what about calling it creepy? Seriously, El? You could sense that I wasn't sleeping?"
All too late, Olivia remembered the many times she and Elliot were sent to the crib together to catch some shut eye on those cases that seemed to last forever. Even in the early days of their partnership, they always had an innate understanding of one another, knowing almost instinctively whether their counterpart were asleep or awake – and what exactly was troubling them. Of course that unique gift would have only enhanced now that they were sharing a bed and so keenly aware of each other's personal space.
"Elliot -"
"It's okay, Liv. I know."
Absolving her before she could even form an apology, Elliot extended a hand in her direction, which Olivia didn't hesitate to cling to. It was times like this she was grateful for their relationship, when words weren't necessary to communicate.
"How did you sleep?"
"Better than I expected. Not sure I'll be able to say the same in a day or two, but I'll deal with that when the time comes."
Seeing the troubled look in Olivia's eyes, Elliot shifted ever so slightly, moving his arm out across her pillow in an open invitation. She accepted it readily, moving closer to rest her head against his chest. Within seconds, she was enveloped in the safety of her partner's embrace, and for the first time since she'd woken that morning, Olivia could breathe easily.
"Did you want to go for a walk today? Get some fresh air?"
"I'd like that. You're still going to be here when Owen gives me my cooking lesson later, right?"
"There's nowhere else I'd rather be."
Reaching for his phone, Elliot glanced briefly at the time, before coming to a decision.
"My appointment isn't until nine this morning, and even though it may feel later, it's only a little before seven. As much as I'd love to have you there, I don't want you to feel obligated to come with me if you need to take time for yourself. I know you're dealing with some things, too."
"Nonsense. Like I told you yesterday, I'm not letting you get out of this. Not that I don't trust you, but just like you did for me, I'm going to make sure you actually get there. Support is everything, especially for that first session with a new therapist."
Unable to find the right words, Elliot could only nod. Thankfully, Olivia came to his rescue yet again.
"I thought maybe we could just take our time here, have a leisurely breakfast with some coffee – so you won't feel rushed – and then maybe stop at one of the local parks and do our walk there on the way back? It would be a nice change of scenery, and something a bit less intense than the gym. I don't think I'm ready for that two days in a row."
"I like the way you think."
They lay there, on their sides facing one another, for several minutes. Both were content in the silence, and felt a sense of calm in the closeness they shared with one another. Eventually it was Elliot who spoke yet again, curious as to what the next step would be.
"Did you want to shower first, Liv? I can get started on breakfast while you do."
Olivia pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she considered the offer. While part of her wanted to help, it was also hard to turn down her usual routine. Plus as soon as Elliot had mentioned cooking, an idea had popped in her head that just wouldn't leave her alone.
"As long as you don't mind taking on sole kitchen duty. I know I owe you one."
"Don't worry about it. You're going to be getting plenty of time in the kitchen later. Any requests, or shall it be solely up to the discretion of the chef?"
Unable to contain her smile, Olivia grinned back at her parnter.
"Both, actually. I can't stop thinking about those pancakes you had yesterday. Something like that sounds amazing this morning, but I'm leaving the creativity completely in your hands as to what type to make."
"You've got it. I'll see you in the kitchen whenever you're ready."
Leaning over to press a kiss to Olivia's forehead, Elliot tossed his blankets off and got out of the bed. With a final glance over his shoulder, he padded out of the room and went on his way, whistling a tune as he headed down the stairs.
When she was ready for the day, Olivia let her nose lead her downstairs. The smell of freshly brewed coffee was easy to recognize, but there was something else that she couldn't quite identify. Despite her request, it didn't seem as though Elliot had made traditional pancakes – the scent in the air was sweeter – and Olivia couldn't wait to find out just what type of surprise her partner had in store for her.
Walking into the kitchen, she found Elliot at the stove with his back to her, flipping something on the griddle. Upon her approach, he greeted her without turning, super focused on the task in front of him.
"Hey, Liv. Breakfast is almost ready. I hope you don't mind, but I took a guess on the timing and got the pancakes cooking. As soon as we're done eating, I'll jump in the shower, and then we can head out."
"Relax, El. There is no need to rush. We still have plenty of time. I know it seems like you've got everything under control over there, but can I at least help with pouring the coffee?"
"That would be great."
As was always the way when they worked together – even when undertaking separate duties – the partners found a way to meet in the middle. Just as Olivia had placed two steaming mugs of coffee on the table and was about to take her seat, Elliot was joining her, a plate in each hand. Now that she finally had a chance to look at exactly what he had been making, Olivia couldn't believe her eyes.
"Elliot, this looks incredible! When I asked for pancakes, I had no idea you'd make something as elaborate as this! What are they called?"
"These are Cannoli pancakes. The same flour, baking powder, eggs, and milk that go in traditional pancakes made from scratch, but with the addition of ricotta, powdered sugar, cinnamon, orange zest, plus a mixture of miniature chocolate chips and chopped pistachios. It seemed as though they would pair well with fruit, so I thought it would be a great way to use up those fresh raspberries we still had in the fridge."
Unable to resist any longer, Olivia cut into the stack on her plate with her fork and took a bite. The taste was even better than she could have imagined.
"El, this is amazing! I swear you're trying to spoil me!"
"Nothing wrong with that, Liv. All I need is for you to let me."
Olivia felt her cheeks flush, but she couldn't find a solid argument to refute what her partner had said. Nodding her agreement, she focused her attention back on the delicious food in front of her. Now that she knew what the ingredients were, she could easily taste the ricotta. Combined with the powdered sugar and chocolate chips, it gave the pancakes a subtly sweet flavor that was just right. In addition, it provided a light, airy quality that made it seem as though she were eating a delicate pastry as opposed to a more traditional breakfast item.
Having eaten heartily, Olivia couldn't help but feel mildly guilty when Elliot apologized for not having made a larger batch. She was quick to absolve him, insisting that she had eaten plenty, and they could always repeat the recipe again sometime soon – but together. Not wanting him to be late for his appointment, she informed her partner she would shoulder the task of cleanup while he got ready. Relieved when Elliot accepted her offer, Olivia shooed him up the stairs and went about her work.
A short while later, they were on their way. Ever mindful of Elliot's mental state, Olivia had made sure he was okay to drive. Aside from a minor case of the nerves, he assured her that he was – but extremely grateful for her company. Fortunately, the drive to Dr. Pearce's office wasn't a difficult one, as she was located in the same building as Lydia. Elliot joked that they were becoming so accustomed to that particular location, that his SUV could find it without him operating the vehicle. As little as a few weeks ago, Olivia knew she would have taken a comment like that one to heart, but today she was able to laugh with her partner, and wholeheartedly agree that he was right.
After parking, Elliot found that his nerves were catching up to him, and he instinctively reached for Olivia's hand in attempt to reassure both her and himself. The unwavering support from his partner was immediate.
"You've got this, El. Just remember to talk to her like you talk to me. Don't hold back."
"Thanks, Liv."
Thankfully, Elliot was the first appointment of the day, so the time spent in the waiting room was not an agonizing one. In fact, he would go so far as to say that he was being called back before he was quite ready – but he knew he couldn't avoid it forever. He had been wanting this, and it was time to face up to the things he had kept buried for far too long.
The room Elliot was eventually settled in didn't resemble Lydia's office in any way, but he wasn't trying to make comparisons. It was, however, comfortable enough in its own right. A small sofa along one wall faced an armchair along the opposite, and there was a desk in the corner of the room that while cluttered, still held some semblance of organization to it. As for Dr. Pearce herself, Elliot was willing to place her at around his own age. Her brown eyes, dark hair, and compassionate expression reminded him in a way of Olivia, and he immediately felt at ease. Nothing against any of his daughters, but a part of him had feared that his psychiatrist would be blonde, and resemble his ex wife, thus causing him to clam up even more.
"Please, be seated. I can assure you we won't get into anything too heavy today, think of this as more of a 'getting to know you' type of meeting. This is not only for your benefit, but for mine as well. It will allow us the opportunity to see what our communication styles are, and will help me determine the best way to move forward with your treatment with future sessions. How does that sound?"
"I like that. I much prefer the informal setting, anyway."
After getting introductions out of the way and learning what they each preferred to be addressed by – Elliot chose to be called by his first name, and in a similar fashion, learned that he could refer to Dr. Pearce by Lauren, much as he and Olivia did with Lydia. The next step was also fairly basic, and mostly involved his listening skills.
"From what Lydia sent me when she messaged me asking me to take you on as a patient, I understand that you have a fairly recent history with alcohol dependency. Is that correct?"
"Yes. I've been sober for a little over two and a half years, but not without some recent temptations. I go to meetings when I can, but I know I need more of a support system than that."
Nodding, Lauren made a note on the yellow legal pad in her lap.
"I was also told that you have served in the military and spent several years employed with the NYPD."
"That's right. I joined the Marines right out of high school, and was overseas during Desert Storm. While it has taken me a long time to admit it, a lot of what I saw over there still affects me to this day. Also, during my time as a police officer, most of those years were spent as a Detective with the Special Victims Unit. It was as a result of something that happened on the job – a need to use deadly force – that prompted me to step away. That same incident also precipitated my drinking."
Another nod, another note – but not one hint of judgment, for which Elliot was relieved.
"If you don't mind my asking, what brought you to Cape May?"
"I came to check on a friend – a woman who was my partner for thirteen years while in SVU. I didn't know it at the time when I arrived, but she had been through something incredibly traumatic. I ended up staying to help her. We've had our share of ups and downs as we try to repair our relationship, but it's safe to say that we've been healing together."
The more Elliot talked about Olivia, the more comfortable he became. In fact, it was easier to talk about his partner and the way he had found a sense of purpose in his life again by helping her than it was to focus on his own problems. In a similar fashion, his tale soon segued to the topic of his children – the one other area of his life where he still harbored a great deal of guilt regarding the paths he had chosen. The words just kept pouring out, and it wasn't until Elliot paused for a moment to breathe that Lauren dared to interrupt.
"Let me stop you there for a minute, if I may, Elliot. I couldn't help but notice something. You've spoken at length about the guilt you feel regarding your children, and even your partner. I know we've only just met, but you strike me as a man who has taken the weight of the world upon his shoulders. When do you have time to take care of yourself?"
Elliot wasn't sure whether to feel embarrassed for having been called out, or impressed that Lauren had gotten such an accurate read on him so quickly. In his limited experience with psychiatrists, he had often found that it took them ages to figure out his methods and motives, to the point where he was able to hide behind the protective layer he had crafted for himself. It was easy enough to talk about those whom he cared about, his concerns and worries for the people he loved. Opening up about himself and his own issues was another matter entirely. Even though the logical side of Elliot's brain was aware of the root cause for his closed off emotions in that particular regard, he hesitated to voice it out loud this early in the game. It felt a bit like revealing the card that could win it all in a hand of a poker too soon, only to risk losing it all. At the same time, Elliot was well aware that he couldn't just remain silent. In full appreciation for the way he had been treated thus far, he ultimately decided to answer honestly.
"I was raised Irish Catholic. Even from my earliest memories, I always knew I wanted to be nothing like my father. He wasn't a nice man, and that was putting it mildly. When my now ex wife got pregnant in our senior year of high school, I wanted to do the right thing. Of course our parents insisted we marry anyway, but I was determined to be a better father than what I'd had growing up."
Though he hadn't expected to, Elliot went on to reveal even more about his background – his years in the Marines, a bit about what serving active duty during a time of war had been like, and a return home and needing to find a way to support a family after his discharge from the military. Eventually, he had described how he came to be a cop, even though it had never been his intention to follow in his father's footsteps. What he had been determined to do, however, was make the world a safer place for his children. And while not every case had ended in a win, his years at SVU had granted him the ability to feel like he was contributing, up until that fateful day in May three years ago.
Elliot hadn't even been aware of the fact that he was crying. Normally, he'd be uncomfortable showing such an outward display of emotion in front of anyone other than Olivia, but there was something oddly freeing about opening up like this. Plus, he knew that while his partner would gladly listen to him anytime he needed to talk, she had her own burdens to carry right now. It was one of the reasons why he had been so determined to find a psychiatrist of his own. Even if he may not yet be ready to admit he wanted to get better for himself – although he was getting closer to that point – he knew he could say that he wanted to be a better person for Olivia.
"It's good that you're opening up, Elliot. Not only does this help me get to know you better, but in time, this will help lighten the load you carry. I'm not going to tell you that you need to stop taking care of those you care about – I'd never do that – but what I will be here to remind you is not to forget about making yourself a priority."
Wiping his hands across his eyes, Elliot exhaled heavily. It wasn't a sigh of frustration, but rather one of acceptance.
"I can live with that."
Lauren set down the legal pad she had been jotting notes down on throughout the course of the appointment, and instead picked up the tablet that was resting on the table beside her. Pulling up Elliot's electronic chart, she went on to speak as she worked.
"I would like to continue seeing you on a regular basis. How would you feel with starting off with once a week? We can always taper off the frequency if you feel you don't need to come in as often."
"That sounds fine. Do you also offer the option of video sessions? Next week might be difficult for me to make it here in person."
"Not a problem. Let me just get you scheduled."
The process of scheduling, much like it always was with Lydia, was fairly simple and streamlined. Just as Elliot thought he would be cleared to leave, Lauren brought up a topic that stunned him completely, as it involved something that he hadn't even considered – medication.
"At present, I don't see an immediate concern that would require me to prescribe anything, however as we move forward with treatment, I'm going to need you to continue to be completely honest with me. Any changes in mood or anxiety, I want you to let me know. We can always start you on a low level SSRI that will help with both depression and anxiety, and won't have an impact on your alcohol recovery."
Unsure of exactly how to answer, Elliot ultimately agreed to the terms. He was aware that medication had been helping Olivia to function better, and had likewise made a world of difference in Kathleen's life, but he just wasn't sure what place – if any – they had in his. It wasn't that he was against it, it was just hard to wrap his head around, especially since he had just gotten comfortable with the idea of going to therapy for his own benefit. If it came down to it, though, Elliot knew he would find a way to make it work.
Thanking Lauren for her time, and slipping the reminder card for the following week's video session into his pocket, Elliot left the office and headed out to the waiting room in search of Olivia. His brain felt as though it had ingested a plethora of information, and he wasn't quite sure what to do with it all. Out of anyone, he knew his partner would understand.
Finding Olivia sitting in quiet corner, scrolling through her phone, Elliot felt that familiar twinge of guilt for having left her on her own for so long. At the same time, that feeling was accompanied by immense gratitude that he hadn't had to face this first appointment alone today. Deciding to wait until they were back in the safety and privacy of the SUV before discussing anything in detail, he headed over to greet his partner, mindful to make his presence known.
"Hey, Liv."
"Hey, yourself. Ready to get out of here?"
As always, she had read his mind. Extending a hand, Elliot felt the warmth he had been seeking envelop his heart when Olivia's fingers entwined with his and they exited out into the hallway toward the elevators. In no time at all, they were at the vehicle, and of course, she was checking in with him again.
"Did you need me to drive?"
"Only if you wanted to."
As he had spoken, Elliot had playfully extended the keys out in Olivia's direction, a gesture reminiscent of one they had shared on the job so many times. In what was always her standard reply, Olivia swatted his hand, calling him a goofball as she did so. The next step was to make sure they were both on the same page for going to the park to walk, and once they were both buckled in, Elliot turned the wheel in that direction and they were on their way.
Some time later, Elliot and Olivia returned back to the cottage. The walk at the park had proven beneficial for them both – with the abundance of fresh air and change in scenery than what they were accustomed to. In addition, the exercise had allowed for each of them to decompress without overexerting themselves. After taking a few minutes in private to change into something suitable for the cooking lesson that would be happening with Owen later that afternoon, Olivia waited in the kitchen for Elliot to reappear, knowing instinctively that her partner would be asking about her willingness to eat something for lunch. In truth, she wasn't that hungry – her decrease in appetite no doubt a result of the impending anniversary that was looming on the horizon – but she wasn't going to make the mistake of falling back into old habits. However small the portion, she was going to try and consume something, if only to keep herself from getting even sicker.
Olivia's prediction was proven true the second Eliot set foot on the lower level. As soon as he was in the kitchen, he headed straight for the fridge, opening the door to examine the contents. Olivia was impressed he hadn't yet asked her whether or not she were hungry - then again, perhaps the man hadn't wanted to tempt fate, and was simply choosing to take a more proactive approach. After a few moments, he looked over his shoulder.
"How does chicken salad sound, Liv?"
Despite the fact that she didn't quite trust her stomach enough to say whether or not it wanted to be fed or not, Olivia couldn't deny the interest Elliot's question had prompted within her.
"Do you mean the kind you make with the apples, grapes, and pecans?"
Pulling out a few of the necessary ingredients and nudging the door closed with his hip, Elliot set the items in his arms down on the center island. As he went in search of what else he would need in the pantry, he continued to explain.
"Not exactly. We're out of grapes, so I thought maybe I'd make a variation of sorts – keep the apples of course, but perhaps substitute in some cashews in place of the pecans?"
"I think that sounds like a great idea. How can I help?"
In truth, Elliot had planned on allowing his partner to rest, and taking care of the preparations of their simple midday meal all on his own. But there was no way he could turn down her offer of assistance, so he tried to find the least taxing part for her to participate in. It wasn't that he had any doubt in her abilities, but rather a concern of not wanting to pile on too much all at once. With the cooking lesson in just a few hours – and no idea what Owen had in store – he didn't want to make anything too complicated. But they had been spending time in the kitchen together for awhile now, so there was no reason for that to change.
"If you wouldn't mind dicing up the apples? I was thinking of leaving the skin on, give the salad a pop of color?"
Olivia couldn't hide her smile as she moved toward the butcher block to select a knife.
"Look at you, sounding like a chef – or at least someone who watches a lot of Food Network."
"Ha-ha, very funny."
The two partners situated themselves on opposite sides of the island, working in tandem to cut their respective ingredients for the salad they were preparing. As Olivia diced the apples, Elliot was chopping some leftover grilled chicken breast. Though they hadn't spoken about it out loud, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them that whomever finished first would move ahead to make the dressing that would bring the salad together as a whole.
A few minutes later, the two were seated in the comfort of the living room, having abandoned the more formal environment that the dining table provided. Instead, they had curled up on opposite ends of the couch, bowls of chicken salad in their laps. On the coffee table, twin glasses of lemonade rested by the remote, which had been used to start streaming one of their favorite programs.
Though she hadn't eaten as much as she had been accustomed to, Olivia had nonetheless finished her entire bowl, and she was satisfied with the result. Unlike in the more recent past, she didn't feel overwhelmed or any sort of pressure involving food, merely a slightly decreased appetite than normal. The idea had even occurred to her to try and supplement with the protein shakes she used to drink more regularly if things got to be too difficult.
"Liv, did you hear me?"
Belatedly, Olivia realized that Elliot had been talking to her, and her first instinct was to chastise herself for having been so distracted. Her mood soon shifted though, understanding that her partner would never blame her, especially in light of everything that was going on.
"No, El. I'm sorry, I didn't. Can you repeat what you said?"
"I had just asked if you had eaten enough, or if you would like some more chicken salad."
"I'm full for now. It was really good though. I might have some more tomorrow."
With a nod, Elliot wandered out to the kitchen to clean up. He returned a few minutes later, and once he was settled back on the couch, Olivia didn't hesitate to snuggle up against him, craving the comfort that being in close proximity to her partner would give. Resting her head against his chest, she allowed a contented sigh to escape her lips, and as the more dangerous thoughts threatened to keep in, Olivia reminded herself that she was safe.
It hadn't been her intention to fall asleep. The truth of the matter was that between being wrapped in Elliot's comforting embrace, and the soothing sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear, the combined experience had an almost hypnotic effect on Olivia. Before she even realized what was happening, she had drifted off, and it wasn't until she felt Elliot's hand on her shoulder a short time later that she stirred back to consciousness.
"Liv. I'm sorry to bother you, but Owen will be arriving soon, and I figured you would want a few minutes to get yourself together."
Though groggy, Olivia was able to process what her partner was telling her, and she was grateful.
"Thank you. I'm going to run upstairs for a few minutes. Are you sure you don't mind staying with us today?"
Dropping a soft kiss to the crown of Olivia's head, Elliot didn't hesitate to reassure her.
"Of course not. Like I've told you, anything you need, all you have to do is ask. I'd give you the world if I could, Olivia Benson. Keeping you company while you learn to cook will be easy."
Managing a nod and a smile, Olivia made a hasty exit. It wasn't that Eliot's words had embarrassed her, but rather that she was quickly losing what fragile hold she had on her already tender emotions. The last thing she wanted was to start crying now, so soon before Owen was set to arrive. Not that she was ashamed of her tears, but Olivia was afraid that once they started, she wouldn't be able to get them to stop.
Upstairs in the master bath, Olivia splashed some water on her face, then pulled her hair into a ponytail. Confident that her face gave no indication of her tumultuous internal conflict, she padded back downstairs, hoping that Owen would be true to his promise about bringing along some things that would indeed be stress relievers to prepare. If that didn't work, maybe tomorrow would be a good day to take Elliot up on his offer of sparring again.
Olivia hadn't been back on the lower level for long when the sound of a ringing phone captured her attention. Easily recognizing the melody she had assigned to her own device for generic calls, she was about to see who was trying to reach her. One look at Elliot stopped her in her tracks, as her partner informed her it was only a random number with a Manhattan area code. Once she got closer, Olivia glanced at the display and saw that she had missed several attempts at contact from whomever this individual was – and all today.
"Hey, El – can you do me a favor? Could you look this number up for me? I have theories, but I'm afraid of being proven correct."
Immediately concerned, Elliot took the phone from his partner's hand, not missing the way she was trembling ever so slightly. Withdrawing his own cell from his pocket, he opened the internet browser to look up the number in question, his brow furrowing even more when the dots connected.
"Whomever it is, they work at the Ledger."
With a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, Olivia felt as her legs no longer wanted to hold her up and she somewhat collapsed onto the cushions of the couch. Elliot was quick to follow, and while it was obvious he wanted nothing more than to offer comfort, he made no move to touch her. Thankfully, what Olivia wanted most was contact, so she had no problem leaning into him, and once she initiated, Elliot didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her and hold her close.
"What is it, Liv?"
"They did a feature on me last year when Lewis first kidnapped me, once more during the trial, and again after the most recent incident. Of course, since on all those occasions I was not only traumatized, but it was in the middle of an active investigation, I declined comment – Barba was even in my corner – but that didn't matter. You can imagine how skewed the articles were. I'm guessing now that the one year anniversary is approaching, they want to do some kind of follow up."
Elliot was quiet for a moment, considering his next words very carefully.
"And what do you want, Liv?"
"I want to tell them to go fuck themselves."
Having expected exactly that, Elliot pressed a soft kiss to Olivia's temple, and gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze.
"Then we'll do exactly that. If need be, we'll contact – Barba is it? - and get him involved. From what you've told me of SVU's current ADA, I'm sure he'd love nothing more than to chase a few vultures away from harassing you."
Nodding, and feeling more secure with Elliot's support, Olivia managed not to be startled by the knock on the door that occurred a few moments later. Knowing she needed a minute or two to compose herself, Elliot pressed another kiss to his partner's hairline, then went to admit Owen.
"Hey, Elliot. Good to see you. Olivia mentioned you'd be joining us today. Olivia, how are you? Is everything all right?"
Of course, Owen with his ever perceptive nature would have been able to immediately pick up on the fact that Olivia was distressed. His concern was apparent, but just as Elliot always did, he wasn't pressuring her to talk. Maybe that was what made Olivia feel so comfortable. Plus there was something that had been lingering in the back of her mind for some time now that she had been wanting to ask her friend.
"I'll be okay, I promise. But before we get started, would you mind if we all sat down and talked for a bit? I have something I need to ask you."
"Of course. Anytime you need to talk, all you have to do is say the word."
The three sat together in the living room, Owen opting for the chair while Elliot joined Olivia on the couch. It had nothing to do whatsoever with not trusting the other man, but he wanted to provide an additional buffer of both emotional and physical support. At first, no one spoke, then Olivia managed to gather her courage as she ultimately put her thoughts in order.
"Back when we were starting to get to know one another, Owen, you admitted to me that you had heard about what had happened to me. I also remember you saying that you hadn't delved too deep into the internet rabbit holes, and I truly appreciate that. What I was wanting to know is, just how much of a sensation was the story of my abduction here in these parts?"
Understanding the reason behind that particular question, Owen wanted to do whatever he could to provide reassurance.
"I won't lie to you, Olivia. Your case did make the news here, but it wasn't an all-day, every day affair. There was coverage, but it wasn't the continuous type that I expect you might have experienced back in the city. I believe the only reason we got the amount of updates that we did is because during the manhunt for Lewis, the police were uncertain of his whereabouts and wanted to keep those within a certain radius notified."
Olivia nodded her acceptance. There was more she needed to know, but she just wasn't sure how to phrase it. Thankfully, both of these men seemed particularly adept at reading her and anticipating what she was going to ask before she could voice the words.
"I know you're probably worried about unwanted attention, especially this close to the anniversary. I'm not going to say you won't ever be recognized in public, because I don't want to give you false hope. However, I do think that the odds of that happening are fairly low. People in this town tend to mind their own business, so you should be able to exist in a safety net of anonymity, which I know is something you will want. It's likely one of the many reasons Don sent you here in the first place."
Owen was right, of course. Having that affirmed out loud had helped tremendously, though. Unable to contain her sigh of relief, Olivia exhaled heavily, sagging against Elliot.
"Are you sure you still want me to give you a lesson today? I don't mind rescheduling. I'm more than happy to just sit here with you and keep you company if that is what you'd prefer."
"No, I need the distraction. Plus, you promised to teach me some recipes that would be excellent for stress relief. It's either that or I convince Elliot to spar with me again, and I think he'd rather I not beat the shit out of him today."
Even though she had only been joking, Elliot had taken Olivia's statement at face value.
"You know I'd never complain if you did chose to do that, Liv. All you have to do is say the word."
"I know. I'm good for now, but I just might take you up on that offer tomorrow."
"Noted."
Announcing that she was ready for the cooking lesson to begin, Olivia headed toward the kitchen. It was her intention to stop and pick up one of the bags Owen had left by the door on her way, but she was easily intercepted by both men. Shaking her head with amusement, Olivia instead went in search of the apron she used when cooking with Owen, not sure what exactly awaited her today. Relieved that she had already thought ahead and pulled her hair up out of the way, she washed her hands for a second time and stood to wait by the island counter.
"Alright, boss. What's on the menu, today?"
"Very funny. Today, you are going to learn how to bake bread. You can wipe that look of panic off your face, Olivia, I picked a recipe that is easy for beginners. Also, I thought I could work with you and Elliot so you two could make something for your dinner together – how does pistachio crusted salmon with a side of sugar snap peas sound?"
Olivia and Elliot shared a glance and a nod, then looked back at Owen. When they spoke, it was in unison.
"Amazing."
Just as he had promised, it turned out that Owen had been right. The bread recipe had indeed been easy to execute. The most complicated part of the process were the waiting times to allow for the dough to proof before it would be ready to bake. Olivia had to admit she was mildly disappointed that there wasn't much punching or kneading involved, but her friend assured her that the preparation of the salmon that waited them later would allow her every opportunity to alleviate some stress.
Currently, the dough – which Olivia had learned she was making French Bread loaves – was in the middle of its first rise. While they waited, the trio were scouring recipes. Not only were Olivia and Elliot looking for things they wanted to try on their own, but Owen was searching for more adventurous items that he could use for future lessons. Not only was it helping to pass the time, but the distraction was proving useful in keeping Olivia from dwelling on the issues her mind was trying to plague her with.
It had helped earlier when Owen had told her that even though her story had made the news here in Cape May, it hadn't been an all-consuming affair. Likewise, Olivia reminded herself that she had been staying here for some time now, and had yet to be recognized. That didn't mean that the temptation of spending the majority of the next week hiding within the safety of the cottage wasn't an appealing one.
Pulling her thoughts back to the present, Olivia focused on the task at hand. Staring at the screen in front of her, something caught her eye. The recipe looked tasty, but involved a few techniques she wasn't exactly comfortable with.
"What do you think of this one?"
Elliot glanced at it first, quick to give a nod of approval. Then there was Owen, who also agreed, but then took things to another level that Olivia hadn't been expecting – though she wasn't exactly surprised.
"Ham, Cheese, and Spinach Puffs? That would be a great lesson one day. I can even teach you how to make your own puff pastry from scratch as opposed to using the store bought kind."
"Of course you can."
Hoping her restlessness wasn't obvious, Olivia shifted in her seat. It wasn't that she hadn't been enjoying her lesson today, it was just that her mind was running in a thousand different directions all at once. Then again, she easily forgot just how well not only Elliot could read her, but Owen as well. When the latter spoke up, the only other emotion she could feel was relief.
"There is still some time to go before the bread is done with its first proofing. What do you say we get some of the prep work out of the way for the salmon later? How do you feel about taking a mallet in your hand and crushing up the nuts we'll be using as part of the coating?"
Managing the first smile she had in awhile, Olivia allowed some of the tension to leave her body.
"I think that sounds like a great idea."
Quick to offer encouragement, Elliot placed his palm on the back of his partner's neck, giving a gentle squeeze.
"Yeah, Liv, it does. Just like when you let me pound out the chicken when I was the one having a bad day. Don't hold anything back, just pulverize those pistachios to pieces."
With a smirk, Olivia looked at Elliot, one eyebrow arching up. At his questioning gaze, she explained the source of her amusement.
"Never took you for such a fan of alliteration, El. Did you rehearse that?"
Dropping a brief kiss to Olivia's forehead, Elliot insisted that his words were merely a coincidence, and not planned at all. The trio left the table where they had been sitting and headed back into the kitchen, gathering around the center island. Owen measured out some pistachios into a plastic storage bag and made sure it was properly sealed, then lay it flat on the countertop. His next step was to ask Olivia about her preferred instrument of choice – either a rolling pin or the mallet. Feeling like she would have more measure of control with the mallet, Olivia opted for the latter.
The sound was louder than she had anticipated, but nonetheless very satisfying. With every strike of the mallet, she could feel the pistachios yielding to the force behind her swing. It gave Olivia back a sense of power that she hadn't felt as though she'd possessed in a long while – save for the day she had exorcised some of her demons when sparring with Elliot in the living room.
The chore, simple though it was, was completed far sooner than Olivia was ready for it to be. But, they needed some semblance of texture for the pistachio crumbs to be usable. It did, however, make Olivia interested in either another sparring session with Elliot, or finding more opportunities in baking that allowed her to use her hands in this particular manner.
From a distance that sounded as though it were somewhere far away – but in reality was only coming from Owen's phone across the room – a timer went off. That was when Olivia realized that the first proofing period of the bread had lapsed, and it was time for the next step. Turning to her friend, she awaited her next set of instructions. Much to her delight, she was informed that she was to punch down the dough down from where it had risen, and then allow it to rest for fifteen minutes. The opportunity to use her fists again was such a cathartic experience, and Olivia was so grateful that Owen had chosen baking bread as part of the lesson for today.
The resting period passed quickly. Even though Olivia was desperate to escape upstairs to her private bath for a few minutes of reprieve, she willed herself to remain patient. Once the timer had gone off yet again, the bread was one step closer to going in the oven. First, the dough needed to be divided in half and rolled out, then placed on a greased baking sheet that had been dusted with cornmeal. Forever grateful for Elliot's help, Olivia was even more delighted when her partner had taken care of those particular tasks for her. The last thing before the final proofing process was to brush the unbaked loaves down with a mixture of egg and milk. According to Owen, this would help give it a golden brown color while baking.
With another hour to wait, Olivia made her excuses at last and darted upstairs. Alone in the safety of her room, she willed her hands to stop shaking. Taking the time to splash some cold water on her face and hold a cool cloth against the back of her neck, she gradually felt the rising anxiety begin to dissipate. Relieved to have been able to have avoided the impending panic attack, Olivia took a few minutes more to sit on the edge of her bed and focus on her breathing. She wasn't surprised in the least when a gentle knock sounded on the door a few moments later.
"Liv? May I come in?"
"Yeah, El."
Elliot stepped carefully into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He padded over to the bed, sitting next to Olivia without crowding her personal space. Neither spoke right away, but eventually it was Elliot who broke the silence.
"I'm not going to insult your intelligence by asking you if you're okay right now, Olivia. I know you're not. All I need to know from you is whether or not you want me to ask Owen to leave."
Despite her inner turmoil, Olivia felt warmth surround her heart. Of course Elliot would have picked up on her distress, and was wanting to do whatever he could to make it better. But the truth of the matter was, having Owen here was helping. Not that Olivia was afraid to be alone with just her partner, because Elliot was one of her most significant sources of safety. Rather, she was so out of sorts, that being surrounded by as much support as possible was incredibly comforting – even if she couldn't outwardly show it.
"No, El. I just needed a minute. It may not look like it, but having him here is helping – both of you are."
"Okay. That's all I needed to know. Take as long as you want. Did you need me to stay, or would you rather have a few minutes to yourself?"
Opting to have a few minutes alone to gather her thoughts, Olivia said as much. Agreeing immediately, Elliot pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, and told her he'd see her downstairs again whenever she was ready. Then he exited the room as quietly as he'd entered, hoping that his partners decision to remain on her own wouldn't be detrimental to her health.
While not perfect – and there was no way she would be with the dates that were rapidly approaching – Olivia was feeling remarkably more centered after taking some time to herself. After pausing in the bathroom once more to wipe her face down yet again, she headed back downstairs to join the men, not the least bit worried about being asked any questions. True to her prediction, when she reached the lower level, Owen simply greeted her with a smile.
"Perfect timing, Olivia. The second proofing process is nearly complete. The bread is just about ready to be put in the oven. I had Elliot go ahead and preheat it while you were upstairs."
"He's been making me slave away over a hot stove, Liv."
Unable to contain her laughter at Elliot's dramatic attempt to complain, Olivia paused briefly by the fridge. Grabbing herself a bottle of water, she remembered her manners and made sure no one else needed anything before closing the door again. When she was met with a pair of refusals, she uncapped her drink, taking a healthy swallow. Already the hydration was helping her feel better, and Olivia wished she had thought of that particular remedy sooner.
Before Olivia could say anything else, an alarm went off, indicating that the bread was indeed ready to go into the oven. Elliot and Owen both insisted that she should have the honors, so Olivia placed the baking sheet onto the rack, and set the timer for twenty five minutes.
As the pistachios had already been crushed, the next task in terms of preparing the topping for the salmon was to grate the Parmesan cheese. Grabbing the box grater, Olivia was ready to get started on that particular duty when she heard the sound of Elliot clearing his throat. Glancing over her shoulder at her partner, she immediately noticed his impish grin, and waited to see just what he would have to say.
"Are you sure you don't want me to take care of that chore, Liv? If I remember correctly, the last time you used that specific gadget, you nearly required first aid. I believe I had to come to the rescue of not only you, but your knuckles."
"Fuck you, Elliot."
There was no animosity in Olivia's voice. If anything, it had taken everything within her not to chuckle as she had cursed him. Her cheeks were flushed warm – not necessarily with embarrassment, but as a result of the humor stirring within her. Even Owen had fallen victim, as the seemingly contagious laughter had infected him as well. Despite it all, her friend still attempted to come to her defense.
"You're not the only one, Olivia. Many a kitchen injury has occurred as a result of a petulant box grater. I'm surprised they don't come with a warning label. Knuckles simply aren't safe around them."
Not to be outdone, Olivia passed over the wedge of Parmesan and the grater, with a great sweeping gesture.
"Since you're so sure of yourself, Elliot, be my guest. I'll be certain to have the bandages on stand by for you."
"Are you implying that I'm clumsy?"
Olivia shook her head.
"Implying? No. I'm stating it as fact."
Starting on his work, Elliot gestured to the rest of the ingredients on the counter with his head.
"Whenever you're done auditioning for your stand up routine, maybe you can move ahead to another step of the prep work."
"I thought maybe I'd supervise."
Trying to prevent another debate from escalating – even though he knew they weren't really arguing – Owen set Olivia up with something to keep her busy. He then opted to offer some help of his own by tackling the more mundane chore of cleaning and readying the sugar snap peas. As the three worked in tandem, Owen just couldn't resist making an observation.
"I'm impressed that the two of you ever managed to get any work done at all while you were partners. Then again, I can easily see how you would have been formidable opponents to face off against. I've only ever seen your good sides with how you interact with one another, I can't imagine what your version of good cop/bad cop must have looked like."
Olivia and Elliot shared another knowing grin, and it was as though they were having a silent conversation between them as to who would be the one to answer their neighbor. Ultimately, it was Olivia who ceded control to her partner. Not just for her own sake with her lack of being unable to find the right words, but because she was curious as to just what his explanation would entail.
Just how Elliot managed to continue grating the cheese while he talked, Olivia didn't know. Then again, he did have a lot of room to work with, so she supposed that was a contributing factor.
"We've had our moments over the years, don't get me wrong. Our Captain always liked to say we were one of the main reasons for his lack of hair. As much as I hate to admit it, he was probably right on more than one occasion. As devoted as we both were to the job, our loyalty to one another was equally unmatched."
Although a part of her felt like she should somehow contribute or at least supplement what Elliot had said, Olivia was at a loss for words. Thankfully, Owen had understood perfectly.
"That's what every great partnership should be made of. And I don't just mean police officers. It's all about an equal balance. Sounds to me like you had that in spades. Still do, from the looks of it."
Olivia and Elliot both stopped what they were doing to clasp hands for the briefest of moments, both needing the reassurance that simple touch would provide. Before anyone could say anything else, however, the timer went off, indicating that the bread had finished baking and needed to be checked. While startled, Olivia was nonetheless grateful for the reprieve from the more serious turn the conversation had taken, and looked to Owen for her next instructions.
"Okay, we're going to pull the loaves now. If they are done, they will be golden brown in color and sound hollow when we tap them."
The loaves passed both tests beautifully, and were placed on a rack to cool. The temperature on the oven was increased by twenty five degrees, and allowed to preheat to the new setting. While they waited, Olivia pulled the salmon from the fridge, and began to set it up on the baking sheet she had lined with foil earlier and greased. After placing the filet skin side down, she seasoned it with salt and pepper, then covered it with the mixture made from the grated cheese, panko breadcrumbs, and crushed pistachios. When the oven was ready, Olivia put crusted salmon in to bake, and made sure to set the timer so she wouldn't forget.
When the cooking process was halfway complete, Olivia was ready to start on the final portion of dinner – putting the sugar snap peas in some water and bringing them to a boil. The recipe called for only half a cup of liquid, so it wouldn't take long. Once it reached a rolling bubble, she covered it and let it cook for approximately seven minutes. With Elliot's help, the peas were drained, then the remaining ingredients – butter, salt, minced garlic, and some lemon pepper seasoning – were added. Olivia began to set the table, and both she and Elliot attempted to convince Owen to join them so that he, too, could enjoy the completed meal. The man declined, citing that he understood Olivia needed some space after such a busy day, but reassured both partners that they would indeed get together soon.
Once he was certain that everything had been a success, Owen excused himself, leaving Olivia and Elliot on their own. Feeling the most hungry that she had all day, Olivia helped Elliot bring the food over to their place settings, and they sat down to eat together. Another cooking lesson was in the books, and while Olivia was relieved to be done, she was also very grateful for the distraction that had taken up the majority of her afternoon and early evening.
Given all the work Olivia had done throughout the day, it was Elliot who insisted on cleaning up following their evening meal. He was also well aware of the more subtle shift in his partner's mood after Owen had left. While Elliot wouldn't go so far as to say that Olivia had been acting on false pretenses, he would wager that whatever inner strength had been keeping her going throughout the majority of the day, was now rapidly depleting. With the anniversary of the initial abduction only two days away, Elliot was impressed that Olivia had been managing to function at all. Maybe it was the methods of denial and avoidance that were keeping her going for the time being, but he wasn't about to argue with whatever coping mechanisms she chose to employ.
Part of him was tempted to suggest that Olivia try her nightly soak, but something was telling Elliot that the last thing his partner wanted right now was to be on her own – even to indulge in a luxury. She wasn't exactly clinging to him, but she was lingering in his presence, as though his very proximity was a source of comfort. Not wanting to deny her that, Elliot rushed through tidying the kitchen, and as soon as the last item was in the dishwasher, he wiped his hands and crossed the room to where his partner stood waiting, a faraway look in her eye.
"All done, Liv. What do you say we go and rest for a bit, unwind and watch something mindless? It's been a long day."
Elliot had to repeat himself two more times before his voice registered, and even then the nod he received in reply seemed to indicate that he hadn't fully been heard. It was almost as if Olivia were agreeing with what he'd said merely to placate him. Wondering how long she'd been feeling this way, or if this were just a more abrupt shift because it was getting closer to the time they would normally go to bed, and the distractions of the day would be fewer and further between, Elliot bit his tongue to keep from asking for too many details. He knew it wasn't a matter of whether or not Olivia felt comfortable enough to confide in him, but rather, from his own recent experience with a traumatic anniversary, her brain was likely so twisted up in knots that she didn't trust her own ability to form a coherent thought.
Picking up a couple of bottles of water - only so he wouldn't have to move later – Elliot headed into the living room, Olivia tagging behind. He chose his usual spot on the couch and made himself comfortable, feeling a sense of relief when Olivia not only joined him, but immediately snuggled up against him, resting her head against his chest. Wrapping an arm around his partner's shoulders to offer an additional layer of security and protection, Elliot was surprised to hear her speak. He'd almost convinced himself that she was so lost in her own inner turmoil, that it would be awhile before she said anything.
"El? Can you do me a favor?"
"Anything. Whatever you need, Liv, just say the word."
Elliot felt as Olivia moved even closer against him. At first, he thought she might back out of voicing whatever her request might be, because he could sense the hesitation radiating off of her. However, it seemed she only needed a moment to gather her courage.
"Starting tomorrow, and for the next several days, can you double up on the amount of cologne and aftershave you use?"
Briefly confused, realization quickly dawned. Elliot remembered a previous conversation he and Olivia had shared, one in which she had revealed to him how much the familiarity of his scent never failed to ground her. Apparently, in the months following her initial ordeal with Lewis, she had scoured various stores, trying to find a replica of the fragrance that had reminded her so much of the partner who had left her behind. Now that he was once again a permanent fixture in her life, Elliot wanted to whatever he could to provide a source of safety and security. He didn't care what the expense was, or even if it meant that he'd go through an entire bottle of his supply just to get Olivia through the next few days. Whatever it took to keep her on even ground, he would do. Especially when he was already feeling so helpless and unable to offer much in the way of support. Now that there was something tangible he could do, he wasn't going to let her down.
"Of course. In fact, I think I have a spare bottle in one of my bags somewhere. I'll give it to you, so you always have a supply on hand, in case you want to spray it on that sweatshirt of mine that you swear you haven't been stealing."
While his words had been couched in sincerity, Elliot had also hoped they would have the added benefit of making Olivia laugh. His good intentions paid off, earning him a watery chuckle – and just a hint of indignation.
"It's not stealing, it's borrowing."
"My mistake."
"It's all about terminology."
Pressing a kiss to his partner's forehead, Elliot was quick to agree.
"You're absolutely right. So, what do you say? Did you want to watch anything, or would you prefer to just sit here in the quiet?"
"Not that what you've suggested doesn't sound appealing, but I think I'll be better off if we decide to watch something. Otherwise, the silence in my head might get too loud."
Knowing exactly what Olivia was referring to, Elliot reached for the remote.
"You can pick. I promise I won't even complain if you choose something with subtitles."
"As much as I'd love to take advantage of that offer, I'm going to have to pass. I don't even think I have the mental stamina for that tonight. I was leaning toward continuing some of the same series we've been following. Something that doesn't require one hundred percent of my attention, but will also provide an adequate enough distraction."
Scrolling through the on screen menu until she found the travel show they'd been enjoying, Olivia selected the next available episode. Maybe if she allowed herself to dream about the potential of visiting the cities they were learning about, she could forget about the nightmares that would be waiting for her when she closed her eyes later to try and sleep.
One hour turned into two, then three. Before Olivia was fully ready to admit it, fatigue was rapidly setting in. Still wanting to indulge in a relaxing bath before bed, she knew she'd have to go upstairs sooner rather than later. Not even in the mood to satisfy her sweet tooth tonight – her appetite having rapidly diminished as the day wore on – the prospect of having dessert was not something she wanted to consider. There was, however, something else Olivia wanted to ask. It may not be exactly the same as inviting Elliot to join her in the tub, but she wasn't willing to be alone either. Considering he'd already had no issue spending time in her room reading while she took care of her nightly routine, Olivia hoped he wouldn't mind doing so again.
"Hey, El?"
"Yeah?"
"Would it be a problem if you waited in the bedroom while I took my bath tonight, kind of like you did that one other time?"
Olivia was about to rush on and explain, but before she even had a chance, her partner was holding up a hand, halting her words.
"Of course. Don't even worry about how much time you will need. I have some reading to catch up on. Let me lock up and get everything sorted down here, and then I'll go change. I'll meet you in your room in a few minutes, okay?"
Filled with relief, Olivia was quick to agree. Despite the assurances she had been given, she headed upstairs to get her things together, so she wouldn't have to make Elliot wait for very long.
By the time Elliot made it to the master bedroom, Olivia already had tub filling with water. Not only that, but she'd moved everything else she would need into the bathroom ahead of time. As though anticipating that his partner were going to try to rush through her nightly relaxation ritual so as not to inconvenience him, Elliot felt the need to remind her again that it wasn't necessary.
"Olivia, please, don't rush on my account. I'm not going anywhere, and we don't have anything planned for tomorrow. If you need to take a little bit longer to unwind tonight, by all means, do so."
Unable to form a reply, Olivia managed a nod. She still couldn't reconcile with the feeling of guilt that was nagging at her, that somehow she was being a massive inconvenience, but that issue was an ongoing project with Lydia. What she wouldn't let it do was ruin what precious little moments of solace she was guaranteed to have before the storm finally hit.
In lieu of the music she normally chose to listen to, Olivia had instead asked for Elliot to turn the television on on the bedroom. The ambient noise filtering in through the closed door was a constant reminder of her partner's presence, and even with the layer of wood still acting as a barrier between them, Olivia still enjoyed the intimacy of the moment. She hadn't engaged the lock, her trust in Elliot certain enough that he would never betray her privacy, but needing that extra measure of security to know that if she should call out, he'd be able to reach her at a moment's notice.
Not wanting to dwell on such troublesome thoughts, especially so close to attempting to sleep, Olivia instead focused her energy on remembering the happier parts of the day. The cooking lesson with Owen had been another one for the books. If someone had told her that she'd be spending her mandatory time off learning how to bake bread, she'd likely have laughed in their face. But time spent in the kitchen was something Olivia now enjoyed, and even looked forward to. Maybe that had to do more with the fact that she wasn't doing it by herself. All those years living alone, takeout for one had been the easiest and cheapest option. But now, she felt more a part of a unit than ever before. She and Elliot may not be a couple – at least not officially – but their partnership had certainly solidified and evolved beyond anything they had ever known while working together in the field. One thing Olivia knew for certain – Elliot was the sole reason she was maintaining any shred of sanity at the moment. Screaming into the void still sounded like an appealing option, and she may yet consider it in the coming days ahead, but for now, it was her partner's strength that was keeping her on solid ground.
Scrubbing her palms over her face, Olivia resisted the urge to yell at the top of her lungs and sink beneath the water entirely. She wasn't trying to hurt herself – no, it had been awhile since those particular dark thoughts had haunted her mind. Rather, it was the frustration over her inability to keep her mind from running rampant as it was inundated with memories from events that had happened one year ago. This was not the time nor the place to be playing the world's worst game of what-if with herself, but now that she had started on that downward spiral, Olivia was helpless to get out from under it. She knew that a panic attack was rapidly approaching, and unless she did something soon, it was going to happen while she was still in the bath.
Not even sure how she was managing to get all of her limbs to function properly, Olivia yanked on the plug to drain the water from the tub. Briefly, she debated calling for Elliot, as she didn't trust her legs to support her weight should she try to stand. After waging an internal battle with her own modesty, Olivia ultimately decided that any embarrassment she should endure was infinitely better than ending up in an emergency room should she fall and injure herself. Trying her best to keep the rising hysteria out of her voice, she called for the man in the other room.
"Elliot!"
If she weren't such a mess, Olivia is certain she would have laughed at the sounds coming from the other side of the door. She's also convinced that if her partner could have somehow managed to teleport himself to get to her side in a more efficient manner, he would have.
"Liv? What is it? Are you okay?"
"I need your help, and I need you to come in. Word of warning though – I'm still in the tub. I haven't been able to get out, but I feel a nasty panic attack coming on."
Even though he had already been given permission to enter, Elliot still announced his impending presence. More grateful than ever for the slow way that water drained, Olivia was relieved that the majority of her body was still concealed by the bubbles that still surrounded her. A glance over her shoulder to where her partner stood by the door let Olivia know that even that protective measure wasn't necessary, as Elliot had entered the room with his eyes closed, respective of her privacy as always. Once he had been assured of her physical safety – save for the impending emotional distress – he wasn't about to overstep any boundaries.
"You can open your eyes, El."
At her words, Elliot did as he was told, but even then, the only place his gaze ventured was directly into Olivia's own.
"Did you still want to rinse off some of the suds?"
"Yes, please. I hate to ask, but can you help?"
Elliot's expression shifted, evolving from one of concern to that of kindness.
"Of course. Do you feel you might be unsteady on your feet? Would you like to try the same thing we did once before, where I stand in there with you as a support?"
Olivia managed a nod, then watched as Elliot turned his back to her long enough to shed his pajama bottoms and tee shirt, leaving his boxers on. Reading the unspoken instruction in his features, she scooted forward allowing him the space to stand in the tub behind her.
"Do I have your permission to touch you, Liv? Is it all right if I put my hands under your arms to act as an anchor to help you stand?"
"Yes. I think I should be okay to get to my feet, but I am worried I might be a little wobbly."
Together, the two partners worked as one, Elliot allowing Olivia the grace and independence to finish cleaning up after herself while still acting as a support should she need one. Within minutes, Olivia was ready to get out, having rushed through the remainder of her routine, though Elliot made no mention of it.
"Are you okay to stand on your own for a minute, or would you prefer to sit on the edge of the tub?"
"I can stand."
Elliot exited first, paying no heed to the residual moisture that coated his own body as a result of the shower spray. Instead, he grabbed the oversized fluffy towel he knew Olivia loved, and held it out in her direction, keeping his back turned once more. Once he had been assured that she was sufficiently covered, he offered both hands, assisting her out of the tub and onto the mat.
"Did you still need me to stay?"
"Please. There is an extra towel in the closet if you need one."
It hadn't been important, but Elliot knew Olivia wasn't going to let it go. Acquiescing to her suggestion, he dried himself off as well, then slipped back into his clothing, his boxers having been spared from the spray of the water.
"You can turn around now. I'm dressed."
Only when Olivia insisted did Elliot follow the instruction he had been given. The tormented look on her face nearly broke his heart in two, and he longed to wrap his partner in his arms and never let go.
"I'm not going to say something stupid, and ask if you're ready to sleep. I know from my own experience that isn't going to happen anytime soon, not when you're this upset. But, did you want to go lie down for a bit? I can even make you a cup of tea if you'd like."
Olivia declined the offer of tea, but she was quick to accept the idea of any comfort Elliot could give. Truth be told, she was exhausted, but he was right – there was no way sleep was coming for her anytime soon. Avoidance had worked for her for most of the day, but she couldn't put it off any longer. It was time to face the monsters head on. At least she wouldn't be facing them alone.