"You know what I learned after you left, Elliot?"
They've been on the roof, in the thick of it for what feels like hours now, when it's been a matter of minutes. What started as anger over his manhandling of a suspect in Interrogation under her watch again has now devolved into something much more personal. He escalated instead of backing down, ignoring rank, and they've been in a full-out screaming match over policies and procedures, over how it's done now, lots of you can'ts and if you evers spewing from her mouth.
He's sarcastic, ridiculous, blasting her for pulling rank and goading her to write him up. He sounds like a part of The Brotherhood right now, only no one else is on this roof with them; he doesn't need to act the part of a dirty cop. She shivers, thinking that maybe, once again, Elliot lost himself to another undercover operation. She knows she's wrong, that he's spent the last few months trying to be a better man than his father was on the job, and that it's all misplaced rage. It's his guilt and fear and anger rising to the surface, and she knows this, only she isn't going to back down this time. The pity party is over. They had been doing better, but only because they were tiptoeing around everything and not really delving into the darkness of the past decade. There was so much hurt and anger lurking in the shadows that they ignored to paint the picture of a growing friendship. Wanting to move forward and needing to revisit the past were at war, and now they were on the battlefield.
"Let me guess, Liv, you learned that Ed Tucker, my only enemy in the entire fucking department, was a great lay."
"Oh, fuck you, Elliot! Are you seriously going to judge my choices while you were galavanting around Italy and I didn't have a clue whether you were alive or dead? Go fuck yourself."
She storms off towards the door, and he's on her, whipping her arm around to face him.
"No, Liv, no running. C'mon, what were you gonna say? What did you learn?" He's challenging her, the edge in his voice reminiscent of a lifetime ago, when they would disagree and the bully and bluster would rise to the surface. Venomous, biting, stinging words that would usually smooth over with a nap in the cribs or a shitty cup of coffee and a shoulder bump.
Not today.
She doesn't want to cry, she's furious and wants to punch him, but her eyes are waterfalls and her cheeks are soaked, and her voice comes out as the sob she's been holding back since he brought up Ed.
"Fine. I learned that it will never be enough. That I could give everything of myself, my love, my friendship, my life to this job, and it will never be enough. Everyone leaves, or dies, or disappoints. None of it fucking matters, so why bother trying?" She's screaming and sobbing, and it's the loudest she's been with him since she yelled at him in Interrogation when he first returned a year ago. "After 54 years, I can count on one hand the people that I know I can trust. Isn't that a shame? And before you ask, you are not on the list." She wrestles her arm from his grip and continues her stomp to the door.
He doesn't chase after her, lets her walk off, feeling the proverbial slap in the face that he deserves. When her hand reaches the door, he's quiet but firm. "You are always enough."
"Oh yeah?" She's still facing the door, unable to meet his gaze. "Then why doesn't anyone stick around? Ed was the only one to put me first, and I fucked that up. But he got married pretty quickly after I broke it off, so I was probably just a placeholder anyway."
"You've always deserved the world, Liv. Always deserved better than me, better than any man could give you."
"So you walked away. You knew Elliot, you knew I had issues with abandonment and not a goddamn word in ten years. And now I'm supposed to forgive and forget?"
"Liv,"
"'What we had was never real', that I remember crystal fucking clear."
Now he grabs her again, both arms on her, pushing her back to the door, and she gasps in surprise. His eyes are hooded, delicate, fierce, and his voice a rough whisper as he pins her to him, forehead to forehead. "What we had was everything. It's all I've thought about for ten years."
She's not resisting, melting into his touch, anger still bubbling, but there's gratefulness underneath. Ripping off the bandaid and getting to what's festering underneath. "So, why did you leave, Elliot? Why did you fuck me for the first time after twelve years and then abandon me?"
"I didn't fuck you. I made love to you, Olivia." His breath is warm, fluttering against her eyelids, begging her to look at him, to really look at him and see his truth. " I wanted it all. I saw it all. You and me, a parallel universe."
She scoffs at this, and he draws her back in. "Liv, I was so physically and mentally obliterated after Jenna. I couldn't let you pick up my pieces, and I knew you wouldn't have let me walk away from my marriage. You would have always seen yourself as a homewrecker, even though I did that all on my own. I never wanted to walk away forever."
"But that's what happened."
"Yeah, that's what happened." He's resigned, careful, taking a piece of her hair and twirling it beneath his fingers. "I still have so many things to tell you, Liv. Please let me?"
She stares at him, and it's Elliot. Her Elliot: her partner, her best friend, her one-time lover on a night where they searched for forgiveness and healing in a passion-filled haze.
The man she's been in love with, the man she's waited for.
"El," she whispers, and his nickname is enough. They are clawing, gripping, searching for the remnants of themselves in their embrace. Lips finding atonement, mouths claiming ownership of each other's souls. They murmur I love yous and I'm sorrys in between breathy kisses, hands reaching feverishly, lifelines retethered.