December 25, 2015

"He's out like a light," Elliot announced before collapsing on the sofa with a sigh.

"Thanks for taking him up," Kathy said, offering him a little smile.

"Pretty soon he's gonna be too big for me to carry. I want to enjoy it while I can."

That was the thing about kids, Elliot thought. They just grew up too damn fast. Maureen was 31, now, and engaged, and the twins and Katie had all three graduated from college, moved out, moved on. Eli was growing like a weed, and this was likely the last Christmas Elliot would be able to carry one of his children up to bed, to tuck them in, watching them sleeping after a day filled with love, with family. He was proud of his kids, so fucking proud of the people they had become, the lives they were building for themselves, but he still missed it, sometimes. Missed the way things were when they were little, missed having a baby to hold.

"It was a good Christmas, don't you think?" Kathy asked him. She was reclining on the opposite end of the couch, her leg propped up and a glass of wine in her hand, her eyes heavy-lidded and sleepy. The older kids had all disappeared, Dickie, Lizzie, and Kathleen off to parties, Maureen and Carl to see his parents, and it was just Elliot and Kathy, now, alone in the Queens house. Right back where they started.

"Yeah, I think so," he agreed.

"Better than Thanksgiving," Kathy added, a little darkly, and he couldn't disagree. They'd decided to divorce at Thanksgiving. Anything would've been better than that.

The older kids had taken the news in stride - it wasn't the first time their parents had separated, and by their reactions Elliot got the sense they'd all been expecting it, somehow. Like despite Elliot and Kathy's best efforts the kids had always known they were just pretending. The only surprise was how long it had taken. Eli was harder to read, but so much was changing in his life and he was too young, still, to make much sense of it. Kathy had made an appointment for him with a children's therapist after the new year, just to make sure he was ok. Time will tell, Elliot thought.

"So, what's next for you?" he asked Kathy. They were still married on paper, but wouldn't be for long, and he spoke to her not as his wife, but as his friend. Maybe they could still have that, at least. Maybe they could still be friends.

"I'm gonna stay here," she said. "There's plenty of room for me and Eli, and Maureen could use some help keeping the place up. I can't work any time soon," she gestured to her leg, "but I'll put some resumes out in a few months. It'd be good if I could them out with expenses."

"That'll be good," Elliot agreed.

It seemed like a solid plan; Kathy would have Mo and Carl to help her while she healed, and she wouldn't have to handle Eli all by herself. And Maureen was already making noises about having babies; if she did, she'd probably be grateful to have her mom on hand, at least for the first few months. Neither one of them had ever liked to be alone; Maureen and Kathy both were happiest in a full house, with mouths to feed and people to look after. The house was damn near paid off, and there was no sense in Mo and Carl sinking their savings into a new place, not unless they really wanted to.

"What about you?" Kathy asked. "When are you going back to Omaha?"

"I'm not," Elliot answered quietly.

He hadn't told her yet. Hadn't told her about the night when she told him to leave, the night he went to Liv's place and found it empty, the night all his dreams were shattered, but she was bound to find out eventually; he was looking for apartments in the city, and they'd be sharing custody of Eli. She'd know soon enough that he wasn't leaving the city.

"What?" Kathy asked, confused. "What about Olivia?"

"Liv's gone," he said thickly. "She…someone found out who she was, and the Marshals moved her. I don't know where she is now. I don't know if I'll ever know."

"Jesus," Kathy murmured. She took a long, thoughtful drink of wine, and then cocked her head at him. "You're really not gonna track her down?" she asked, like she assumed he would, like she didn't believe he'd let Liv go that easy.

"I can't," he said. She doesn't want me to. "I…I make things dangerous for her. As long as I'm around there's a risk someone may find out who she is. I put her in danger in Omaha. I shouldn't have done it then, and I'm not gonna do it now."

It was his fault Paul had uncovered the truth in the first place; it was Elliot's fault that Olivia had faced off with an armed murderer in her own kitchen. Jackie told him if he really loved Liv he'd stay away, and she was right about that. Turns out Jackie had been right about a lot of things.

"I'm sorry," Kathy said. "That's…that's tragic, El. You threw everything away for her and you lost her anyway."

"That's not what happened," he reminded her. He really, really didn't want to fight about this again, but he couldn't let it go; he hadn't left Kathy for Liv. He'd left Kathy for her own sake, for the sake of their kids. He'd left Kathy because he was tired of pretending, and he knew she was, too.

"Whatever you say," Kathy hummed. "But if you're not going back to Omaha, does that mean you're staying in the city?"

"Yeah. I'm looking for a place, and I've called some old friends on the job."

They might not take him back, Elliot knew. A jacket like his, they might not want him on the force. It was worth a shot, though, and even if the NYPD turned him down, he'd be all right. He had his pension, the money he'd saved up doing the private security work. Maybe he could get a gig teaching at the academy, or maybe he could call Buck, get his old job back. Whatever happened, he'd be all right.

"I'm glad you're staying here," Kathy said. "For Eli's sake."

"Yeah," Elliot said. "Me, too."

There was that, at least. He'd lost Liv, lost his marriage, didn't know where his life was headed or what was going to happen next, but at least he could be there for his kids. For maybe the first time, he could put his children first. His life wasn't over; in many ways it was starting again, in the place where it all began. On Christmas, in Queens, with Kathy.

Home sweet home, he thought.


January 7, 2016

"Thank you," Olivia said as she sat down, carefully arranging Noah on her lap. "For letting me bring him, I mean. We haven't been in Albuquerque for very long, and I still don't have childcare."

"Oh, it's no bother," Dr. Holland told her with a cheery wave of her hand. "He won't be a problem at all. What's his name?"

"Henry," Olivia said. In New Mexico she was Natalie, and Noah was Henry. It was too bad, really; she thought Gabe suited him better.

"Well, it's nice to meet you both," Dr. Holland said. "Why don't we get started? What brings you in, Natalie?"

Olivia sighed, caught Noah's little hands in her own, and tried not to cry. It had seemed like such a good idea, when she made the appointment, seemed like such an obvious choice, but now that she was faced with the prospect of going through with it all she wanted to do was run. Run away from this place, and the guilt and the sorrow and the grief that haunted her.

"Natalie?"

"I just…I just think I need someone to talk to," Olivia said in a trembling voice. "I don't…I don't really have anybody."

"You said you just moved here," the therapist mused, leaning back in her chair and taking some notes on the yellow legal pad she held balanced on her knees. "What brought that on?"

"Some things happened back home," Olivia answered, trying to be truthful and careful at the same time. "It wasn't safe for me to stay. I had to go. And I can't talk to my old friends."

Probably that made it sound like she'd gotten mixed up in drugs, or something, like her friends were dangerous, and it wasn't really true but it was close enough to make no difference.

"I needed to start over."

"This is a good place for it," Dr. Holland said kindly. "But it's lonely, isn't it?"

"Very." Olivia felt a little pathetic, sitting there telling a therapist how lonely she was, but what else could she do? She had no friends here, and no interest in making them, not after Paul, but she wasn't sure she'd survive with no one else to talk to. Especially now.

"Especially now," she forced herself to say. "I'm…I'm pregnant. I found out just before Christmas."

"Is that something you're happy about?"

"Yes," she said quietly, and then, "no. I mean, I...I want to be happy. I love my baby so much, already."

And she did, loved her baby fiercely, loved him the same way she loved Noah, the same way she loved Elliot, loved him with all of herself, and no hesitation.

"But?"

"But I'm scared," Olivia forced herself to say.

"Where's the baby's father?" It was the right question to ask, and made Olivia relax, just a little. At least she appeared to have found a halfway-competent therapist.

"A long way away," she said, because the truth was she didn't know, didn't know if Elliot was still in Omaha, trying to find her, or if he'd given up and gone home. "He's married. They've got kids. He told me he'd leave her for me, but…"

"They never do, you know," Dr. Holland said wryly.

"No, he would've," Olivia insisted, trying not to let the therapist see how offensive she found the insinuation. "He wanted to. He was ready to leave her. I wasn't ready to let him. I didn't…I didn't want to break up his family."

"That's admirable, Natalie."

Is it? Olivia wondered. Was it noble, her sacrifice, or had she just done it because she was scared?

"He was ready to go, but I backed out. I just…I just left him. Without a word. And now I'm pregnant, and I don't know how to reach him, and I probably shouldn't try anyway."

"Do you think he has a right to know about his child?" Dr. Holland asked in a tone of voice that seemed to indicate that she'd already made up her mind no matter how hard she tried to appear neutral on the subject.

Under any other circumstances, Olivia would've agreed with her. Of course, he had a right to know. Of course Elliot, who Olivia loved as she had never loved another man - and never would - Elliot who loved his children as fiercely as she loved her own, Elliot who was the best father she ever could have imagined for her children, deserved to know the truth.

But.

There was always a goddamn but. Elliot deserved to know, but he could not be with her, no matter what he said. Sure, if they got married the Marshals would have to protect him, too, but Olivia could not allow him to abandon five of his children for the sake of one. If he came to Albuquerque he would have to stay, and never see his family again. Not just his kids, but his mother, his siblings, aunts and uncles, cousins. Eli would grow up fatherless, and Elliot would never hold his grandchildren.

The truth was Elliot had more to lose than she did, and she could not ask him to make this sacrifice for her sake. They had been doomed, from the very first, and she'd known it. She just hadn't wanted to accept it.

And she couldn't explain any of that to the therapist.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

"He does," she said. "But he'll be better off if he doesn't know. His family will be better off. And…my kids and I will be better off without him, too."

My kids. There were two of them now, or would be soon. It was early days yet, and Olivia was older than most first time mothers, she knew there was still a chance she could lose this child before she ever held him in her arms, but he had already become a fixture in her thoughts, her plans for the future. Olivia had to protect her babies, both of them, and that meant she could not repeat the mistakes she'd made in Omaha. For their sake she would have to be stronger, braver, better. It was selfish, the longing she felt for Elliot; she wanted him by her side, wanted their little family whole, but those wants counted for nothing weighed against her children's lives.

"It sounds like you've made up your mind."

"I have."

"And you've got pretty good reasons for that."

"I do."

"Ok, then," Dr. Holland said. "So the question is - what are you going to do next, Natalie?"

Noah was wriggling around; Olivia set him on the floor, watched him toddle off on unsteady legs to examine the bookshelves in the therapist's office. There was nothing breakable within his reach, so Olivia let him explore, one of her hands settling reflexively on her still-flat belly, above the place where her baby was nestled, safe and warm and ignorant of the sorrow that waited for him out in the world.

What are you going to do next?

She'd already told the Marshals about the baby; they'd want her to start looking for a job, but there was no point when she was going to have to go on leave again in just a few months. The Marshals weren't happy about her news, but mercifully none of them asked where the baby had come from, and they'd told her they'd take care of her until the baby was six months old. She had a little more than a year to spend with Noah, to look after him herself and not send him to daycare. She could take him to the library, to the park. Maybe go to church; not the Methodists, though, not after Paul. Not the Catholics, either; she couldn't set foot inside a Catholic church without thinking about Elliot. But it might be nice, still. A way to meet people, a place for Noah to interact with other children. And then the baby would come, and she'd have to find a job. There were a lot of questions still to answer, but she had time. She had time to figure it out.

"I'm going to live," she said. There was nothing else for her to do, now. No great crusade, no earth-shattering love; there was only life, and one last chance to try to get it right.