AN - Well, I thought I had moved on but then Lyricara started Landslide and my Twitter timeline became EO again and I've slowly fell off the cliff. Not sure I'll ever get over these two. This is going to be a few chapters and hopefully makes sense because I have it all planned out in my head and it's beautiful. Thank you to my beta. E, your enthusiasm for this story has me excited to continue. These characters aren't mine, they belong to Dick Wolf, sadly. I'd have a lot of fun if I did own them though. :-)

The story is named after the song by Lewis Capaldi. I heard it and I can't get over it.

0o0o0

She knew that she'd see him again one day. She hadn't heard a word from him in nine years, but had still felt, deep in her gut, that she would run into him again. When she had allowed herself to imagine the possible scenarios, she had always pictured it happening in a coffee shop, their hands bumping into each other as they reached for their cups or the same packet of sugar. Or maybe even standing on a corner, waiting for the light to change. She was certain that hearing her name fall from his lips once again would be a deafening siren, drowning out all of the city cacophony that surrounded her. And then she'd look up and there he'd be. She was never quite sure which of these were rooted in her desire and which arose from her fear. What she didn't expect was for it to be today.

She knows that he's there before she even rounds the corner of the station. Her steps abruptly stop and she is frozen on the sidewalk, not moving, hardly breathing, and-God, she can feel him. There's an immediate electricity running throughout her entire body. He's in front of the station, waiting for her. Waiting for her. She struggles to swallow the lump in her throat and she clutches her stomach, attempting to breathe again, closing her eyes, trying to channel that one damn yoga class she took that encouraged centering yourself. She probably should have taken more than just the one class. Despite repeatedly trying to brace herself for this day, it turns out she is not prepared for it. Part of her had always believed she'd suddenly be overcome with anger, but at this moment she can only feel every single nerve in her body. Over the last few years, there was a small voice that had begun telling her that she was wrong, he'd never be back. She wants to tell that voice that her gut instinct has always been more accurate than her anxiety.

She knows she has to keep walking. She opens her eyes, shakily lets her breath out, and starts moving. She sees him before he sees her. He's sitting on the steps, elbows on his knees, holding a cup of coffee in his hands. She notices that he's slimmer than before and he has more muscle, as if this entire time that he's been gone has been spent in the gym. He's wearing jeans and a navy cotton long sleeved t-shirt. His hair is shorter-and thinner-than she's ever seen it and his cheeks are tinted with five o'clock shadow. He looks a decade older and yet she's never seen him look so calm. His worry lines have dramatically diminished and he looks like he doesn't go without at least seven hours of sleep these days.

She's within ten feet of him when his head jerks up and his gaze is immediately locked with hers. He stands, shoving one hand in his pocket and the other firmly grasping his empty coffee cup to his torso. He sways just a bit on his feet. His eyes drop down and rake back up as he takes in all of her and she feels that old familiar kick in her stomach.

"What are you doing here?" The words slip out of her mouth before she can stop them. He lets out a deep breath and his eyes flick to the ground and quickly back to hers.

"Kathleen's gone," he says, his eyes holding hers.

She feels overwhelmed with his presence and her mind feels cloudy. She gives her head a quick shake to help clear it and her eyes hone in on his.

"What do you mean?" She watches a subtle wave of grief pass over his face and she takes a physical step back. Her pulse picks up speed, her breathing quickens, and panic flutters in her veins as she watches him. "When?"

He breathes in. Heartbreak drapes his entire face now and his shoulders droop, like they are too heavy to carry. His lips tighten as though he has to fight to get the words out, "Two years ago."

"What happened?"

He pulls his hand out of his pocket and seeks out the handrail to steady himself and he lets out a heavy sigh. "Heroin overdose. Her friend found her and...," he clears his throat before briefly closing his eyes, "Too late for Narcan."

She feels her body moving towards him, out of instinct. She pulls him close and she feels tears falling as she settles her arms around his shoulders. Her voice breaks as she speaks, "God, Elliot. I'm so sorry."

His hands are wrapped around her waist and he tightens his hold. As he pulls back, he lets his cheek rest against hers for a brief moment before taking a step backward. There is room to breathe between them once again, but the distance isn't quite as long this time.

"Are you okay?" She immediately chides herself. Of course he's not okay, Olivia. His daughter is dead. But she feels herself mourning for the little girl that she had watched grow up and can't think of anything else to say.

He gives a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes before looking around. "I'm getting there. The first year was rough." His eyes once again find hers. "I'll be doing good and then I see something that reminds me of her and...," his voice breaks and his eyes begin to water. He directs his attention to the ground and she can see that he's trying to compose himself.

Her hand reaches for his shoulder before she can stop. She hasn't been able to stop herself from touching him. "Hey. Let's go get a cup of coffee, huh?" She surprises herself with the request but she's desperate to help alleviate some of the pain that's on his face. For twelve years, she had taken care of him day after day and that hasn't gone away just because he left and she hasn't fully dealt with her feelings about it. Her need to help him has not left.

He glances down at the empty cup in his hand that he has been anxiously squeezing until it has collapsed. She sees a moment of relief on his face. "I could use a refill. Where to?"

She steps to the side of him and begins walking. His footsteps immediately fall into pattern with hers as they make their way down the block.

"Same place as always. Why change a good thing?" As soon as the words leave her mouth, he casts a sidelong glance at her and then continues to walk alongside her, remaining silent the rest of the way.

0o0o0

He's sitting at a small table in the café that he hasn't stepped foot in since he left. It's not as crowded as he's seen before but there are a few people sitting around on laptops and having conversations with friends or coworkers. The sun is shining through the windows and he feels a sense of euphoria at being back with her in a place he knows so well. He watches as she pays for the drinks and steps to the left, waiting for the order to be handed to her. He uses this as his chance to take in her appearance. She's curvier than when he left. Her hair has grown longer and falls in waves. Her face has a few more lines than he remembers, but she still looks like the woman he stared across his desk at for twelve years. He lightens his gaze as she takes both cups, thanks the barista, and makes her way to their table.

"You still take it the same way?" She asks as she places the drink in front of him and slips into the seat across from him.

"Yeah," he smiles. "Thanks."

Silence hangs in the air as they look around the coffee shop, avoiding each other's eyes. He's instantly reminded of the time when she came back from Oregon and they sat in a café, much like this one, waiting for the guy they were looking for to come in. They had awkwardly glanced at each other, not knowing what to say after so long apart and he feels that same awkwardness now, as he watches her send a text on her phone before placing it face down on the table.

He sees her watch him while she takes a sip of her coffee. He watches her swallow and open her mouth before closing it. He knows she's struggling with words. "What happened with Kathleen, Elliot?"

He sighs. "She stopped taking her meds after my mom died." He pauses and sees the apology immediately form on her lips. "They, uh.. they got really close after she got in trouble and was diagnosed. Kathleen took a year off school and moved out to Jersey to stay with her and they built this incredible bond."

A small smile slides across her face. "They were a lot alike."

He begins to play with the cardboard sleeve on his cup before continuing. "Mom got sick about three years ago. It happened so quickly and she was gone before we knew it." He pauses, feeling a wave of emotion at the memory of his mother's passing. "Kathleen took it the hardest, felt like she lost her best friend. She went off her meds and…" He huffs out a breath, "She started using again."

Olivia tilts her head, remaining quiet while he recounts the most painful thing that's ever happened to him.

"We sent her to rehab. A couple of times. She'd get out and stay clean for a month or two but," his voice begins to tremble. Her hand reaches across the table and grabs his, giving a quick encouraging squeeze before he can continue. "Her friend found her with the needle still in her arm. She didn't have a chance."

He notices her eyes fill once again and he removes his hand from hers to rub down his face, trying to stop his own tears.

"I'm so sorry," she says, her eyes showing the anguish she's feeling. "How's Kathy doing?"

He sighs once again. "We divorced about a year after I left." He watches the surprise flit across her face before quickly disappearing. "When I left the squad, I, uh, was a mess. I turned into an even angrier son of a bitch than before, if that's possible. After a year, Kathy had had enough. She asked for a divorce, and this time I gave it to her. She deserved more than what I had ever given her."

"Elliot-"

He interrupts, knowing that she's going to defend his marriage. She had always been more protective of it than he ever was. "After the divorce, I got an apartment in the city and pretty much spent my time angry and drinking. When mom died, I realized how much I had missed. I hadn't spent any meaningful time with the kids in years and they started to resent me."

"I'm sure that's not true."

He smiles, self-deprecatingly. "No, they did. Hell, Kathleen threw it in my face once when we put her back in rehab. She didn't understand why she needed to be sober when I had been a 'dead beat drunk' for so long." He takes a deep breath before continuing. "I started going to therapy and anger management classes. I gave up drinking. I tried to get my family back in order, but it was too late."

"And the rest of the kids?" She asks quietly before taking another sip of coffee. "How are they doing?"

He grins. "Maureen is married to a hedge fund manager and lives in Greenwich."

"Wow."

"I know," he smirks. "Her house is bigger than I could've ever imagined. Dickie ended up joining the Army and he's been in Africa for the last five months doing system analyst work. And Liz-she became a social worker. She lives out in the Midwest and gets too involved in her cases and too attached to the kids." He makes eye contact with her. They both know what it's like to be too devoted to a job and the people who come with it.

"Eli?"

"He just turned fourteen. He stays with me on the weekends and constantly keeps me on my toes. It's been so long since I've been around a teenager, I forgot how much work they are. After losing Kathleen, we've all gotten closer. Maureen took it the hardest, but lately when they're together, it's like old times again. Kathy remarried, his name's Jeff and he's a good guy. The kids love him. After the divorce, she took a nursing position at Bellevue. She's more like her old self than I can remember." He watches a smile flit across her face and he feels that old familiar feeling in his belly. He's always loved when she smiles. "What about you? How have you been?"

She takes a deep breath before talking. "A lot has changed."

He nods. "You have a son."

Her face shows her surprise. He can tell she never anticipated that he'd have any knowledge of her life without him.

"How?" She asks. Her lips begin to form another question, but she stops as realization hits her. "Cragen. I didn't realize you two were in contact."

"Yeah. He, uh… he was a big help when I was struggling with the drinking. He mentioned that you adopted a kid. Tell me about him."

Her entire demeanor changes at the mention of her child. Her face becomes lighter and her eyes fill with affection. "His name is Noah and he's seven. I found him during a case, this beautiful baby boy that had no one, so I fostered him for a few months. And then I adopted him. He's the best thing to ever happen to me."

He's the one reaching for her hand this time. "That's incredible, Liv." He sees something flash in her eyes with the use of her nickname but it quickly disappears. "I always knew you'd be a great mother."

Her eyes dart to the table as she reaches up and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. "Thank you," she says softly.

He pulls his hand back again, reaching for his cup to take a sip of the now lukewarm liquid. He knows the next question is going to push his luck but he can't help but ask. "How's work?"

He watches as she stiffens before speaking. "Elliot, what is this? What are you doing here?"

What a loaded question, he thinks. He's spent months preparing to see her again and he's played this conversation out in his head many times. He feels a sense of apprehension. There was once a time when he knew her better than he knew himself, but as he sits across from her now, he feels he can't get a read on her and it makes him nervous.

"I wanted to see you."

He watches as her eyes narrow a bit and he knows that she's annoyed. "It's been almost ten years, Elliot. You left."

He flinches and immediately tries to hide his reaction to her words. He had left, she's right, but he had always planned to come back. He never meant to stay away this long. Life had gotten away from him and so much had happened. "I guess I just missed…. everything."

Her eyes briefly widened before narrowing again. He hears her phone chirp and watches as she flips it over to check the screen. She lets out a sigh and he knows he only has minutes left, if that.

"You have to get back?"

She nods and begins to gather up her belongings. They both stand at the same time, watching the other. "Can I call you?"

She stops buttoning up her jacket and her eyes search his face. "Elliot…"

"I know. I screwed up, Liv," he scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip. "I know that, okay? Just one phone call. An explanation. It's the least I owe you."

She picks up her cup and lifts her bag to her shoulder. They stand staring at each other for a long moment before she reaches into her bag and pulls something out. "Here. I got a new number."

He reaches over for the card and glances down. Captain Olivia Benson. He feels his heart beat. "Captain?"

"Yeah, well... things change." She offers up as an explanation before walking around the table and meeting him on his side. Her phone chirps again and he notices her eyes watching him before she looks at the door and back.

"If I call you, will you answer?" He asks. He needs her to know that he's desperate to have a longer conversation. He needs to explain to her why he left.

She doesn't say anything. Her eyes dart back and forth between his eyes before she begins to take a step towards the door.

"I'm going to call, Liv. Please." He tries one more time. She pauses her steps and watches him for a moment. Everything in the coffee shop seems to go silent and she remains still, running her eyes across his face.

She doesn't give a verbal answer. Instead, she gives a small nod in response to his request and then she turns and she's out the door before he can say anything else. He lets out a breath he didn't even know that he had been holding. Please answer when I call. He makes his way to the trashcan to throw out his cup. Just please answer.

TBC..