Her lights are off. The curtains are drawn.

She was sent home by her boss despite her protests. Her life mantra of "I'm fine" simply didn't ring true to his ears. Not to mention it was kind of hard to convince him with ruined makeup and the whispers of those that saw her break down after Agent Cooper blew her brains out.

"Those who fight monsters, should make damned sure they don't become one."

She sits alone in her living room, on the sofa with her head in her hands. She combs fingers through short hair that's slowly but surely growing back. She doesn't think she'll cut it again when it does. Thoughts of such trivial things are what she focuses on to keep from crying again. She has a headache from keeping holding on to it all.

Long slender fingers reach for the glass of Chardonnay she's barely touched since making it home two hours ago. She'd stayed at Lauren's apartment until Melinda and her techs rolled her out, her body in a black bag on a gurney. She was completely shocked when the agent pulled the second gun from her back and squeezed the trigger. Cooper was so determined, so driven, so passionate. But that passion turned into obsession and she obviously found herself drowning in it.

Olivia saw much of herself in the younger woman. They were both alone in the world and their coworkers were their families. At the end of the day neither had anyone to hold them, comfort them from the darkness they'd been cloaked in. Her tears at the scene of Lauren's suicide were almost as much for herself as they were for the FBI agent. Olivia had told her that she has too much to lose if she gave in to revenge seeking, but really how true is that?

Mother to no one, wife to no one, a half brother she barely knows, no parents and no current prospects for a love life.

There is something though.

Something has always prevented her from getting as far down as Lauren must have gotten. An inner something she has but doesn't really know the name of. She's grateful for it though, whatever it is.

Still she's sad. Lauren was intelligent, capable and to Olivia seemed strong. And if someone like that can break so irreversibly, how much longer could she see the things she does everyday without succumbing to her own inner demons?

Three soft knocks at the door get her out of head and onto her feet. She doesn't really want to be bothered by anyone and contemplates pretending she isn't home. If it's Lake making another half-assed attempt at consoling her, that's exactly what she'll be doing.

A look through the peephole reveals that it's her partner, back from the Montreal extradition he had with Fin. No doubt he's already heard what's happened.

Olivia doesn't like being emotional around him, doesn't like the idea that it makes her seem weak in his eyes even though she knows he doesn't think that way.

She opens the door letting him in and steps away for him to close it. Though she tries, she can't hide her upset about the young agent's suicide. She wraps her arms around her middle, still attempting to hold in all that's beginning to spill over. Her gaze is on her cream colored carpet for a few seconds before she raises her head to look into his eyes.

She sees her pain reflected back in them, his sorrow for her and something else she doesn't want to name. And that's when the damn breaks. Tears run down her cheeks as he reaches for her. In his arms she gives her emotions permission to come forth, to be released in abundance because she knows if anyone will help put her back together if she breaks again, it's him.

"I'm so sorry," he rasps.

She doesn't have the words to respond so she simply nods. Surrounded by his warmth she takes in the smell of his leather jacket, the fabric softener of the cotton t-shirt he wears and the scent of his cologne. Her face is buried in his chest. In her bare feet he has several inches on her. She's missed him.

A few minutes later he pulls back, moving his hands to her shoulders.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she says, wiping the last remnants of tears from her face.

"I don't believe you."

Olivia closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before letting go.

"It's just been an incredibly long, terrible day."

"Tell me what you need Liv. I can make that tea you like. Are you hungry? We can order take out if you want."

She redirects her eyes to the carpet again. She knows what she needs and it has nothing to do with Earl Grey or The Wok's beef and broccoli. But he can't hold her, they don't do that. Olivia shakes her head no before bringing her eyes back up to his.

"I just need to rest."

She feels him looking her over for the first time since entering her apartment. Olivia dons a gray tank top and navy blue NYPD issued sweat pants pushed up to her knees. Her feet are bare and the makeup is freshly washed from her face. Clearly she didn't plan on leaving her apartment again tonight nor having any visitors.

"Okay," he tells her.

Then he does something he's never done and takes her hand. She raises her eyebrows at him in question but he just gives her a crooked smile that says, "Trust me." And of course she already does.

Elliot leads her to the bedroom. Once there he lets her hand go long enough to lean down over her bed, pulling the covers back.

"In you go," he says, giving her room to slide beneath the sheets.

He sits down on the bed next to her right thigh. Her hands are folded over her stomach as she looks up at him. One of his hands lay at her head while the other rests next to her waist.

"You're not her."

"She was completely alone in the world and her job was all she had," she tells him. "How am I not?"

Elliot takes the hand at her waist and lays it tenderly against her cheek. She closes her eyes, relishing in his touch.

"You have me."

When he removes his hand, she instantly misses it.

"I have you at work Elliot and we won't be partners forever," she points out. "You'll always have Kathy and your kids."

He looks in her eyes with sincerity then says, "What we have extends beyond the job Liv, you're my best friend. I hope I'm not the only one that feels that way."

"You don't have to-

"I'm not just saying that."

Olivia feels tears stinging her eyes again and raises a hand to shield them from his view. When she puts her hand down, her face is embarrassingly wet. She doesn't remember ever crying so much in one day.

Elliot partly lifts her off the bed, pulling her into another hug.

"You're not her," he whispers adamantly.

Him being here with Olivia, in such an intimate setting is making her want for things she can't have. So as much as she doesn't want to, she releases him. When he lets her go, their faces are merely inches apart. He caresses the smooth skin of her cheek, wiping away the tracks of her tears.

"You should go," she manages. "You must be tired from your trip."

He looks at her for a moment, seemingly recognizing the out that she's trying to give him.

"You're right. I am."

He puts more distance between them, sitting upright again before getting up from the bed altogether. She turns away and onto her side, knowing he'll lock the door on his way out so she doesn't have to get up.

It's so quiet she hears it when he clicks off the lamp. The next thing she's expecting to hear is the front door opening then closing shut.

She doesn't.

Olivia feels more than hears when he returns to her bedroom. He toes off his shoes, returning to his position on the bed. She doesn't know what to make of it. Neither of them are the type to have an affair. That's not what this is.

"I've never been alone," he whispers in the darkness. "So I have no idea what it feels like."

"El-

"Please. Let me finish."

He waits two beats before knowing she won't interrupt again.

"I watch you after something horrific like this happens and I wonder what you do after you go home, who you turn to, who holds you and tells you everything's gonna be okay."

Olivia doesn't know what to make of it. They don't sit on each other's beds whispering introspective things in the dark. And prior to the birth of the newest edition to the Stabler clan, they weren't prone to hugging either.

"And I know it's none of my business…but I don't think you should be alone tonight Liv. Because despite what you say, I know you're not fine."

She doesn't protest when she feels him lay down. When he rolls towards her she's speechless. And when he scoots closer and puts on arm over her waist she holds her breath.

"Everything's gonna be okay," he whispers.

She exhales then and starts breathing normally. Olivia can feel the warmth of him through the covers he so respectfully stayed atop of. She can't believe he's actually there, giving her exactly what she needs. Has needed.

She won't question it. She doesn't ask about Kathy or his family or if they'll worry. She doesn't try to come up with a reason for him to leave or give him an excuse to go. She doesn't contemplate the boundaries of their partnership or the blurred lines of their friendship.

Olivia simply picks up her hand, intertwines her fingers with his and tightens his hold around her waist. She hears him breathing behind her and moments later he's using his thumb to rub against the soft material of her tank top. An Ambien couldn't have done a better job at lulling her to sleep.

Two days later they both return to work. She has months of swearing off coffee to make up for so she stops by her old favorite coffee haunt and gets the largest cup they sell along with one for her partner.

Elliot's already there, sleeves rolled up catching up on paperwork. He smiles broadly when she sit's the large container in front of him.

"If I weren't already married…"

"I'd still be your partner and therefore off limits," she says, sitting down at her desk.

"For coffee this good," he says, taking another sip. "I'd transfer."

Olivia shakes her head and smiles as she boots up her computer. Elliot watches her from across their desks. She feels his staring and turns from her monitor to give him her attention.

"How are you?" he asks sincerely.

She actually pauses before she answers, giving thought to what she's seen and experienced in the last few days. Olivia sees the man that's become like a father to her out the corner of her eye heading for the coffee machine. She hears someone that could be her crazy uncle and another that's like her brother nearby, engaging in a meaningless back and forth. Then she looks back into her partner's eyes. The loneliness she carries is still there, but today it's less than it used to be.

"I'm fine," she says.

And this time he knows she means it.