Crimson

Unholiest Alliance and immediately after.

Author's note: This is going to hurt. Don't hate me. I promise to write something fluffy in the near future.

They were celebrating.

She was excited to make it to the restaurant. Tucker usually suggested whiskey when they went out, which had been quite frequently since their little stint of unemployment. Tonight she needed red wine. She missed it. She was thinking about a nero d'avola, a nice chianti, or a smooth sangiovese. Something a touch sweet, but went down easy.

"Benson, you with me?" She turned toward Tucker in the back of the cab and he blinked a few times until he came into focus, previously lost in her thoughts. Her response was a simple smile back at him as she placed her hand on his jean clad thigh.

"What were you thinking about?" He responded by putting his hand on top of hers and squeezing gently.

Wine.

"Just happy it's over."

When they entered the restaurant, Tucker started made his way to the hostess to ask for a table, but she grabbed his elbow before he could and gestured toward the bar. "There's no wait," she mouthed to him and they weaved through the table to sit at the nearly empty bar area.

She waved down the female bartender and ordered them both a glass of chianti.

"Wine tonight?" He usually didn't mind her choice in alcohol. He learned early on she was somewhat of a wine connoisseur and had broadened his tastes considerably.

"I've been trying with the whiskey, but you can't beat a good red." She made fleeting eye contact with him before picking up her glass, swirling the crimson liquid around the sides, watching it slowly settle.

He watched her, her cheeks were already a touch pink and he wondered how many glasses she had before he picked her up tonight. She was still mesmerized by the small waves cascading along the sides of the glass.

"Can we get a couple of menus?" He asked the bartender, but before she could reach for them, Olivia put her hand up to stop her. The bartender looked back at Tucker, confused.

"I'm not really hungry." She left the menus within arms reach in case they changed their minds before turning her attention toward other guests.

"Not even an appetizer?" They'd come here specifically for dinner and she seemed to be forgoing that for a liquid meal. He would be lying if he said the thought didn't make him uncomfortable. It was then he noticed her glass was already nearly empty.

She sensed his discomfort, her fingers fiddling with the napkin beneath her glass.

"So you get the keep your job?" She changed the subject.

"And you get yours back." He was overwhelmingly relieved with the prospect of not having to retire early. Despite everything that happened this week, he still loved working for IAB.

"Congratulations to us." The corners of his mouth lifted slightly at her use of the word "us." It felt good, right.

Glasses clinked and as he took a sip he thought about leaning in to kiss her.

But her hand was in the air to signal another before he had enough time to swallow his mouthful of wine. He settled for his hand on her thigh instead.

His frustration was starting to build and he immediately glanced back toward the restaurant so she wouldn't notice. Despite all his years of interrogations, hiding his dissatisfaction with a situation was one thing Ed Tucker was not skilled at. But he had an idea of how he wanted tonight to go. When he was cleared of the charges, she was the first thing to cross his mind. He would take her to a nice restaurant, a good dinner. Lucy would put Noah down for the night. He had plans that included candles, her bed, possibly her shower as well. It was going to be the relaxing evening they both needed.

Now she was two drinks and zero food into the evening and already swaying slightly beneath his hand.

"What?" Shit, she noticed.

"Nothing…It's just…" He thought the drinking in excess would have stopped when all was righted with their jobs. But he had noticed her pace, her eagerness to go to the bar in the last week. He'd tried to mentally excuse her, make excuses for her behavior. "I thought… you know – I know this has been stressful and everything but I thought we could take it easy tonight."

"Oh okay. I thought we were celebrating." Her voiced lowered and she sounded just a little bit embarrassed.

"Oh we are." He couldn't help but notice her continue to steal glances at her glass. She was resisting the urge to pick it back up again. "It's just - " This wasn't the time or place to bring this up, but he had opened that door…

"I get it." She cut him off. "You're just looking out for me." He was, he really was. But he still felt like there was more he should say.

"Always." And that he meant. He knew this behavior wasn't like her, it wasn't who she was at the core, but the last few years had been so hard on her. He felt some sort of internal tug to get her out of it. Bring her back to solid ground.

She brought his hand up to her lips, kissing the skin there. Even though she clearly wasn't seeing the drinking as quite as much of a problem as he did, she seemed to express some understanding.

But then he saw her eyeballing the wine once more before glancing back up at him and his heart sank.

Ed was quiet the entire cab ride to her apartment. He'd closed their tab quickly after she was poured her second drink.

Since then, his mouth formed a straight line and his jaw had yet to unclench.

Even her attempt to kiss him outside the restaurant ended in a clumsy brush of his lips on her cheek.

He couldn't possibly be this mad about 2 glasses of wine, the second of which she didn't even get to finish.

He'd had drinks with her the entire week and never said a word. Most night ended with wine on the couch, touching and kissing until they moved into the bedroom.

When they entered her apartment and stripped off their jackets, she moved behind him wrapping her arms around his middle. He slid his hands up her arms, her skin erupting in goose bumps.

He spun around in her arms until he was facing her. His hands cupped the sides of her face. As his thumb traced along her lips, her tongue darted out to circle his finger.

He could see the playful sparkle in her eyes, as she turned to kiss his palm. She wanted it to continue, her fingers going to the buttons of his shirt. Of course he wanted her, but the weight of tonight was still pressing on him. It would be easy to keep going, to sink into her and put off the conversation for another day.

He glanced over her shoulder and it was then that his eyes fell to the nearly empty bottle of wine on the coffee table. He assumed it was from earlier today. His hands dropped from her shoulders as his body stiffened. She turned slightly to see what had grabbed his attention. His pursed lip look was back and it was obvious to her he knew she was drinking more alone than he initially realized.

"You want to talk about it?" He mentioned, his eyes never leaving the bottle. She untangled from his arms immediately and took a seat on the couch, sitting stiffly on the edge of the cushion. She was prepared for whatever blow he had to offer.

He moved to sit next to her, almost mirroring her positioning. "I'm worried about you."

"I told you, I've been to therapy, Ed. I'm fine," She shot back instantly.

"Dammit." He cursed under his breath. "It's not that…It's the drinking."

"You've been drinking just as much as me." She sounded confused, but he sensed the slightly hint that she was ashamed. Regardless, she was still actively trying to defend her actions.

Fuck, he didn't want it to get to this, but he had been watching her while they drank. The bars were usually her idea, and every time they went she hit it hard and fast.

He took his time sucking in air then blowing it out slowly.

"It's…that's not entirely true. That sports bar, you had a double. And the next day, another double and that shot. And you…you had wine every night." He sat with his hands clasped in front of him, his elbows on his knees. She needed to hear this but it hurt too much to make eye contact with her.

The pressure started to rise in her chest now. Self-righteous prick, even off the job, he was still policing her. He spend 14 years monitoring her job for signs she'd fucked up, now he was doing it in her personal life. He had no right; he wasn't her boss, her therapist. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.

"Wow." Her mouth hung open, her brain unable to process anything more. She stood from the couch and planted herself in front of the bookcase.

The room was starting to feel like an interrogation. He was questioning her actions, her motives. He wanted an explanation. Brian never confronted her about the drinking and she'd done just fine. It was merely a phase, and it wasn't that bad. It had never interfered with work, she rarely woke up hung over, Noah was fine. It wasn't a problem, right?

"Olivia." She realized she hasn't spoken but instead begun pacing the small room, her hands on her head.

"What do you want me to say? I'm drinking because it stops the nightmares? I'm drinking because then I don't wake up screaming thinking that someone has Noah, or you, or that the next scene I run into will by my last?" She let out a humorless laugh but her voice cracked, the underlying pain evident. "Is that what you want to hear?"

"I want the truth." She was crying now, silently and Tucker felt like he was watching a chemical reaction building, starting to combust in front of his eyes.

He'd dealt with an alcoholic father. He watched the beer, the whiskey, whatever he could get his hands on, slowly destroy his father's life and most of his childhood. He couldn't let it happen to the woman he loved as well. He knew at her core, this wasn't who she was. He also knew, there was no amount of preaching that could convince her to change. It had to come from her. She had to accept the problem and only then could she start to repair the fractures in her life.

"I know you don't want to turn out like your mother." He meant to get her thinking, hoping putting the idea in her mind would start her back on the straight and narrow. Instead, the words came out accusatory, and he instantly felt like a bastard.

She stopped pacing. Her right hand curled into a fist.

"Fuck you." She growled, still facing the wall in front of her.

She turned slowly toward him. Her eyes looked wild, glassed over; fueled by the small amount of alcohol that still coursed through her veins.

"Get. Out." She was practically screaming.

He rose from the couch, made his way toward her and captured her face between his hands. "I'm not leaving you." The double meaning did not go unnoticed by Olivia.

She pulled backward out of his grasp, "Well I want you to."

"I don't believe you." She scoffed at him.

Just then Noah came stumbling into the living room, eyes sleepy, his small blanket clenched in his hand.

"Oh lovey, did we wake you up?" Her tone of voice changed immediately. Her eyes narrowed at Tucker, seemingly blaming him for the yelling that woke her child. She started to round the couch then, set on swooping Noah up and soothing him back to sleep. The quick moments made her head swim and suddenly caused her to stumble as her foot caught the edge of the couch. Time seemed to slow as she felt herself teetering to the right. She had just enough know-how to latch onto the neighboring chair to keep her from falling over completely.

"Let me grab him." Tucker was already scooping Noah up in his arms, walking toward to bedroom without looking back.

She stood frozen, half her body leaning over the chair and dropped her forehead to the soft material of the back of the chair.

"Okay." The shaky words came from underneath the shield of her hair. She didn't want to move, she wanted to keep her face hidden, her head down because he had been right. She was right of the edge of becoming her mother. She had felt herself slipping weeks ago, but work was stressful and she found an excuse every night to pour just one more glass – The hostage situation, the squad was short staffed without Fin, the investigation, meeting with 1PP, starting at community affairs, the list went on and on. But her child needed her tonight. She alone had been the source of his discomfort; the worried look across his tiny features was entirely her doing. And she wasn't even in a sound enough state of mind to put him back to bed.

When Tucker came back into the living room, she was curled up on the couch, her knees drawn up to her chest, her chin resting on her knees. The tears were still coming.

Her voice became small, nothing more than a whisper. "We…we were celebrating. You said so yourself before we left." She wanted to justify her actions tonight, but as she said the words, she knew she was lying.

"Liv, I wanted a nice dinner with you." He sounded crushed and she felt like a bitch for ruining their evening.

"I really screwed up." He hooked his hands into the back side of her legs, pulling her over to his side of the couch. She settled in with her side against him and he kissed the top of her hair.

"Did I ever tell you about my father?"

She shook her head gently. "I never asked."

He broke out into a small smile. Even in the worst of times for both of them, she crawled her way out of the darkness to bring a hint of humor to their night.

"That time you told me the whole story of your mother, I understood what you went through. " His voice was huskier than usual, laced with deep seeded pain.

"Oh…Ed no." Her heart broke for him. The standoffish, seemingly emotionless man went through hell as a child. She rotated to look up at him. He was looking off into the distance, his mouth in a hard line.

"I suppose I got lucky, my mother packed our things one night and moved us to New York before it got really bad. But he caused a few years of damage first. He…he mostly took it out on my mom. I was too younger to understanding. I…" He cleared his throat and Olivia looked away, worried he was on the verge of tears and wouldn't want her to see him cry.

"I couldn't defend her."

"You were a child, Ed. It wasn't your fault."

"I know that. You know I know that. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt." She finally turned around to face him. Her legs crossed in his lap. He held onto both her hands in her lap.

"Why are you telling me this? You've never been one to share before."

"Because I want you to understand Olivia, We both went through hell, we went through the fire and we came out the other side, but it shaped our entire lives. We have to work harder than others to get through the day to day. It's always going to be a constant struggle. For both of us."

"You're just looking out for me." This time the words meant so much more to her.

"I'm looking out for us."

He brought her hand to his lips, kissing her the same way she had done to him earlier.

He then climbed off the couch, reaching for the half empty wine bottle still on the coffee table. She watched wordlessly as he poured the remainder of the bottle down the sink.

She ran her fingers under her eyes, cleaning off the remnants of make-up and tears. She didn't protest his actions until he removed the 3 bottles from beneath her sink and began peeling the foil away from each bottle, grabbing the corkscrew.

"Wait…just wait." She started to crawl off the couch. "Those were expensive."

He pointed the corkscrew at her and motioned for her to sit. She plopped back down on the couch.

"The bar dates stop. The drinking stops." She sighed as she dropped her head onto the couch cushions.

"I know." She closed her eyes as the sounds of her last bits of wine fell into the sink. When he finished, he walked over to the back of the couch, leaning down over her. He kissed gently her upside down.

"As a deal, I'll quit smoking." She smiled into his lips.

"Deal."