Olivia is screaming his name…screaming for him to help her…but he can't reach her.
Hell, he doesn't even know where she is.
Her screams are echoing off the warehouse walls, but every time he thinks he pinpoints where the sound is coming from…every time he turns a corner with his gun poised…he finds nothing.
Another scream.
More urgent this time.
He doesn't know what they are doing to her. His imagination is his worst enemy right now, because he knows what these men are capable of.
He fights the urge to call out to her, but he doesn't know which way to go anymore.
Then he hears it…a whimpering sound.
And somehow, that is so much worse than the screams.
It guts him.
He whispers her name under his breath, turning in the direction of the awful sounds. He starts running, running faster than he ever has in his life, and then suddenly, he is falling. Arms flailing…he is in a freefall, and it makes no sense. He tries to grab onto something…anything…but he is surrounded by nothingness.
He can't save her now…he has failed her again…
Elliot jolts awake…disoriented…chest heaving.
It takes him a moment before he realizes…it was just a dream.
A nightmare.
Fuck! He curses out loud, and the sound ricochets around the spartan room.
He sits up, fighting against the sheets that he's tangled up in. His body is bathed in sweat, and his heart is beating out of his chest.
Olivia.
He doesn't know why he keeps having nightmares about her, when she's the only thing that gets him through the days right now.
When all else seems lost…she is there.
EOEOEOEO
He watches as she walks into the squad room. She looks tired, but she gives him a small smile as she stuffs her things in the top drawer of her desk. He finds himself wondering if she was out late because he knows she's started dating again. She didn't tell him, but he'd heard Fin and Munch teasing her…asking her questions. He had pretended not to hear them because he didn't want to know.
He thinks back to the days "before", when the possibility of "them" still existed. When they talked about things…when they knew everything about each other.
He remembers vividly the day things changed…the look on her face when he told her Kathy was pregnant; when he told her that he was moving home.
He would have given anything to hold her then…to whisper the apology that was in his heart…on his lips…to erase the look of pain on her face.
But they'd been interrupted, and they'd never been the same since.
He spent a lot of nights wondering how his life would have been different if he had gone to her that fateful night…
He wonders if that's where the nightmares came from.
He stares up at her, sitting across from him with a mug of coffee grasped between her two hands, as if to warm them.
"Hey." She says, giving him another quick smile before she takes a sip of coffee.
He smiles back, thankful that she's still there…sitting across from him.
He feels like he doesn't deserve her…
But without her…he would be lost.
EOEOEOEO
He sat on the edge of the couch, holding his head in his hands. He wasn't certain if it was Olivia's screams or his own that had woken him up, but he could feel his body shaking. The creak on the stairs made him lift his head, but he knew it would be Kathy.
She didn't understand what was going on with him and continued to press him to talk to her. He didn't know why, because in the past…when the cases and the victims had piled up and haunted his dreams…he had never talked to her.
She assumed he talked to Olivia.
The past few nights, he had moved to the couch, hoping he wouldn't wake her...trying to dodge her questions…her concern.
He hated that she still cared…that he was causing her stress.
"El?"
He heard the tentativeness in her voice, but he didn't look at her as she sat down beside him. He flinched as her fingers touched his shoulder, and she withdrew them quickly.
He was an asshole.
"I wish…"
He turned and looked at her then, wondering what she wished for.
He wanted her to tell him that she wished he'd never moved home. That she wished he'd leave. He wanted her to say it because he wasn't strong enough to do it on his own…to speak first.
He stared back and forth between her eyes, begging her to say it…suppressing the desire to scream at her to just SAY IT.
They'd made a mistake.
Then he saw her expression soften and he knew the moment was over.
He wondered how many questions she had wanted to ask over the years…and if she was more afraid of his denials or the truth.
"I'm sorry." He said. He wasn't sure what he was apologizing for.
Anything.
Everything.
He saw her nod…her eyes softening.
Sad.
She gave him a pained smile and left him sitting there.
He'd never felt more alone.
EOEOEOEO
They were on their way to a crime scene, and the only sound in the car was the sound of the radio buzzing in the background. The volume was on low, and he couldn't really make out the words or the melody, but it broke the silence in the car.
He had his eyes on the road, but he could feel Olivia's eyes on him. He knew he looked like hell. So many sleepless nights will do that to a person. But she hadn't said anything about it…yet…and he wondered if she would.
They didn't talk much anymore…at least not about anything personal.
Maybe he imagined her concern.
She probably just assumed he'd been up at night with the baby.
He found that he almost wanted her to ask…or to care enough to ask.
He turned towards her as they slowed down and pulled up to the curb, but she was already opening the door and sliding out of the car.
Another opportunity lost…
He let out a sigh.
He knew he wouldn't have said anything if she asked.
He was too afraid that he would say something that would drive her away for good this time.
He wouldn't be able to bear it if she left him again.
He would suffer with his nightmares.
Just to keep her close.
EOEOEOEO
He woke with a start to see Olivia standing over him. He had taken the chance on a nap in the cribs, hoping exhaustion would allow him a sleep without dreams or nightmares, and it had been a success.
"We got a call. A lead we need to follow up on." She motioned towards the door but didn't move in that direction.
He stared at her for a moment. They way she lingered…the way she was looking at him…
She wanted to say something.
He watched as she shifted on her feet, and she alternated between looking at him and looking away.
He was surprised when she sat down on the edge of the bed.
"El…"
Her voice was soft…laced with concern…and he had a sudden feeling of dread. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear what she was going to say.
It was irrational.
She was as afraid of upsetting the balance as he was.
"How's Eli?"
He felt himself sigh with relief. It was safe ground.
"He's good." His voice was hoarse from sleep.
She nodded her head, and he knew that wasn't the question she wanted to ask. She seemed to be struggling…maybe trying to get up the courage to say what was on her mind…but then he felt her pulling away.
He reached out impulsively, reaching for her hand, but she was already moving, and his fingertips barely grazed her skin.
She stopped and looked down at him.
He realized that it was the first time he had touched her since the hug he'd given her in the hospital, and it made him ache.
He saw the look on Olivia's face…and he imagined it mirrored his own.
"We need to go." She whispered.
And then she was gone.
EOEOEOEO
He feels like an imposter in his own life.
Pretending to be a loving husband and a perfect father.
Pretending to do the job, as if nothing had changed. Olivia seeming strangely distant, even as she worked at his side.
He wondered if others saw through the façade.
He finds himself wishing things were back to the way they were before.
He laughs inwardly at the thought.
Before what?
Before he had fallen in love with his partner?
Before Gitano?
Before Oregon?
Before he had tried to find solace in his wife's bed?
He doesn't know what the answer is, and maybe that's what keeps him from moving forward.
He doesn't know what he wants.
No.
That's not right.
He knows what he wants.
But he has responsibilities. A beautiful baby boy that deserves everything he can give him.
A loving home. A family. For the next 18 years, he would play the role.
The thought almost makes him ill, because he isn't that good of an actor.
He looks up and sees Cragen eyeing him from across the room, and Olivia is standing next to him. They are talking and he's 99% sure he's the topic of conversation.
He wonders what Olivia has told him.
Maybe his mask has cracked.
Maybe they could see the turmoil in his mind…
Cragen moves towards him, but Olivia walks in the opposite direction.
Away from him.
His last thought before Cragen calls him in his office is that she should walk away for good.
He's no good for her.
He can't give her what she wants.
What she deserves.
No matter how much he wants to.
EOEOEOEO
The nightmares aren't ending, and he doesn't know how much longer he can go on like this.
Cragen told him to take a few days off.
Talk to someone.
Get some rest.
It wasn't a request.
A week had passed, and he had done what was required of him, careful not to disclose too much.
Uninterrupted sleep still eluded him, and the couch seemed to be his permanent resting place now.
Or, at the very least, the place where he lay at night, fighting to quiet his mind.
He feels nervous walking into the squad room, wondering what Cragen had told Olivia after he had stormed out of the precinct a week before.
As he crosses the room and grabs the back of his chair, she walks in, and he doesn't see any judgement…any questions.
Just a smile.
It lights her entire face, and he wonders how it was possible to miss someone so much in just seven days.
He knows then that he will try harder.
He needs her by his side, even if it's just as his partner.
He smiles back, feeling renewed hope and determination.
It was dashed less than an hour later, when she and Fin brought him up to speed on their latest case.
The story they unraveled…it was a story he'd heard time and time again.
But this time, as he listens to Olivia's voice rattle off the details, he feels a chill in his body.
Her words…they unsettle him in some way he can't define.
And then…it happened.
The pieces click into place.
A warehouse…women…rape…trafficking.
He feels himself in a free fall again, trying to grasp at anything…everything.
"Liv." He gasps out her name, feeling the panic start to fuel the adrenaline in his body.
She looks up at him sharply, and he knows the poker face he'd been perfecting was long gone.
EOEOEOEO
He sits on the bench in the locker room, staring at his locker.
Waiting.
Only a few minutes had passed before Olivia came storming into the room, and he knew her anger was off the charts by the way the door hit the wall as she pushed her way through it.
"Elliot! What the fuck?"
He straightens up quickly, steeling himself for the fight to come.
He listens to her tirade as she positions herself in front of the locker next to his, forcing him to turn slightly to look at her.
He hears her words.
You had no right to have her taken off the case.
They were partners.
How dare he.
Asshole.
He didn't care.
He can't erase the sound of her screams ingrained in his mind.
He knows there is no way he can make her understand.
Cragen had thought he was crazy.
It must have been the pain in his voice…the pleading…his faith in his instincts that made Cragen acquiesce.
And now they were here.
Olivia finally stopped, and he notices the strange look on her face…her furrowed brows…the narrowed eyes.
She didn't understand why he wasn't fighting back.
"What the hell is going on?"
He hears her question, but he doesn't know how to answer it.
She was clearly frustrated by his lack of response.
"I'm a good cop."
He nods.
She doesn't know what to do with that.
"You don't trust me anymore?"
He can hear the tremor in her voice, and he hates that her first thought was to doubt her own capability or his faith in her.
"I trust you with my life." He says, punctuating each word. "It's you that shouldn't trust me."
He sees the confusion in her eyes as she tries to make sense of his words.
Olivia sits down on the bench next to him, turning to slip one leg on either side as she stares into his eyes. "Elliot."
He hates the sound of fear in her voice.
"Please…just tell me what the hell is going on."
He stares blankly at her as the long list of trespasses against her trails through his mind.
"Whatever you think you've done…"
It had been a long time since she's been able to read his mind.
It garnered a memory of another time.
"I have to go."
And then he left her, wishing he could give her the answers she was looking for.
EOEOEOEOEO
He was back in the very same spot, more than eighteen hours after he'd left.
The precinct was dark.
Olivia was gone.
The bad guys were locked away.
He was shaking…the adrenaline still coursing through his system…as he thought about how things had gone down tonight.
He stood at his locker, taking off his torn short and balling it up in his fist before throwing it into his locker.
The fact that she hadn't been there tonight…
He knows he should feel relieved, but he still feels unsettled.
He knows the nightmares won't leave him alone.
He was smart enough to know the dream wasn't literal…and the ways in which he's failed her trail through his mind again.
"El."
He jumps…his heart racing…as he hears her whisper his name.
He turns, swallowing hard. He takes in her tousled appearance and he knows she's been sleeping.
He thinks she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
His heart aches.
She isn't angry with him, and he wishes she was.
He can handle her anger. He deserves it.
But this…
The look in her eyes as she stares at him.
It breaks him, and he stifles a sob from deep inside himself.
He steels himself as he turns back to his locker. "What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you."
Now he's the one that's struck dumb.
He ignores her comment and pulls on a clean t-shirt.
"Elliot!"
Her tone was demanding, but he didn't turn.
He slams his locker closed, intent on leaving.
He can't talk to her right now.
Not when he was so close to breaking.
"Goddamnit!"
She moves quickly, blocking his way, and he is forced to stop or push her out of the way.
He stops.
"You're not leaving until we talk."
There is fight in her voice and all he feels is tired.
Weak.
He digs deep…he needs to find his anger…but he falters.
Her eyes are shiny with unshed tears, and as he watches, she bites down on her lower lip.
He can count on one hand the number of times he has seen her cry and it's his undoing.
"I'm sorry." He says, knowing it's not nearly enough.
He tries to push past her then because he can't do this, but her hands are on his arms and he stops.
He doesn't look at her…just stands in place as she digs her fingers into his bare arms.
"Sorry for what?"
He hears the question, and her voice is laden with emotion and disbelief, barely more than a whisper.
"What do you think you've done?"
His heart was beating out of his chest…a million answers running through his mind.
He finally turns to her and he sees a few tears have escaped and are trailing down her face.
It tears at his heart…and he knows he is too weak to fight it anymore.
"El?" Soft…tentative. "What do you think you've done?"
He stares at her…hoping that she'll look away. Instead, she holds his gaze, waiting for an answer.
He can't fight her anymore.
"I fell in love with you."
EOEOEOEO
He looks across his desk, and Olivia gives him a small smile.
He smiles back.
It's amazing what a few good night's sleep can do for a person.
They still need to talk, but that night in the locker room had been cathartic.
He had been surprised by her reaction…most importantly…her lack of surprise at his confession.
She'd made a confession of her own.
She told him that the choices he'd made in the past don't dictate the choices he makes in the future.
He knows she's right.
He's working on it.
She knows she has demons of her own.
She's working on it.
He realizes now that the mistakes that were made…they weren't his alone.
She's forgiven him.
He's forgiven her.
The past is just that…in the past.
Gone…but not forgotten.
Lessons learned.
He thinks that maybe he can see a path forward.
He knows that it won't be easy.
He is happier than he's been in a long time.
Most importantly…the nightmares are gone.
He stares across his desk at her, but this time, she's engrossed in something on her desk.
He knows he owes her for not giving up on him.
He hopes he can make it up to her.
He hopes he gets up the courage to kiss her.
He thinks she wants him to…
She looks up and catches him staring. It isn't the first time, nor will it be the last.
"Get to work." She teases…
He smiles, catching the sparkle in her dark eyes.
For the first time in a long time…he has hope.