Author's Note: This is the last part... And it ends rather abruptly, but I think you'll still enjoy it!

Part Four

Whoever had coined the phrase "time flies" didn't know the fucking half of it. Really. The beautiful silver watch adorning his wrist wasn't quite the same as it had been the day he'd opened it, but he didn't regret the passage of time revealed by the scratches and dings it had absorbed over the years. He still loved it, possibly more every time he looked at it, simply because she'd given it to him. The only part that hadn't dulled, that hadn't been subjected to repeated damage, was the inscription on the back, the one it had taken him a couple of years to notice. And, of course, it had only made him love it more.

Elliot was double parked outside the school, watching as hundred of kids came pouring through the doors, the bell still echoing in his ears as the screaming masses descended on the unsuspecting sidewalk.

He scanned the crowd of bodies, finally picking out the one he was looking for, unable to hold back the smile. There was his baby Eli, old enough to dispute the title, already too tall for his age, practically galloping to the car.

"Hi, dad!"

Although Elliot winced that the 'daddy' days were gone, he still knew enough to revel in the expression of sheer joy that crossed his son's face the moment he saw Elliot. Eli was sure to outgrow that in another couple of years.

Eli pawed through his backpack, pulling out a crinkled sheet of paper. "Look! I got a perfect grade on my times tables!"

Elliot took the time to look at the paper, grinning at the 'fantastic' sticker the teacher had placed on top. "Great job!" The grade wasn't really a surprise. Eli aced everything. He had no idea where the math gene had come from, certainly none of his other kids had lucked into it, but he suspected Olivia was to blame. She'd had the child identifying parts of speech by four, a throwback to her own childhood as the daughter of an English professor, she'd claimed. She'd had him babbling in Spanish and French by six.

How the hell the boy had gotten to the third grade, though, was a mystery to him.

Of course, how the hell he'd gotten to be a grandfather was a mystery to him as well. Not that it ever stopped him from proudly displaying pictures of Maureen's two-year-old twin boys to anyone he could.

He remembered showing the pictures to his new partner, the one who'd been his new partner for four years, the one he suspected he'd always tag as his new partner, proud as he'd ever been of his own babies. Michaels had rolled his eyes and suggested a vasectomy. Elliot had begrudgingly repeated that they were his grandkids, and at that point, Michaels had taken to calling him Pops.

And fuck if that hadn't gotten old quick.

At least it had given Olivia, who was still proud to be twenty-nine, a good laugh.

He had to admit Olivia had been right – about a lot of things. First of all, he really wished he'd had the sense to claim to be much younger than he was, if only to stop the entire fucking crew at the three-eight from calling him Pops. And she'd been right about the whole retirement thing too. She never quite believed him when he'd eventually confessed that she was a big part of why he'd decided to do it, but she wasn't at all surprised when he brought up the subject of returning to work in all seriousness.

With a grin on his face, he remembered that day, a day that had come not quite two weeks after his birthday. He'd seen the panic on her face when he said he was sick to death of being retired. It was the same panic she'd had on his birthday, when she'd thought he'd wanted to be her partner again. Oh, he'd wanted to be her partner alright.

And how.

But after that night, when he'd finally witnessed her honest reaction to losing the closeness they'd shared since his retirement, when he'd finally had the balls to admit what he truly wanted, when he'd finally found the words to tell her, as she'd snuggled into his arms just as the sun was starting to rise, that he loved her, well, just working with her was simply never going to cut it. Not after he'd discovered what it was like to kiss her and touch her and love her.

And, of course, her threat that if he broke up with her she would chop his body into so many pieces Warner and all the crime scene techs would never be able to put him together enough to determine who he was let alone what had happened to him was enough to convince him that he ought to stay far away from the one-six.

He'd found a position through an old friend, working homicides in the three-eight, where luckily no one would know that Olivia was anything other than his girlfriend. And if they did, there wouldn't be a damn thing they could do about it anyway.

Michaels was a damn baby, so green around the edges that he nearly passed out every time he saw a dead body, which Elliot really counted against him considering that he was a detective in homicide. But Michaels was a smart guy and a good cop and, besides a short, painful encounter where Elliot had watched as Michaels attempted to pick up a very married Maureen, who'd come to have lunch with her father, they made a good team.

Perpetually being called Pops notwithstanding.

And not quite the team that he and Olivia had made, of course.

But still, Michaels was a decent enough guy and so, when the phone lying on the seat next to him rang, Elliot hadn't minded too much, except that he'd have to postpone the promised celebration that was due for a perfect score on the times table test.

He flipped open the phone, already making a mental map of the fastest way to get Eli to his mother's so he could report to work. "Yeah, hello."

"Stabler?"

Michaels' voice, coupled with the atypical sound of Elliot's name, made his heart skip a beat.

"What?"

"You used to work the one-six, right?"

Panic was already setting in, his heart making up for that one skipped beat by pounding a million miles a minute, his ice cold, sweaty hands gripping the wheel as he sat stupidly in traffic unsure of where to go. "What? What happened?"

Michaels wasn't one to mince words, so the answer was delivered immediately, without hesitation, only wavering a bit on the name, as though he were checking his notepad. "There was a 10-13 called, then an officer down. Called in by a Phil Tulolla-"

Elliot's mind was a jumble of confusion. What the hell was Michaels talking about? And then it clicked. "Fin? Fin Tutuola?" He didn't even wait for the confirmation, not with a 10-13 called in by Olivia's partner. "Where?"

"St. Kat's. That's all I've got."

Elliot snapped the phone closed, grabbed the red light out of the glove compartment, and sped through the streets. He didn't hear the cry of excitement from Eli, giddy for getting to ride in a "real police car." He didn't hear the unhappy drivers who he nearly hit on the way. He didn't even notice when he went tearing the wrong way up one-way streets. There was only one thing on his mind, and that was getting to Olivia's side.

He damn near forgot Eli as he stormed through the doors of St. Katherine's emergency room. And Eli, though tall for an eight-year-old, was no competition for Elliot's long, powerful legs. He'd gripped his father's hand, running to keep up, understanding without words that something was very, very wrong. But no matter how fast Eli ran, Elliot found it was faster to scoop the boy, backpack and all, into his arms. He protested, finding it embarrassing that he was being carried, but his words fell on deaf ears.

Elliot was screaming at the poor woman who'd happened to be at the front desk. "Olivia Benson! Where is she? She's the detective they just brought in!"

The woman's eyes were wide and frightened, her hands shaking as she tried to type.

"Where is she, damn it!" His shout frightened even Eli, who buried his face in Elliot's shoulder.

"She's not in the computer yet, but I saw some police heading that-" The woman pointed to a hallway on the left and was about to say more, except that Elliot was already tearing off, as though he might be able to force his way to wherever she was.

He came skidding to a halt as he cleared the next set of double doors. He immediately recognized the forms of Cragen and Fin, though they had their backs to him. There was a doctor, splatters of blood on her jacket, speaking to them. He thought he might die as he took in the blood. He barely noticed Eli's body slipping from his hold, sliding down to the floor, his sneakers barely making a sound as they hit the ground. He didn't even notice the way the child uncharacteristically wound his arms around his father's waist in fear.

Elliot only heard the doctor's voice, straining to pick up every detail from half a room away. Surgery. Blood loss. But yet, ok. He let out a breath, fairly sure he was going to pass out. She was going to be fine. Just needed a little patching up and she'd be good to go.

Elliot collapsed into a chair, realizing his petrified son hadn't understood the words. He put his arm around the boy's shoulders, trying to explain as best he could that Olivia was hurt, but still ok.

Eli's eyes were wide and scared, despite Elliot's assurances. The boy had known Olivia all his life, he saw her as often as he saw his father. He had a bond with her, a bond, Elliot knew, that had formed the moment he was born, in the back of an ambulance a lifetime ago.

"Can I see her?" Eli's eyes were wet with tears he refused to shed, a Stabler through and through. "I want to see Liv."

Elliot nodded and squeezed the boy's hand. "I know. I do too. But she's going to be ok. That's what the doctor said." He reached for his phone, thinking to call Kathy to pick up Eli. There was no point in making him sit in the hospital all night when Elliot knew full well that children weren't allowed in the post-op rooms. But selfishly, he didn't want to be alone. He wanted to have something to hug. And so he put the phone away.

"Maybe you can see her later."

Eli stared at him with squinted eyes, trying to size up his honesty, a habit he'd definitely picked up from Olivia. It made Elliot smile. And so Eli nodded, deciding his father was telling the truth.

Elliot staring at the floor while his brainiac son pulled out a thick book and started to read. His hands knotted together, boredom and nerves working in tandem to stress him out. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Cragen and Fin moved to sit in a set of chairs facing the other hallway. He sighed in relief. He harbored no bad feelings for them, had no problems with them at all, but he didn't feel like bringing them up to speed. He hadn't seen either one since the day he'd retired, despite Olivia's partnership with Fin. And Olivia hadn't wanted to mention their relationship to anyone. Elliot could hardly blame her. He knew what that would look like to everyone; he knew what it would do to her reputation.

And since it had been so long since they'd seen him, they hadn't even recognized him, not with the way he was bent over, leaning on his knees. And they hadn't seen Eli since before the child could walk, so it wasn't hard to see how they'd just assumed Elliot and Eli were another pair of people waiting for an update on someone.

It amused him, to listen to their chatter, obviously more relaxed with the news that Olivia was going to be fine. Cragen had asked about notification.

And Fin had only shrugged. "She doesn't really talk about her personal life, you know? I know she's seeing somebody, but that's all I know about him. She hasn't even told him his name."

Elliot could hear Cragen's tired sigh. "I could swear she never updated her ten card."

Fin looked at his boss. "Don't tell me to call her brother. Liv hasn't spoken to him in years, even I know that."

Fin was exactly right, though he probably had never gotten the story. All Simon ever wanted to talk about was his dad. He told Olivia story after story about what a wonderful, unbelievably perfect father the man had been. It had led to Olivia coming home from dinner with him in tears more than once before she'd given up and broken off contact. She'd wanted to know her family, but she hadn't wanted to discuss her father.

Cragen snorted. "Fuck no, I'm pretty damn sure it still lists her partner as her next-of-kin."

Fin turned to Cragen, his disbelief fairly clear in his tone. "Me?"

"Elliot."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So does that mean we're supposed to call him?" Fin actually sounded like he wanted Cragen to tell him what to do. Elliot couldn't wait to tell Olivia about the conversation.

"Are they still in touch?"

Fin shrugged. "I don't know. She never mentions him."

Cragen sighed again. "If she hasn't mentioned the man in five years, she probably doesn't want us to call him."

"I don't really want to call him and tell him she's hurt anyway." Fin paused for a moment. "You know, just in case."

"First thing tomorrow, I'm instituting a new policy. Everyone is updating their contacts every Friday."

"Every week, cap, that's a little excessive."

"Not if it spares me sitting here trying to guess who the fuck one of my detectives wants me to call when they're hurt."

Snickering softly to himself, Elliot shook his head. Olivia was going to get ripped a new one for not updating her information, but technically, although he was no longer her partner, it was still correct. And in that case, Elliot understood why she'd left it alone. He was still her next-of-kin and his phone number hadn't changed.

A little less than an hour later, the click of high heels sounded on the floor. Elliot's attention perked up, but he waited to hear, silently squeezing Eli's hand in his.

The same doctor was back, fixing Cragen and Fin with a smile. "Detective Benson is fine. She's in recovery. Are you her husband?"

Fin's mutter of "oh, thank god" carried through the room. Then he spoke up, knowing that doctors had a blind spot where patients were concerned and assumed all of them were happily married. "I'm her partner. She's not married."

Cragen piped up, perhaps trying to cover for the fact that he hadn't contacted Elliot yet. "We're working on notifying her next-of-kin."

With a smile, the doctor shook her head. "Um, no, you don't understand, Detective Benson is asking for her husband."

Elliot watched as Fin and Cragen turned to each other, silently accusing the other of holding out on them. And then, with a huge smile and Eli at his side, Elliot stood up. "I'm right here."

Fin and Cragen seemed to turn in slow motion to look at him, confusion, amusement, and shock washing over their faces in rapid succession.

"Your wife's going to be fine." The doctor smiled at Elliot, stepping around the clueless twins and approaching him, lifting her hand to direct him down the hall. "Oh, and she wanted me to tell you, the baby's doing ok, wasn't harmed a bit."

The words hadn't even sunk in by the time he made it to her room. In fact, they seemed to hit him just as he crossed the threshold, causing him to stop so suddenly that Eli crashed into his legs.

"Baby?"

Olivia just smiled at him, her eyes dancing.