Title: September Storm

Author: pacificbluegirl

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the SVU characters, I have just borrowed them for a bit of tortu- I mean fun.

Summary: A disheveled and panicking Elliot Stabler rushes back to his old precinct after he's received news that has instantly torn his world apart. Can you ever truly leave a partner behind?

Authors note: Set some time in season 14, but before her Negotiation. Contains E/O as well as some Bensaro partnership/friendship moments for anyone who likes a bit of that.

Jeg tænker på Olivia

Jeg tænker stadig på Olivia

/

I am thinking of Olivia

I am still thinking of Olivia

- Rasmus Seebach, Olivia

September Storm

The window is beginning to fog up along the bottom and out of the corner of his eye he catches blurred flashes of yellow as the rain falls, harder and harder. The noise the cascading rain makes against the roof of the cab is drilling its way through his head and he swallows hard, thinking he can feel bile rise in his throat. He swallows again, and again. Tries to push the tightness of his throat away and is desperately willing what is left of his breakfast to stay down.

It is fully possible that the majority came up on his driveway as he ran out to catch his flight this morning. He can still feel it on his tongue.

The traffic pulsates through the traffic and he rubs his chest with a clammy palm willing the city, their city, to fall into rhythm with his racing heart. He needs it to move faster. But it won't listen. Big, fat streams of water runs down the window of the car and he doesn't know if his groans of pain are just in his head, or if he is letting them spill between his lips. He thinks he might have caught the taxi driver eyeing him warily in the rearview mirror but he can't be sure, can't concentrate on the thought long enough.

Thunder breaks across the sky, snakes its way between skyscrapers and blocks of brownstones. The bright light blurs in the heavy rainfall and blends with the splashes of yellow that rushes past. When he first got into the cab, when they first started the journey he had found it comforting. He had almost unconsciously counted them - the other cabs. So familiar, so normal. There should be no better indication of normal in New York city. Now the traffic around him had turned into a prison.

How much longer, until we're there, pushed its way through the drilling in his head, but he purses his lips. He's not a child, and he knows. Even in a storm and even with his throat full of burning bile and even though he can't remember what it was exactly that he did have for breakfast this morning he knows exactly where they are. He knows where in the massive grid they're being swept along in the strong current of traffic.

Not much longer now. Almost there.

He twists his hands in his lap and lets his mind temporarily wonder if he has his wallet with him.

As the taxi finally pulls up at his destination he tries not to cry because this goddamn building was just meant to be a leg of a journey, never a destination, not for them. There was meant to be more. Palm trees, European castles, tiny feet running across hardwood floors, kisses, cuddles and promises kept. Warmth, safety, security.

He does have his wallet and he throws bills at the driver, not quite having listened to what he owes him but the driver pulls away the second he's pushed the door closed behind him so it must have been enough. Elliot blinks rain out of his eyes and feels his shirt soak through at the shoulders. He looks up at the building and he isn't sure if he has tears running down his cheeks or if it is just the rain. It is quiet in a way he never remembers his precinct being at this time of the day.

Now that he is here he all of a sudden regrets having willed time to go faster. Now that he is here he wants it to slow down to a slow motion. He wants to cling to this reality a little bit longer, the one where he is yet to see what he knows he will never be able to burn off his retinas. The picture had been... bad enough.

The rain is coming down heavily though and as the wind picks up he shivers, suddenly cold and he squeezes his hands into fists. The cold is tugging and ripping at his clothes and skin and his mind taunts him with every step he takes toward the entrance. His imagination is piecing together how ice cold damp will have spread through her veins, each weak beat of her heart having carried it further through her body until it had-

"Sir?"

And he has climbed all the stairs, grabs the doorway, hard until his knuckles go white and there is a dark gray, cable knitted cardigan hanging over her desk chair. He knows the one. Knows it is too big for her, he has joked many times that it could fit at least two and it is the softest piece of clothing he has ever touched. A memory jolts through him and he lets go of the door frame and takes a heavy step towards the desk. They had argued... or maybe he argued, and she reasoned. He takes another step towards it and the air is so still. He wipes at his wet forehead, dries the rain with a useless, soaked shirt sleeve. She had walked away from him looking tired and worn out in that way he sometimes thought only he could make her. He found her sleep on one of the bunks hours later and she was muttering in her sleep. He remember sitting on the edge of the crib with his head in his hands just listening to her whimper and thinking there was so much she never told him about. So much he could never keep her safe from.

The damn cardigan had been in a pile on the floor, and he had picked it up. Just like he did now. He had draped it over her, tucked her in, leaving his hands on her shoulders.

No, no. He puts the garment back on the chair and it is so quiet. He closes his eyes for a moment and tries to sift through the white noise and keep the strange headache at bay. When did that even start?

"Sir? Sir!"

There used to be a picture of them on her desk.

"Sir can I help you?" the voice is desperate and weary all at the same time and as Elliot finally realises someone is speaking to him and spins around the stranger takes a half step back as if frightened by something in his eyes.

Nick thinks that this is not what he needs. He needs a couple of hours of sleep and a break through in this case they have been working for the past week. He thinks that if he doesn't get his sleep now there will be no time for the next 20 hours. His limbs are aching a little from the overnight stake-out in his car and he can still taste stale coffee on his lips. His hand is hovering over his holster and if it wasn't for familiarity somewhere in the mans worn and pale face he would have palmed his weapon a long time ago. He is relieved to have finally snapped the man out of his trance but is still not sure what to think, or do so he asks him again.

"Can I help you?" and he feels just as tired as he sounds.

"Can I-" Elliot starts, but changes his mind. "Captain?" he asks and Nick notices how the man peers behind him, as to search the office behind him, still clearly very distracted and distraught.

Nick narrows his eyes at Elliot and relaxes a little.

"I am sure I can find the Captain for you if you tell me what you need Mr...?"

Somehow Nick expects what comes out of the mans mouth next, that feeling of familiarity, like when you think you might be grasping at the memory of a dream, still tugging at his mind.

"Detective."

"Detective Stabler?" Nick continues for him and he is sure he can see the big, strong man's knees buckle at the sound of his full title. He knew he recognised him. He had never met him before of course but had seen him in enough pictures and though his partner hardly ever spoke about him he was still the only force that could rip through his partner like a tornado when she let her guard down and someone used it to their advantage. He had witnessed a couple of old perps that they had crossed paths with again do it and he had even seen colleagues bring his name up at times when pressure of the job had made them make bad calls to get to where they thought they needed to get with the female detective.

She would always carry him on her sleeve as if her heart was made up of the memory of this man. The disheveled man that is standing before him now, dripping all over the floor.

Nick takes a few steps towards him and considers extending his hand to introduce himself but Stabler's eyes are still filled with something Nick can't quite understand. Instead he motions towards the hallway and clears his throat before he speaks, as calmly and confidently as he can.

"Let's head down to the lockers, I know she still has a few of your shirts."

Nick walks down the hall and is relieved when he hears Elliot follow him but can't divert his eyes when the detective stands there, moments later, staring at the contents of Olivia's locker and how the top shelf is full of things that belong to him. There's a t-shirt, a folded sports bra on top of it and he realises that she would have used his old t-shirt for running. His heart is cramping dangerously and he releases a shaky breath as Nick carefully reaches in and pulls a dry shirt of the shelf and hands it to Elliot. He closes the locker and the sound of the metal slamming shut seems to once again pull him back to reality. There was a NYPD hoodie in there that was definitely his too he thinks as he gets changed with shaky hands, and Nick waits somewhat impatiently in the doorway and the strange headache is pushing back into his world.

Somehow something feels so odd. So wrong, and not in the way he had expected.

"I'm Amaro. Detective Nick Amaro," the dark haired man says from his place in the door and Elliot looks at him through dark eyes before nodding slightly.

"I..." but Elliot can't finish because the sound of what he thinks is Fin half shouting to Munch throws him off track.

"Look, Stabler... Detective," Nick says bowing his head slightly in respect, "you look like you have been through quite an ordeal, and now that you are dry I was hoping you-"

But that's definitely Fin coming into the squad room and Elliot tears his eyes from Nick and pushes past him. There is a growl in his throat. There is a scream in his head, bouncing off the sore inner walls of his scull and he thinks it is hers. It doesn't sound like his own. He rushes back in through the door, spills into the room filled with the low orange light of desk lights in the dusky dark. The clouded skies outside are casting strange shadows over the room and he feels his heart race again. He thinks he can hear it beat - echo in the still squad room, but the scream in his head drowns it out and his nostrils are flaring, his breathing heavy and quick.

"Stabler!" Fin gasps as he drops car keys, his gun and his wet coat on his desk. He's frozen in place, doesn't want to approach the ghost from their past. Not like this. Not while Elliot looks like he has just been possessed by a demon.

"What is going on?" Munch approaches from behind and Elliot turns to look at him and the strange blonde woman wearily walking up behind the older man. Just like Nick had done earlier her hand instinctively goes to her gun but Elliot notices Nick shake his head at her from the other side of the room. He doesn't know if Elliot is armed of course, but he doubts it and either way he is not dangerous.

He hopes.

A sob breaks through the thick air of the room and somewhere in the building a desk phone is ringing. It takes Elliot a moment to realise that it was him that had momentarily broken. He pulls a shaky breath in through his teeth and Fin slowly moves, finally.

"Hey, hey Stabler, we haven't seen you in a while..." he isn't being accusative, he is just trying to approach him and Elliot knows. Something isn't adding up. His mouth goes dry but he croaks it out anyway,

"Fin! She- she's... where is... can I-"

Munch approaches now and Nick and Rollins stand back, letting the former colleagues speak to him on their own.

"Elliot," Munch tries, and he scans over the younger man for visible injuries or trauma that would cause him discomfort. "Can you tell me what brought you back here?" He doesn't take his eyes off of Elliot, but motions for Fin to go get a cup of coffee for him.

"Fin will get you a warm drink, I think we could all use some," he tries to ease the tension, and carefully places a hand on Elliot's tense shoulder. He can feel the muscles under the taught skin tighten and ignores it as he pushes for Elliot to sit.

"We have been out all night, surveilling this apartment block down by Penn South and I thought we were all beat but you do look worse my friend." Munch sees how Elliot shakes his head slightly and confusion mixes with the anger and despair in his eyes.

Fin hands him a cup of coffee and tells him to be careful with it in a voice that he normally reserves for kids Elliot thinks and he blinks down into the cup. He still feels sick and cold and nothing makes sense but at the same time he is terrified to even think- he can't put the thoughts together and he can't say it out loud because if he does it is real and all of a sudden he is swallowing down bile again. Fin mutters to Munch that maybe they should call for a doctor and Elliot can hear him. He just can't bring himself to say anything. It isn't until he sees two large hands land, carefully on his knees that he slowly lifts his gaze from the black liquid before him. Captain Cragen, so familiar despite his aging features, is peering at him from his position on the floor. He had moved across the floor in silence upon his arrival and crouched down in front of his Detective. Former Detective, technically, but he was not a very technical man.

"Elliot."

And that is it and somehow Elliot feels himself get tugged back out, ripped from the shore and thrown back under a cold wave in the raging sea of doubt. He sobs again, can hear himself clearly this time and Cragen brings one of his hands to his shoulder instead, shakes him lightly and tries to get him to look at him again. He is sure Don is about to tell him then, but instead he wants something from him... he is asking him for something. The fog gets thicker.

"Elliot! Elliot, you have to speak to me, you have to let me know what is going on or I can't help you!"

But he isn't listening, instead he seems to suddenly be overcome by a realisation. He needs something and he nearly forgets he is holding a cup of coffee. The drink spills as he scrambles to pat himself down and Fin snatches the cup from him just in time.

"Woah... woah there big man," he mutters and puts the cup down on a nearby desk.

Elliot is trying to pull something from his pocket with shaky hands and Cragen asks Nick if he can call her and he says she should be here any second and Elliot stands up all of a sudden with a roar that's dry and broken and he holds his phone out in front of him, to Cragen, Fin and Munch and Amanda and Nick both walk closer to see what it is that he's showing them. His breathing is ragged and his chest is heaving where he stands just wanting to scream that he knows. He knows what happened and they're pretending like he doesn't need to know. He feels sick as he spits it out, finally.

"Olivia's dead!"

It's like a poison on his tongue and in that moment he remembers every single moment during their 12 years together that he had those exact words ringing like a premonition in his ears as they got called out out of a case and her hand, so small compared to his, grabbed the weapon that indicated that she was about to step out of their world, and into the cruel world outside where she was a target, a shield to the public. He remembers how it became his every day world and how he grew numb and powerless in time with their bond growing. He remembers every single time she disappeared behind a corner or ran down an alley on her own and how his heart would tighten with the knowledge that this was their job he had to continue. He had to just go on. This was meant to be okay, even if it would some day come down to those words.

He can't hear their gasps over his own heavy breathing but the clouds in his mind breaks and spills away when a blinding light suddenly spills into the room. He swears his heart stops beating in his chest and Cragen takes the phone out of his hand just as it goes limp and stares at the image. Nick looks at it over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed. There are pinks and soft pastel yellows bleeding into the thick clouds and she is okay until she breaks through the crowd of her colleagues and sees the pure look of confusion on his face. Only then does she silently start to cry. He blinks at the bright light that is her and he thinks for a heartbreaking second that he might be dreaming.

"Why would I be dead?" she asks, her small hands on his arms now and he wants to laugh. Instead he just chokes on his own words and his eyes take her in, alive, well and breathing. He thinks he is smiling, but she is crying and he shakes his head desperately, no, no, no.

"Don't," he croaks and his voice is hoarse and thick and she just stands there looking at the way his face slowly lights up with relief and the weak, still shocked smile, turns into a grin.

"Elliot!" Cragen tries to get his attention and Nick now holds the phone, continuing to stare at it. "Elliot, where the hell did this picture come from?" The Captain feels for him, he really does. It all makes sense now, and he pushes the thought out of his head that they just had a preview of what would actually happen to their old colleague and friend if they did lose Liv. He had left the job, and she thought he had also left her, but he couldn't, not really.

Elliot wants to hug her, wants to hold her close, close, closer but he is suddenly aware of the fact that he hasn't seen her in years and left her behind without so much as a goodbye and he is not sure if he has the right to touch her. He can't stop grinning though and Liv cocks her head slightly and gingerly reaches out to place her palm on his chest, right over his heart.

"My shirt..." she speaks softly, and he smiles down at her, wants to brush his fingers over her bottom lip as it still trembles.

"Actually, it is my shirt," and he wants to laugh again, wants to bury his face in her hair. She smiles back at him, if only faintly and Cragen tries to get his attention again while Olivia overhears Nick on the phone with a technical team.

"What's going on?" she asks looking from Nick to Cragen and back to Elliot. "El," and the nickname warms her tongue, like hot chocolate. "El, why did you think I was dead?"

"I got a call this morning, just after 6am, he said he was an officer here and that they had tried to contact me earlier but... it made sense, I had taken the boat out. I had no reception, I just... I know how close you have come before, I know you," and he feels immensely proud and ashamed at the same time, because he does know her and while he left to a safer world he left her behind. He clears his throat as it tightens again. "I know how stupid you can be when you think you can save someone, even if it means..." and he can't say it. He doesn't need to.

"Which officer?" Cragen asks and Liv leaves Elliot's side to look at whatever it is Nick is trying to get answers about.

"He said his name was Officer Cook, and I... I know it was stupid but he had so many details Captain! He spoke about the autopsy and he just knew so much of her medical and work history and," Elliot's voice grew darker, "he spoke of her in a way that made no sense, unless... unless-"

"He could describe her to you in great detail? Details about her that only you would know?" Fin inquired and Elliot shuffled his feet while Olivia looked at him skeptically from her spot next to Nick.

"No, yes... Look it's not like that, I mean obviously I am not the only one that would know-"

Olivia was glaring at him and he almost wanted to smile again because he had missed her so much and she loved it when she got annoyed with him like that.

"And don't look at me like that guys, I didn't say I know because Liv and I... look, Captain it doesn't matter. I have fished her off the ground and looked for bullets before. I have pumped water out of her lungs and I have gotten her out of freezing wet clothes to save her from getting pneumonia. If the bastard wanted to quiz me on body features he could. I know her well is all I am saying, inside and out. When he spoke about the autopsy it made sense to me."

"And the picture?" Liv asks him, looking at it herself again. She did indeed look awfully dead in it.

"It was sent to me just after. I know you guys must think I have lost my mind, and that I shouldn't have believed him but it felt so real. It isn't like it was impossible and then when the picture showed up I just couldn't think straight anymore. I swear that is Liv in that picture!"

"It is," Nick says then, just getting off the phone again. "I forwarded it to the technical lab, and we need to get them the entire phone ASAP but for now what they can tell us is that it has been modified in some way, probably Photoshop or some other editing software. It is definitely Liv though, because I know where this would have been taken."

"Where?" Cragen demands and Olivia nods.

"I know too. This is that roof, of the hotel... a couple of weeks ago."

Cragen nods, he remembers, he got called out to the hospital afterwards and was relieved it was only a mild concussion. He had spent an hour with Nick afterwards telling him it wasn't his fault and that he had done well to get his partner to safety. It could have been so much worse he'd told him over a cup of almost criminally bad hospital coffee.

"One of the maids had been raped and one of the guys on reception ran when we tried to speak to him," Liv fills in for Elliot. "We chased him up on the roof and he got me over the head with a pipe."

Nick holds the phone up as he speaks to his colleagues, eyes on Elliot. "This picture, was taken on that roof before I managed to get to her. She fell back, unconscious and while she was bruised and needed a trip to the ER this picture you were sent has been heavily edited. Someone has made it look like she has been shot to death. We just need to find out who."

"The bastard on the roof?" Fin suggests, but Nick shakes his head.

"No way he had time to take that picture before he crashed over the edge. He panicked after Liv went down and lost his footing. The police peeled him off the car he landed on 10 stories down while I carried Benson down to the bus."

"He's dead?" Elliot asks, not sure of which answer he would most like to hear.

"Yep," Nick nods, "he died in hospital a few hours later. He never came to, so no one got the chance to speak to him. We found the maid's DNA under his fingernails, and hers under his, but the semen was not a match. If he raped her he wore a condom, and someone else joined in but didn't."

"Or he wasn't our guy at all," Munch suggests and Nick shrugs.

"I should have known this could all have been someone playing games with me when I received the picture..." Elliot mumbles and sits down on the chair again, suddenly exhausted.

"It is a strange thing for the police to send out," Amanda adds softly, aware that Elliot has a long history with this team and that she has never met the man before. She doesn't want to start off their acquaintance with insulting him.

Elliot gets what she is saying and doesn't blame her.

"I know," he nods, "and I did figure when it came that he probably wasn't a police officer. Even the detail he went into about her death though conveyed to a partner was so precise it was cruel. By then it was too late though and I figured it didn't change Liv's fate. She was dead no matter who had delivered the message to me."

"Only she wasn't!" Nick mutters and seals the phone in a plastic evidence bag and tags it for transport over to the technical lab to keep himself busy. It feels strange listening to Stabler speak about this, about his partner because she is now. She is his partner and he can't help but wonder if something did happen to her, who would be contacted first, him or Stabler?

"I'll see what we can find out from the phone," he continuous quietly, and Amanda looks at Liv, more out of principal than anything else and waits for her nod to say she is staying put so Rollins can go with him if she wants.

"Okay," Amanda replies to the silent request from Olivia as she motions towards Nick. "I'll go with him."

Elliot puts it together, he's been in their shoes, sat at these desks and worked the same streets. There is a warm ball in his stomach, melting away the nausea and ice that's been lodged there for so many hours now, when he recognises that Liv just sent Amanda out to pass on her partner duties to Nick to stay with him. Part of him knows he would have counted on her doing that, and that makes him feel a little bit arrogant and guilty... after all she doesn't owe him any of her loyalty. Not after he made it damn clear to her that she couldn't rely on him to always make that choice.

Hours pass and they don't seem to really get any closer to solving who set Elliot up.

"It is really hard to pin down exactly who is the special victim here," Barba says while looking over their board of leads so far. He turns back around and shrugs. "I mean, obviously something is going on, but right now it looks more like someone played a cruel prank on Detective Stabler than anything else."

"Could it be a warning of some sort?" Amanda asks and Liv paces the room.

"If someone wanted to threaten me, why not actually just threaten me, why contact Elliot?"

"If it was meant as some sort of warning or threat to Benson whoever did it sure had faith in Stabler actually doing something about it," Nick says and Elliot grunts in disapproval.

"Why wouldn't I? Why the hell would I be told Liv was dead and just go about my life as normal?"

"Look man, all I am saying is that maybe someone wanted to lure you back to town? Or away from something? Distract you?"

"Kathy and the kids?" Olivia asks, and it feels strange saying Kathy's name again after all these years.

"I have already checked in on them, they're fine."

"Then I am afraid we might have to put this on hold for now," Cragen says and he looks at the time. "It is getting late, you guys might as well head home for some rest and if the tech guys come up with some lead on who sent the picture they will let us know and we can have a look at it in the morning."

Barba stops Nick as they all go to gather their things.

"Amaro, I need a sec with you or Liv on the Cortez case... I almost forgot that that was my actual reason for stopping by," he smiles and Nick motions for him to join him in one of the interview rooms.

"Sure, why don't we sit down for now, and I will fill Benson in later."

Elliot lingers in the squad room, can't decide if he misses coming here or not... and he almost jumps when he feels a small, familiar hand on his arm. It slides down his bicep and just as suddenly as she was close, she is walking away again but she turns towards him as she walks and calls out to him "you're staying?"

He is confused for just a second, is he staying where? But then he gets what she means, and he looks at her, curious... would she really want him to?

"It's been so long," she says, her voice lower, and he can feel Fin's eyes burning into the back of his head as he smiles back at her. He gets now, with some distance to it all, why people might have thought they were hooking up back then. He's never noticed before how they speak to each other. The words they use and the words they don't use at all, don't need to. She disappears down the hall, to get changed or get something, and he takes a deep breath and turns around as he can feel Fin come up behind him. Close.

"Stabler," he says and Elliot just looks at him. "Do you need me to remind you?"

And Elliot is annoyed, because really, do they all think he is blissfully unaware of what he left behind and how badly he has dealt with it?

"Of the pirate code?" Elliot tries to brush the subject aside, doesn't really want to talk about it. "Just let it go Fin, Liv and I-"

"I am sure the lines got a bit blurred while you commandeered, plundered and changed rules to guidelines but the rest of us are actual police officers with actual partnerships. Why don't you take that seriously just for today!" Fin growled and Elliot groaned at him, angrily.

"Look at me, Fin, do I look like a man who has not had a serious day today?"

"I am just saying man, be damn careful with her this time."

Elliot sighs, knows Fin is right, but can't stand the way he is rubbing it in his face.

"No one is more careful with her than I am!" he grinds out through gritted teeth and he almost wants Fin to punch him in the face then, because he knows damn well that though that might have been his intention he sure screwed her over.

"You're forgetting who was left to pick up the pieces." And Fin looks at him, long and hard, and Elliot knows Fin is actually quite happy to see him. He knows the circumstances just suck and that he did not leave any of them with the explanation and the goodbyes and thank yous that they deserved. "You're not her partner anymore. Don't give her actual partner an excuse to come get her tonight, is all."

Nick and Barba are standing over at Nick's desk now, and Elliot knows he's heard but notes that Nick doesn't say anything at that. He does however speak up as Liv comes back with her bag, ready to head out, and Elliot can't help but stare at them as Nick takes her into his arms for a moment asking her to call him if she needs anything, and he thinks he is looking right at him when he assures her that really, he is always free if she needs him to swing by, but he might have imagined that.

It is a nice thing for someone to say, and she deserves the very best people. She deserves people that looks after her, and that cares and yet it stings and burns his insides like an angry little fire and Fin turns around and heads out just like that and Elliot feels lonely all of a sudden. Abandoned. The nausea from before creeps back into his stomach. He chose to walk away from them, from her, and he can't even imagine how lonely she will have felt when she stepped out onto those streets with him all of a sudden no longer there to watch her back.

He still hates the day he told her he shouldn't have to... that watching her back was not what he should have to spend his time on the job doing. It was a ridiculous lie that he knew had hurt her immensely and as she stands there now, pushing a section of her hair behind her ear, watching him, he wants to go back to that very day and take it all back, make it un-done. He wants to kiss the palm of her hand and tell her he's feeling guilty and powerless and like he isn't good enough but that he will never regret anything he ever does to keep her safe.

"I can grab a cab, if your partner doesn't want me to-" and the words are tearing at his soul, scratching the inside of his mouth as he says them. He is pushing this for no reason at all, and he knows it. Inside, a small voice is telling him to drop it but anger is crawling under his skin. It doesn't make a difference that he is mostly just angry at himself.

Olivia just rolls her eyes and throws an apologetic look Nick's way.

"Why would he? Everyone isn't as jealous and over protective as you El."

"She's probably right about the jealousy," Nick says pushing past Elliot on his way out through the door, but before he disappears out the door he calls back "but I wouldn't count on me not being just as over protective!" and Elliot knows. Elliot used to be the one with that responsibility. He hears how serious he is and he knows Liv thinks it is silly and boyish and macho crap but it's not.

In his mind he can still recall the dead version of his partner, with her skin pale and cold and her chest covered in blood. The Olivia from the photo that wasn't real. The Olivia he believed had found her final destination in life to be the morgue. She drives them home though, very much alive, and he resists the urge to reach out and touch her - all the time.

"Maybe you had a hotel in mind?" She asks, all of a sudden a bit self-conscious and he realises that maybe he had been staring at her a bit too much. He smiles and shakes his head.

"No, I... I never quite got that far. It didn't matter. I didn't think I would be leaving your side, well your body, for a while so..."

"El," she starts but he stops her.

"Shh, it doesn't matter. I am sure I can find a hotel room though. It is a pretty big city," and he peers through the window on the passenger seat of her car, up at the street lights, and watches the tall buildings eat away at the starry sky. It is still windy, and he can hear it howl and screech, trees bending and pedestrians fighting against the force with their umbrellas and pulling scarves and coats closer around their bodies.

"You can stay with me." Liv says matter of factly and Elliot wonders a little about why but won't complain. He thought he had lost her forever this morning, couldn't wrap his broken heart and muddled mind around why no one else was on their knees crying over their dead colleague when he felt like he just wanted to throw his splattered heart up all over his shoes. The more alive time he got with her right now, the better, he decided.

"I don't want to be in your way though," he says still. He isn't a complete asshole. He cares about her enough for him to still make sure she was serious about her proposition.

"I won't argue with you over this tonight, El," and her voice is soft and gentle and he wants to wrap her voice around him like a blanket and sleep in it for days.

"So I bet you're happy you get to return to some normal case tomorrow then?" he asks her, beer in hand, on her sofa, a couple of hours later.

"I don't think anyone is ever happy to know another rape has occurred," she says but she knows what he means. "But I will be happy to know that you're not crying over my dead body somewhere tomorrow. I think once is enough."

"I don't know where you got that idea from..." he says, his face pulling into a grimace. "I... that's not- Okay. Yeah I was crying."

She laughs softly and he is thankful for it. It feels strange, but so good that their run in with her death wasn't as permanent as it could have been.

"I'm glad you are here," she says then and both of them are aware of the fact that if he had just turned up like this under any other circumstances she would have been a lot more guarded around him. She would have been pissed off and not glad, and he would have been defensive and frustrated, not thankful.

"I'm sorry I haven't come back to see you sooner," he says though, and it is the truth. He is sorry. She doesn't say anything, because it is truth, and there isn't really anything to add. She has no words of comfort for him to make it feel better, or to make him feel less guilty.

"I still wonder who set you up though," and she sips her wine. "Who would put so much effort into a prank, and why this one... why you and me?"

He likes those words, you and me, in the same sentence, like that, coming out of her mouth. He savors the sound, locks it away in his mind to keep forever.

"Some sick idiot thought it was funny I guess."

She doesn't know though. She isn't convinced, and she doesn't think he is either.

She offers him the bed, mostly for the sake of it, because she knows full well that he will never accept it. He almost looks offended even and she half smiles at him, because really she was serious. She would be fine on the couch.

"What kind of man do you think I am? Have you completely forgotten who I am?" he rants while he pulls his jeans off and before she has time to protest again he has taken the sheets and blankets from her arms and is making up his bed on the sofa. "Take your bed from you..." he mutters like it is the craziest idea he has ever heard and she laughs as she walks back into her room to at least get him some extra pillows. He catches the "crazy fool" she whispers under her breath and he knows she is amused.

Everything feels so familiar that he almost forgets how he ended up here when she sits on his legs, in her pajamas and knitted socks, and that damn gray knitted cardigan on top. She's watching the film that's playing on the TV and he stretches underneath her, making her laugh. Even with her weight on his legs he can easily move and to get another laugh out of her he lifts his legs slightly, so that she lifts off the couch too and she slaps his knee.

"Stop that!" she protests but her eyes are warm. He lies still again, and lies back, returning his attention to the film. When it is over he helps her clear up, and then walks her back to her bedroom. He closes her blinds and pulls her covers back for her and he isn't sure why, he just does and he always has when he's been around for bedtime. It hasn't been often of course, but when she has been ill, or either of them have been upset after a tough day and he's stayed. She gets into bed and he wants to actually tuck her in, kiss her on the head and tell her how happy he is that he was wrong but he thinks she knows, he hopes so, and instead he just hovers in the doorway, promises her that yes, he will be okay on the couch. He asks for her permission to switch the light off, and she nods and sighs into the darkness. Her alarm is set for 5.30am and she can tell he's still standing there, in the doorway, for a little bit longer. He is about to go when she asks him, "El," her voice is soft and careful, "will you come into work with me tomorrow?"

It is a funny way of asking him when he is planning on bailing on her again, and he knows that what she actually means is 'will you still be here tomorrow when I wake up?' it's just that Olivia Benson is a very proud, independent and guarded woman who wouldn't be caught dead begging him to stay.

"Will you call me El, all day?"

"Yeah," she says innocently and he grins into the darkness.

"Wouldn't miss another day with you for the world. Good night Liv."

Thanks for reading. Reviews/feedback welcomed of course.

There is a second chapter of this to anyone interested, with the actual answer to who tricked Elliot and why. Otherwise it can be seen as a stand-alone dealing with Elliot's return.