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Olivia is convinced. Elliot is clearly trying to put her into a premature grave next to her mother.
First, it was those three little words before he went under again. Next, it was him versus a Mack truck, leading to him nearly dying and being in a fucking coma. But did he take it seriously? No. Did he even heed the orders and take the time off that the people in the white coats recommended? Hell no. And lastly, after he ignored said orders, did he find himself back in the hospital after being stabbed on an op he wasn’t medically cleared for?
Abso-fucking-lutely.
Which is where, of course, the good captain finds herself. Standing at his bedside, once again, less than a week after the man was circling the drain and telling her about a promise he made to the ghost of a little girl he couldn’t manage to save. Olivia doesn’t know why Cragen bothered with psych evals all those years ago. Between the two former partners, the mental instability is obvious. Because she’s just as nuts for springing him from the hospital in the first place.
She watches him as he gets the rest he should’ve gotten after being t-boned by a multi-ton vehicle. Elliot doesn’t stir. His face remains without scowl or other expression, but thanks to age, worry lines persist. Olivia quietly admires the strength he exudes, even at rest. From his untamed eyebrows to his previously broken Irish nose to the cut of his jawline, he’s wholly masculine.
The curve of his biceps peeks from beneath the short-sleeved hospital gown, and veins weave themselves down his forearms and into the tops of his large hands. Olivia gathers one in her palm, rubbing small circles over the calluses of his knuckles. She can see movement beneath his lids, the R.E.M. of a dream state. Minutes later, as if sensing her presence, Olivia is staring at steel blue irises, slowly but intently focused on her face.
“Elliot.”
“Hey.”
“Do you remember when you asked me just days ago if I was scared when I got that call?”
“Course.”
“I fucking lied.”
“Liv I—
“—Don’t say you’re sorry,” Olivia interrupts, releasing him. “It implies that you won’t do something just as ill-advised or reckless next week, and we both know that’s bullshit.”
“For scaring you, Liv,” he tells her, taking hold of her hand. “I’m sorry for scaring you because I know how it feels.”
“And as much as I’d love to ask why you do it…”
“You already know,” Elliot answers, smirking.
“Yeah,” she confirms. “And I really hate that I understand it.”
“Not just understand it, but would likely do the same damn thing?”
“There is that.”
It’s Elliot’s turn to rub small circles over her knuckles. He pulls her closer, letting the smirk turn into a full grin.
“What’s that look about?” Olivia asks.
“What look is that, Captain?”
She blushes as “the look” intensifies, but doesn’t answer.
“You feeling uninhibited since—”
“—Since I said, I love you?” He asks, making her eyes grow large.
That was NOT what she was going to say.
“No. Since you survived a major car accident and a serious stabbing in the same week.”
“Either way, the answer is yes,” Elliot says. “And…I like your hair like that.”
“You’ve seen many variations of my hair in a ponytail.”
“Looks different today,” he says, managing a shrug. “And the leather jacket? Very nice,” he adds, looking her over.
“Should I get a nurse in here?” Olivia asks. “Clearly there’s been a dangerous level of blood loss.”
“I’m fine.”
To prove his point, he releases her hand to find the remote to the bed. He powers it up until he’s sitting nearly forty-five degrees, about fifteen degrees too far for his abdominal injury. Elliot winces, and she’s instantly sitting next to his thigh.
“You don’t seem fine, El,” Olivia points out. “Maybe I should find a nurse to give you something for the pain.”
“They gave me something earlier,” he says. “I raised the bed too far,” he explains. “My stomach is just a dull ache right now,” he adds. “But you wanna know what would make me feel better?”
“I’m scared to ask.”
“Don’t be,” he offers, taking her hand in his again.
“Okay,” Olivia says, acquiescing like they both knew she would. “What would make you feel better?”
“Get in bed with me?”
Her laugh is immediate.
“For the third time, should I call a nurse?”
“I’m not asking you to get naked.”
“I hope not, you haven’t even taken me on a date and—”
“—That’s something we can do now?” Elliot asks, smiling again.
“Focus, Stabler,” she tells him. “And clarify.”
“I mean, it’s like you said,” he begins. “I almost died twice in a matter of days, and even if I switched to working in traffic control, my track record says it’s gonna happen again,” he continues. “So…before it does, I’d really like to see what holding you feels like.”
Olivia takes a few moments contemplating the ask. Elliot isn’t the only one who’s had at least three brushes with death too many. She’s been shot, stabbed, poisoned, kidnapped, and taken hostage. Any one of those incidents could’ve been her last day above ground. Some so long ago she would’ve never seen Noah become her son, or heard her former partner’s true feelings.
And though she has loyal friends, the depth of loneliness she feels in dark moments has made her moody teenager and unpredictable former partner, lifelines she’s glad came along, or in Elliot’s case, returned at just the right time. He looks like he’s about to backtrack his request when she speaks up.
“Okay,” she nearly whispers. “But my shoes stay on, and I don’t get under the blanket with you.”
“Got it,” he happily agrees. “Strictly above the blanket action.”
Olivia shakes her head at his ridiculousness as she goes to the opposite side of his wound. She’s careful when laying her head on his shoulder and her palm against his chest. Despite the inherent chill of hospitals, he’s warm lying next to her. And, a combination of hospital soap and remnants of his aftershave comes together to create a unique scent belonging solely to him.
She takes a deep inhale, lets being there with Elliot like this wash over her, and smiles despite the circumstances that got them here.
“So,” Olivia begins. “How does it feel?”
“Holding you?”
“Yeah.”
Elliot gingerly rakes his fingers through her hair. A moment later, his warm breath is against her crown, along with the feel of his lips. But the curiosity of what he tastes like isn’t enough to move, to elevate a moment of mutual comfort into something else. Their first kiss will not be in a hospital room, but she knows it’s quickly approaching.
“It feels…right, Liv,” he answers, taking his own moment. “Perfect.”
"They did give you the good stuff."
Elliot laughs but pulls her tighter against him.
"And," she begins, seriously. "I'm glad you're still here."
"Nowhere else I'd rather be."
At that, Olivia closed her eyes with the intent of resting for just a few minutes. Two hours later, when the nurse comes by to do his rounds, he finds a couple of world-weary cops, clinging together in slumber. He stays just along to see the rise and fall of Elliot's chest before quietly backing out of the room.
The End.