Chapter Text
“Hey Liv. It’s me. An old case of ours just left me a message and… I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice. Call me.”
He wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this for. Coming from one day after another of his undercover cases to a quiet house; his day consisting mostly of working out, eating from cans, going back home to Mama who was slowly fading away day by day. Yesterday she had shoved him aside for the first time, begging to see Randall. His estranged brother had not been seen for decades, and now here she was calling out for him instead of Elliot, who had been taking care of her for the past two years.
He barely saw his children anymore, except for Eli, and the progress was slow in this new UC case. Part of him wanted to just leave. Go back to Rome, back to the warmth of the villa they had stayed at; the golden hues of summer and the family whole. But everything had changed. Kathy was gone. Bernie’s dementia was getting worse every day. Eli was closing off to him. He was exhausted.
But then there was Liv. Perhaps the one solid thing he could count on to be a constant force in his life, aside from his family. Someone who, upon her word, he would drop everything and run back to.
He thought of her constantly. With each miserable day he spent working this case, he spent half of it imagining his return back to New York. Back to SVU. Back to the comfort, and familiarity of his old city. So when Ayanna told him he was done for this case, that there was nothing more he needed to contribute, he had packed his bags, moved back into the old apartment that Kathleen and Maureen had decorated, and took Bernie back with him.
—
“I thought that if I heard your voice… I wouldn’t be able to leave.”
“...I just wanted to hear your voice. Call me.”
Olivia put the phone down from her ear, his message ending with a click of the voicemail.
She was conflicted when it came to him. She knew they were making progress, that she was making progress, letting him back into her life slowly. These past few months were busy and work-occupied, and the last week had barely given her a chance to breathe. He had gone undercover for the past two months, leaving her with the cold feeling of his absence but the heavy weight of the compass around her neck, reminding her he was coming back this time.
He had told her. He wouldn't leave again. And although a part of her feared for the moment she would get the call that he had abandoned her again, another part of her knew that even if he did, she would recover this time. She had Noah, the squad, a family.
But she missed him. They were still rebuilding their friendship but she knew a part of her was already putting walls down, letting him in. The way she would touch the compass whenever Maddie’s case got to her, playing with the gold pendant and chain soothed her more than she would ever admit. But she had told him she wasn’t ready for anything major in their relationship four months ago.
I know you were just trying to make me feel safe.
And he had agreed, smiling. But she knew. The way he searched her eyes, wondering what it was she really felt. And she didn’t know either. There was something more growing between them and she had tried to push it down for months. With Kathy, it had been easy. She was like a wall that stood between them that she never dared cross. Never wanted to. She was content with Elliot and Kathy and their family and her on the side, looking through a sort of glass window into his life, being a large part of it sometimes. But now Kathy was gone. And that made it all the more terrifying.
She had tried returning his calls, which were few, but still an effort for him being undercover, but they never seemed to get to talk at the same time. She was beginning to hate the static-y voicemails she would get, the automated machine telling her to “leave a message”. She just wanted to talk to him. About Maddie, about the baptism, about everything. He would know what to say, what to do to make her feel better after a week of this horrendous case. So she decided, as soon as she ended that day, to pay him a visit back at the house.
//
He was greeted by a quiet house, the same as it had been for the past couple days he got back.
When he stepped inside the door, he was greeted by Antonia’s muffled snoring, a clock ticking from the living room. Just perfect. The caretaker for his mother falling asleep on the job.
“Antonia. Antonia!” He woke her up, his heart picking up a beat when he didn’t see Bernie in her usual spot in her bedroom. “Where’s my mom?”
“Asleep! Is she not in her room?”
“No, she’s not in her room. Mama?” He stuck his head in the studio, then unlocked the patio door, seeing her flash of white hair. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw she had not made it far.
“Elliot?” Bernie murmured, glancing around like she forgot where she was.
“Mama. C’mon back inside. It’s cold out here.” He coaxed her, placing a hand on her shoulders.
Stubbornly, she moved away, searching again. “Elliot, where’s Randall?? I told you I wanted Randall.”
He huffed out a quick, “Mama, remember Randall doesn’t live with you anymore. You live with me. We’re back in New York City.”
“Where is he? I just saw him, so don’t tell me I didn’t!” Her voice rose, tinged with something like panic.
“Mama please, let’s go back inside.” He urged, holding onto her arm.
“Let me go, Elliot! I want Randall-”
“Elliot?”
The soft voice greeted him first, then he saw the flash of her brown hair from behind the fence.
He quickly turned, recognizing her voice anywhere. Olivia stood, concern in her face, draped in a long black trench coat five feet away. Her hair was darker, and longer, in a way that brought out the brown in her eyes more.
“Liv.” He breathed, his first sight of her in months being almost like a breath of fresh air. If it was anyone else seeing his mother in this state he would’ve had them leave immediately. But it was her. It was Liv.
“Is everything alright?” She glanced at Bernie, then back to him. “Bernie? Are you all good?” She held out her hand, placing it on his mother’s back.
He had grown back his beard, she noticed. And was already causing commotion that could be heard from where she had gotten out of her car. She was worried.
“Olivia. I just wanted Randall, but he won’t let me see him! He won’t let me-”
“Okay, Bernie. Okay. Who’s Randall?”
She was doing the thing they did with survivors for their cases. The furrowed brows, the understanding and empathy, the softness in the voice. He always admired that about her - how she was able to connect with every survivor and every victim of their cases.
“My brother.” Elliot sighed.
Oh. Her eyes said. He had told her of a brother who had left the family and stopped calling decades ago, of how it had nearly broken Bernie. But she was better now, he had reassured her before.
She searched his eyes with understanding, the confusion fading from her face. She knew what was happening, and had dealt with this before. But not with someone as personal as his mother. There was exhaustion in his eyes, a faint dark spot that seemed to be healing around his left eye. He must’ve only gotten back recently. She knew about the exhaustion that came with undercover cases, especially those with Organized Crime cases. And now having Bernie in her current state. She could tell right away the dementia was much worse than she remembered. She must’ve gotten worse when he left.
“Alright, Bernie. We’ll find Randall, okay? Maybe not tonight, since it’s pretty late. How about we all go back inside. Go back to bed, I’ll get you a cup of tea, and then we can talk more about this in the morning, hm?”
Bernie relaxed, shoulders un-tensing, allowing Elliot and Liv to walk her back into the warmth of the house. Olivia watched as he led his mother into her room, hearing muffled sounds of talking as she settled herself into one of the chairs around the kitchen island.
He came back out a few moments later, looking absolutely drained. The bags under his eyes seemed more prominent in the brighter light of the kitchen, the purplish bruise appearing darker.
“Hey, I know you’re tired. Want me to just come back in the morning?” She asked, her voice quiet and understanding and searching for any hints that he wanted her to leave.
That was the last thing he wanted tonight. Instead he shook his head, reaching out a hand to her. She stood from where she was seated on the barstool, taking his hand. “C’mere.” He whispered softly, pulling her into his arms. She allowed him to draw her close, his arms wrapping around her lower back, hers looping around his neck.
They had been doing this more often now over the past year than in the 25 years they had known each other - the hugging. First when he had picked up Noah from school when the BX9 case was happening, and then again in the hospital after she got shot. And each time she fell more into it, like it was something they should have been doing more in the past. There was no feeling that could compare to being pressed tightly together with him after him being gone for so long. And with each embrace she felt she was sinking more into him, taking apart the wall that she had built up inside her brick by brick.
She rubbed the back of his neck gently, trying to soothe away what he must be feeling, and also relishing the feeling of being in his arms for the first time in months.
“Hi.” She murmured against him, as he tucked his face into the crook of her neck, breathing deeply. Her voice was muffled in his shoulder, and he let the warmth of it chase away the memory of what had just happened.
“Thanks for that, Liv. Really.” He muttered into her hair, swaying them gently.
“Mhm. So. You’re back.”
He opened his eyes, pulling away from the embrace. He nodded, “I’m back. I’m sorry you had to see that, Liv.”
She placed her hands on his arms, shaking her head. “No, Elliot. I’m sorry. I didn’t know she had gotten worse,” squeezing him.
“She’s been asking for Randall for a week, and I try to tell her each time. But nothing works.” He runs a hand over his face.
“Well, have you tried calling him, maybe? Letting him know?”
“I haven’t. And I don’t want to, after what he did. But I don’t know how much longer I can hold off with how she’s been lately.” He said, shaking his head.
He looks back down at her, and he can see the worry clouding her eyes. He knows what he probably looks like - a disaster. Especially after these last two weeks and the black eye that’s only begun to heal. She touches the outline of the cut across his forehead, still new and fresh, and probably looking like he had just gotten beat up. But with her there, it almost feels like he can get through the next few days. The way he held her in his arms just moments ago was enough to give him the courage to finally reach out to his brother. He had let her warmth, the comfort of her perfume lull him back to himself, even for just a moment.
“That cut looks bad.” She murmurs, eyes raking over the jagged scar and crudely placed stitches, mirroring the conversation they’d had months ago in this same place.
“I’ll get the hydrogen peroxide later.” He rolls his eyes playfully, watching her in amusement as she recalls the time she had been here before. He looks down between them, seeing the compass he gave her dangling around her neck, and then back to her eyes, a hint of a smile on them.
“You’re wearing it,” He says plainly, something she can’t quite place in his voice.
“What- Oh.” Her fingers drift to her chest where the pendant sits, her reminder of him. “Course I’m wearing it. Remember I did tell you, I like small boxes. And the things inside them.” She smiles. He chuckles back, looking at her with warmth in his eyes.
“How was your case? Undercover? Haven’t done that for a while.” She says, following suit as he pulls out the barstool beside her and sits, facing each other.
“Same as it was before. Undercover is undercover.” He shrugs, smiling ruefully. She does understand. Undercover ops take days to recover from sometimes.
“But you’re holding up? I don’t know how long you’ll be back for this time, but really, Elliot, just call me. If you need help with Bernie, or with Eli-”
“I’m fine Liv.” He cuts her off.
“Elliot-”
“No, really. It’s alright. We can manage.” He reaches out, squeezing her hand gently.
Just you being here, right now - it’s enough.
She presses her mouth into a thin smile, meeting his eyes. “I’ll still call.”
“I know you will. And I will too. We just keep missing each other on the phone.”
She nods, looking off to the side absently.
“Hey, I saw you on TV the other day.” He grins proudly. “Solved a year-old case, with that missing girl? Good for you, partner.”
She chuckles, licking her lips. “Well. When you solve yours I’m sure I’ll see you on TV as well.”
Quietly, Maddie’s case comes creeping back into her mind, sobering her up a little. “Still haven’t solved the other case yet, though.” She shakes her head, looking at the floor.
“What other case?”
“Maddie. Same thing as the other case. Missing teenage girl, disappeared when she was with her parents at a grocery store. She was paid to be kidnapped by some guy from a sex doll company. It’s sickening.” She says, anger clouding her expression.
He’s quiet for a while, searching her face. Something’s different about this case, though. He can tell from her expression alone. “But there’s more. What is it?”
She glances back up at him, seeing how he’s already read her like an open book. “It’s just- I saw her.”
He raises his brows. “What d’you mean?”
“That day, when she went missing. I was driving back from Amanda’s baby’s baptism and saw Maddie in the car with that man. And I knew something was wrong. I just had this feeling.” She breathes. “But I kept on driving. Noah was in the car with me, but I got the call right after I dropped him off back home.”
“Liv it’s not your fault.” He places a hand on her knee, squeezing, trying to get her to listen to him.
“I should have pulled them over. It was a teenager for god’s sake, in the front seat of a vandalized van with a 30 year old man driving. If that isn’t a red flag then I don’t know what is.”
“Olivia. It’s not on you.” He says again, knowing how much she blames herself for this case. She meets his eyes, finally, unshed tears glistening in them.
“Everyone keeps telling me it’s not my fault. But the truth is, Elliot, if I had pulled them over this wouldn’t even be a case. Her mother wouldn’t have to sit outside my office everyday identifying clothes, hairpins, and bracelets that could’ve been hers. We wouldn’t have to go and find sex dolls that look exactly like her littered all over New York.”
She places a hand on her forehead, massaging her temples. Ever since that day she has fully felt in herself she could have prevented it. And now it’s building up inside her, threatening to all come out here, in Elliot’s flat in the middle of the night. She looks up at him, feeling horrible about having to unload all this on him now, even as she knows he’s fighting his own battles with Bernie.
Wordlessly, he shifts the chair closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Again, he’s her quiet source of comfort. And so she gives in, leaning her head against his jaw, as he rubs slow circles on her arm.
“I’m sorry.” She whispers into him, closing her eyes. “I shouldn’t be breaking down like this, not now.” She shakes her head, swiping under her eyes with a finger.
“It’s okay, Liv. Alright, say you pulled them over. It wouldn’t be a case. But then you wouldn’t have found that other girl in time. She would’ve probably died in the water. And you were with Noah, too, that day. We don’t know what could’ve happened if you pulled him over with your son in the car. It would have been risky for the two of you.”
She nods against him, and he presses his mouth into her hair gently. The proximity is not unfamiliar for the two of them, granted what had happened last winter almost a year ago, but for whatever reason, it doesn't feel as wrong as it did before. She leans into him a bit, letting him know that she appreciates the gesture.
“It’s not on you. It’s on the people who chose to do this. You know that.” He pulls her back, a hand on her shoulder, making sure she understands.
“Yeah. I know, El. I know.” She sighs, focusing her gaze on him for a moment, before finally pulling away, clearing her throat and noticing the closeness between them, feels the way his lips linger on her temple a little longer than a friendly caress. She feels the heat rising up her neck, her heart speeding up a little. They haven’t been this close to each other since that night in her apartment.
She quickly washes out any thoughts in her head, swallowing down the feeling. “Thanks, El. I just wanted to see you again, y’know, after your case.” She smiles lightly, beginning to get up and walk herself out for the night.
“So did I, Liv. I thought about you, you know. About us, when I finally came back.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
Us. This newly recovered friendship? As partners? Or… us. She did, too. About all of it.
She nodded, not specifying, yet understanding what he meant. “Me too.” She whispered softly.
He seemed content with that, looking at her with almost a smile in his eyes, knowing she understood. “Alright…”
“I’ll try to call you? Tomorrow?” She offers, raising her brows.
“‘Course. Thanks, Liv. For earlier. If you were anyone else I’d have kicked you out.”
He hugs her into his side once more, the last for the night, and she wraps an arm around him, smiling to herself how normal it feels.
She chuckles. “I know you would’ve. And also put something on your face for that cut!” She calls out to him outside, walking to her car.
He laughs, watching her step inside the black range rover and drive away.
Having her near him tonight was enough.
—