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Elliot Stabler sat in his own home, in their home, holding his wrinkled hand in hers as she laid in a modified hospital bed. The chair he was in was woefully inadequate, and his back ached. It was a dining chair, and he was slumped, but he wouldn't move until the hospice nurse arrived with more pain medication. He tried not to cry. If she woke, he didn't want her to see him cry.
It was ironic, he thought, that this was the purpose of love. To stay with someone when things were hard, to hold them as they faded. He would not move, but he selfishly wished that it was she holding him. His first marriage lasted almost forty years, his second almost twenty. It wasn't enough. It wasn't fair.
He watched Kathy fade quickly, and now he was watching Olivia fade, slowly. Why couldn't it be him this time? He thought it would be. He was older, by a little bit, but it was an aggressive cancer that took hold almost five years ago. Ovarian. A cancer that grew in Olivia after menopause. She didn't even need her goddamn ovaries at her age, but they didn't know it was there, not until it was too late.
Treatment worked. There was a remission, but then more symptoms, in her lymphatic system, her bowels. So much pain - with treatment, without it. Six months, maybe, if she fought, but she didn't want to fight again. She called it a losing battle, said he needed to look at it as one, but he couldn't. It was the most fearsome argument they had that didn't happen years ago, in the aftermath of his abandonment.
So, he prayed. Deep down, he knew it was pointless. Deep down, he didn't know what he believed anymore, about God, about life, about death. What he knew was that everybody dies. No one lives forever. He wished he could rely on his faith, believe that she would go to heaven, follow the dogma that guided his life for so long, but he couldn't.
See, his dogma told him that she might not go to heaven because she was never baptized. It told him that his youngest son, Noah, would go to hell because it was he who walked down the aisle to Fredrick, with whom he built a beautiful life. That was wrong, and it left him not knowing what was right.
What he believed, but he couldn't know, was that there is something after this. He felt Kathy after she died, saw her sometimes, even. He felt her now, guiding him through this, calming him like she would when she was alive and he was upset. He clung to that; that when she passed, Olivia would go somewhere. She wouldn't be alone, and maybe he would feel her, until he finally joined her.
Olivia groaned in the bed and shifted her weight.
“El,” she asked. “Are you here?”
“Right here, baby,” he said softly into her ear as she slowly opened her eyes.
“It hurts,” she said, “and I'm thirsty.”
“I can get you some ice chips, and Candace will be here soon with more medicine,” Elliot assured her.
“I wish there was something to help with the pain that didn't make me sleep,” Olivia said, voice hoarse. “I want to be with you, really be with you, and Noah when he comes. I think today might be it, love.”
“No,” Elliot said stubbornly. “It isn't, but I'll ask Candace what we can do to minimize pain while you're awake.”
“I think you should call the other kids, El,” Olivia said softly, and Elliot felt his heart clench. He wished it could just stop beating when hers did.
“It's not today, love. You'll be ok,” he told her.
“No,” she said. “Call them, El. I want my family here. Ok?”
Elliot couldn't stop the tears from falling at that point. His voice was tense when he replied, “Ok. I'll call them.”
He stepped away for a matter of minutes to call Kathleen, who would mobilize the rest of the troops. She would arrive quickly, faster even than Noah, who was already on route with his husband from Philadelphia. Kathleen stayed in the city. Maureen did as well, but she'd have to either pick up the kids from school or arrange childcare. Richard and Liz had moved to a small Rhode Island town, and Eli had moved back to Italy with Becky and Owen after leaving the force. They would likely not make it in time. The thought broke his heart.
When he returned to the living room, Olivia was moaning in pain.
“Baby!” He exclaimed, rushing over to her. Running his hand through her hair and down her face, he asked, “What can I do?”
“Lay with me,” she replied, and he did. The bed was small, but he wrapped his arms around her from behind and held her gently but fully, remembering countless other nights where he did the same, and countless more he spent imagining doing so.
The road their love traveled was crooked, but he had loved her, he believed, since the day he met her. The years he spent watching her back, growing their friendship, telling her they were partners for better or worse, offering her his kidney, they were a part of their love story. The years of his failing, his abandonment of her, they were, too. They were the bitter part, born of his inability to love himself rather than her, and born of his inability to know how to handle loving two people. It seemed now that both were meant to be taken from him too soon. Forever wouldn't have been long enough.
Olivia didn't speak as he held her. She seemed to have calmed down, but her breathing was shallow. He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he heard the front door open and Candace walk in, saying, “Good afternoon, Olivia. How are we feeling today?”
Olivia took a breath to respond, but exhaled without speaking.
Elliot whispered in her ear, asking, “Do you want me to tell her?”
Olivia nodded slightly in response.
“She's been in pain all morning,” Elliot explained, pushing himself slowly, carefully, from the bed. He was no spring chicken either. “Says she wishes there were a medication to help with the pain but not put her directly to sleep.”
Candace nodded thoughtfully. She was a sweet young woman in her forties who seemed truly dedicated to this work.
“She also,” Elliot said, getting choked up, “she's thirsty, and - and she said today might be it.”
“Ok, let me do an assessment,” Candace said calmly. “We can probably do a low dose of ketamine. That can help complex pain, and won't be as sedating. I'll call the doctor, and also make her a slushy.”
After a brief assessment, and a dose of the medication, Olivia was able to sit up and sip the crushed ice drink.
She reached for Elliot's hand again and pushed out in a hoarse voice, “How're you holding up?”
“I'm fine, love,” Elliot replied quickly. “Just worry about yourself.”
“Fine, fine, fine,” Olivia said softly. “You sound like me now. I'd be worse off if I were in your seat than mine.”
“I don't want you to go,” Elliot admitted, wiping tears from his eyes.
“I don't think I'll really be gone,” Olivia said softly. “Whatever happens next, if I can help it, I won't leave you.”
“And I'll join you as soon as I can,” Elliot vowed.
“Don't do that,” Olivia warned. “Our kids need you, our grandkids. Our life, it's been so beautiful. You - you changed me, and I wouldn't change anything. The hard parts, the scary ones, they still led here. You, Noah, the kids, our family and friends. I've loved my life, and I believe that love endures, but your life isn't over yet, El. You need to live it.”
I don't want to live it without you, Elliot thought, but Noah and Fredrick arrived before he could answer, and Elliot gave Noah some time alone with his mother. Still, he heard a voice answer back, I know, but I want you to, for me.
He sat with Fredrick in the Master bedroom, wanting to give Noah and Olivia some privacy. Slowly, other family members trickled in, along with friends. Kathleen, so like Olivia - independent, alone, but happy and successful. Maureen, Carl, and the kids. Amanda, Sonny, Phoebe. Fin passed the year before, and there was a bit of deja vu to the scene.
Eventually the group gathered in the open concept kitchen/living room sharing stories about the past, as well as hope for the future. Pizza was ordered, drinks were shared, and as the afternoon turned to evening, Olivia gestured to Elliot to come over.
“I want to go on the patio one more time,” she said, “and then I think I need the other meds.”
“Ok,” Elliot said. “On the bed or the wheelchair.”
“Chair,” Olivia said softly.
Richard and Liz had arrived less than an hour before, and Elliot beckoned, “Noah, Richard, can you help me get your mom in the chair?”
They did. Olivia weighed next to nothing, so the strain wasn't physical, but her winces and groans were not able to be hidden.
Elliot pushed her outside, as requested. They had opted to live in the industrial apartment he had shared with Eli and Bernie when he first returned to New York, and she had always loved the patio.
“Do you need anything, love?” Elliot asked her.
“Just wanted to see the stars one more time,” Olivia muttered. “Such as they are.”
It was still dusk, and the pollution of the city hid the glory of the full night sky, but two bright stars could be seen.
“That's Venus,” Olivia said, pointing to one. “The plant, named after the goddess of love. Whatever god there is - Venus, your god, or maybe a sense of god that just lives in all of us, I'm glad for the love I've had. It took us a while, El, but it was worth it.”
“More than worth it,” Elliot agreed, leaning down and kissing Olivia softly on the lips. Despite her age, and the illness, she was beautiful. Her lips were full, her hair a dark grey hanging to her shoulders, and her dark brown eyes still held the life they always did.
“I think I need the stronger pill now, El. Can you get Candace to prepare it, and then lay with me, just you?”
“Of course,” Elliot said. The goodbyes were tearful, especially Noah's. It was clear to everyone in the room that this was the last goodbye.
Elliot laid next to Olivia in the bed again after everyone left, holding her. It wasn't immediate. It probably took hours, but he felt the moment she stopped breathing. He knew she had died, but like with Kathy, he still felt her. He did every day through his last few years.