Elliot Stabler's Villa

10:26 A.M.

1/17

"I set out some fresh clothes for you and some clean towels." Olivia spoke softly from the doorway of Elliot's bedroom. He had sweat directly through his clothes during his night on the couch and she could sense how uncomfortable he was. "I've got the shower heated up and running when you're ready."

She couldn't look him in the eye. She wondered if telling him about Lewis was the right option, especially now. Though, she couldn't shake the feeling that he would be upset if she didn't tell him sooner. The last thing he wanted to be seen as was weak and keeping a secret from him like this would only exacerbate that feeling... right?

She knew that she didn't really have to tell anyone anything if she didn't want to. It was her story to tell, her secret to keep. Though, it felt almost dirty to keep it from him. In all their years together, secrets were practically a sin. They had shared with each other the details they didn't share in marriages and on dates. But he was missing massive pieces to her puzzle now.

Coming to his aide, she helped him up from the couch with his arm interlaced with hers. He grunted in pain as they slowly shuffled to his bedroom. She had laid out a similar outfit to the one he had on now, something light and comfortable, but it was obvious to her that it was the last thing on his mind.

His symptoms had worsened through the night and he was less than aware of what was actually going on around him. Once she got him seated on his bed, she helped undo the zipper on the old grey hoodie. He tiredly shrugged out of the poor thing that had seen more sweat in 24 hours than it had ever known. His fever was back up and the delirium was even worse.

"I got it from here," he wheezed, starting to slide off the soaked tee that clung to his chest.

"Okay," she nodded slowly. "I'll be right outside if you need me. If you feel like you're gonna fall, call for me." she helped him up again, inching him in towards the bathroom before he was safely behind the shut door with his clothes and towels.

She fell down against the bed with her face flat against the duvet. Her mind raced with what she was supposed to be doing for him. Breakfast was likely a bust since the shower would no doubt leave him too exhausted to eat. She wanted to throw his blankets in the wash but she feared that if she stepped away for a moment, she wouldn't hear him if he called for her. Calling to update Huang was out because she didn't want him to overhear her.

More than anything, she wanted to sleep. She was happy to take the recliner for the night, but her tiredness stemmed more from seeing him in the state he was in. Added along with the emotional exhaustion of mentally reliving the past ten years, she was overdue for a nap.

That was when she felt like the worst mom in the world because she had completely forgotten to call Noah before she had fallen asleep last night. Even though their time zones were chunks apart, she had at least promised to send a video when one knew the other was asleep.

She rolled over on the bed, pulling her phone from her back pocket. He would still be fast asleep and a video would have to suffice, but she missed the sound of her son's voice. "Hi baby, it's me." she smiled weakly as she started the video. "I'm so sorry I couldn't call you last night. I've been helping my friend Elliot out a lot and we were both so tired that we fell asleep a little early. I hope I can make it up to you with some pretty cool italian candy that I picked up at the train station. I think you're really gonna like it, it's a type of chocolate that I've never seen at home! I also got you that t-shirt you asked for. And before you ask, yes, I told Elliot that you said 'hello' and that you were hoping to meet him soon."

She felt her smile begin to warm up to the thought that she was talking directly to her son, and not just a camera with no reply. "I hope you're on your best behavior for Lucy just like you promised, and Uncle Fin is gonna take you out for dinner tonight. I love you!"

When she set her phone down, she exhaled deep from within her chest. She hoped that someday, Noah would meet Elliot, and maybe understand why she was in such a hurry to help him. She knew her son was disheartened when she suddenly hopped on a plane to Italy with little explanation. She just hoped that someday, after knowing Elliot and all that he meant to her, it would click for Noah just how important of a man Elliot is to her.

She could hear the click of the shower tap turning off, followed by a rather heavy thud. She shot out her flopped position on the bed, rushing to press her ear to the door. "Elliot?" she asked frantically. "El, you okay?"

No response came from the other side of the door. "I'm coming in." she said, bracing herself as she flung the door open.

Elliot was on the floor, his towel wrapped around his waist as he sat with his back against the tub. "I tried," he wheezed, out of breath. "I tried to stand long enough to get dressed but I felt lightheaded and knew I had to get out."

"It's okay," she whispered, grabbing an extra towel from the rack. She knelt down, patting the towel against the droplets of water that covered his legs. "At least you didn't fall and hit your head." she mumbled, using one hand to lift his weakened arms and the other to dry them.

His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. She wasn't sure which droplets on his face were tears and which were from the shower, and that somehow made her feel a little better. If she knew every drop had come from his eyes and not from the shower, it would shatter her heart anymore. "I'm sorry to put you through this, Liv." he sighed.

"Elliot," she dropped her head. "I'm pretty sure it was you who said we were partners, for better or for worse. I like to think that includes in sickness and in health too." she tried to soften the words with a smile, hoping it would take some of his unease away. Though, she knew that it would be unlikely given the state he was in.

"I know," he looked up at her, peeking through heavily lidded eyes. "I just didn't think you'd ever see me like this. Hell, I didn't think I would see myself like this. I can't help but feel a little guilty... or a lotta guilty."

"You've seen me in some pretty bad places, El." she shook her head, trying to push the onslaught of memories away. "Wouldn't you rather it be me here than some sorry idiot twelve year old who's fresh on the force and doesn't know his own ass from a hole in the ground?"

"You're right." he nodded weakly, still afraid to look her directly in the eyes. "It just feels like it can't get much worse than this."

She dried him as much as possible before slumping down across from him. "Well, at least it wasn't like the time when we all got food poisoning from Sonya's potluck dish at Thanksgiving and you walked in on Munch using the single stall bathroom because he forgot to lock the doors."

He laughed with what little breath he had, a small smile gracing his face. "God, I never thought I'd miss those stupid moments." he whispered. "How about the time Cragen made us all work late so he slept on the cot in his office and started to sleepwalk around the bullpen."

Olivia burst out laughing before she could stop herself. "Oh, poor Fin had to wrestle the flare gun out of his hand." she was doubling over with laughter at the memory and how that day, Elliot had nearly fallen to the ground with his own laughter. "Don't forget the time Alex got drunk at the Christmas party and sang the karaoke version of Like A Virgin five times."

The color started to return in Elliot's cheeks, painting them a soft shade of familiar pink. "Or the time Munch punched that firefighter at our bar when the guy said that Munch was better at delivering donuts than solving cases."

Tears formed in Olivia's eyes as she cackled at the memory. "Or when Casey made us all do that stupid softball game and Lake took a ball to the eye. He had a concussion and wasn't allowed to sleep so Fin would blast the megaphone siren every time he started to doze off." her laughter died down into a soft sigh. "I forgot how much I miss them."

Elliot finally worked up enough strength to raise his head. "Miss them?" he asked, his brows furrowing with confusion.

Olivia's smile slowly turned into a saddened frown. "Munch is gone, so is Cragen. Fin and I head the department now." she watched the realization as it dawned on him. "A lot has changed... more than I think I could even explain."

"So... explain it." he murmured, his eyes finally connecting with hers in full swing. The room had gone from being filled with laughter to being so quiet that they could hear a pin drop. She tried to find it in his face if he was being serious or not, or if he could even handle all of it.

She gulped, exhaling steadily as she sunk deeper against the bathroom floor. "Well, my partner after you left was Amaro. He was a good guy, reminded me a lot of you. He stuck around for a few years but his kids were moving to California so he went with them. There's Rollins, she's still around. She can be a troublemaker but she does good work in the field. She was partnered with Carisi for a bit, but he left to work for the D.A. He's still around but it was a hard hit when he left. Barba was our A.D.A for a while, and he and I definitely did some of our best work together... you would've hated him."

He watched the pain that grew on her face as she recalled the years while they flashed before her.

"Barba left after a... a very trying case." her lower lip quivered as she stared down into her lap. "We have Tamin, she's young but promising, and A.D.A Garland is a nice addition to the squad. There was Murphy, he actually had a child with Rollins. He was our C.O. when — um, when things were touch and go."

There it was, a sliver. A small glimpse of a crack in Olivia Benson's walls that she tried so hard to keep upright. It didn't go unnoticed by Elliot, not by any means.

She forced herself to continue on. "We had William Dodds, he was a Deputy Chief in the unit. His son, Mike, was second in command for a short period. He went in on a domestic hostage case where he was shot and later died from complications."

The horror on her face chilled him to the bone, yet he couldn't look away. Guilt swirled deep in his gut as he realized only a fraction of the pain she had gone through without him. Yet, there he was, on a bathroom floor with her because she was always the person who came when he needed her.

"There uh— there's more but I'm not sure you'll like hearing it." she winced at the idea of telling him this. She always had, every time it crossed her mind that she would see Elliot again, she feared this quite a bit.

"Might as well spill it anyway." he gulped.

A tear started to form in her eye as she let the silence sit for a moment. "Promise you won't hate me?"

"Liv," he exhaled. "You came all the way to Italy and you're sitting with me on the bathroom floor while I detox off of hardcore drugs. I think that constitutes a lifetime free-pass on me ever hating you. That, and I couldn't hate you even if I tried."

She nodded slowly, still staring down into her lap. "I know that the last you remember about Tucker was a lot of bad memories. I won't sit here and negate that with excuses because that isn't fair to you."

Whether or not she had a photographic memory, the image of Elliot's face would forever be ingrained into her mind. The moment she said the name that went unspoken for so long between the two of them, the one that held history that the other wasn't aware of, she saw the switch flip inside of him.

"After you left, things sort of changed." she stated carefully, fully knowing she was treading thin ice as it was. "He changed, is what I'm trying to say. There was an incident where I was in a hostage situation. He was there to help get me out of it and I guess... we bonded."

"Liv," he rasped, looking defeated if she looked close enough. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I— I didn't expect it," she bit the air trying to find the right words. Even she knew that there was no way to rearrange the 26 letters of the alphabet to come up with a plausible excuse for why she had fallen in love with the man who made her and Elliot's life a living hell for a decade. "It just happened."

She watched Elliot's mouth open and close as he searched for the right response. She saw the anger brewing deep and felt a panic rise through her chest.

"And before you say something you'll regret saying, he's dead." she blurted out, trying to mend their relationship before he broke it with his words.

"Oh," Elliot had quickly faded from anger to shock, his head beginning to fall back against where he was leaning up against.

Olivia sighed a breath of relief knowing that Elliot's hatred for the man had quickly been patched enough that he wouldn't break her heart with a half-cocked insult. She had gotten them to the safe zone of the conversation, barely fast enough.

"We broke up. He got married." she sniffled, quickly wiping her sleeve against her nose to hide her face. "He had brain cancer, and he didn't want to suffer. I think you can piece together the rest."

Elliot sat in disbelief, the silence returning to the small little bathroom where they were huddled together on the floor. His fingers unconsciously traced along the tiling on the floor. He was never the man who had empathy for a guy like Tucker, the guy who lied to get into cases and the guy who had thrown Olivia behind bars. That wasn't where his empathy was. His sadness lied within her and the hurt she felt. No matter how much he hated the men who looked at her, he hated her grief even more.

He knew the feeling of the barrel of a gun to his temple, and he knew that the moment that weapon was lowered, the human mind clung to what was closest. He also knew how hard it was to deny one's self of that. He knew the moment Olivia had transferred out of SVU directly after Gitano.

Pain didn't even begin to describe what that had felt like.

So many words to describe emotional hurt. Pain, agony, dispair, anguish, torment, torture. None of them even remotely grasped the concept of how hard it was to be denied the comfort to that trauma.

So, the idea that Olivia hadn't suffered that feeling by walking away from Tucker the night of the hostage incident — it brought him an unexpected solace.

It had just happened to blossom into something more than that.

When Olivia had left after Gitano, the air had disappeared. His lungs had felt as if they were on the verge of combusting. For days, the trauma of knowing a bullet could've invaded his skull had gone unlulled. That trauma... it had called for her. The thump of Gitano's body beside his, the shotgun falling along with it, he had wanted to run directly into her.

The denial of that basic human need had kept him awake at night. There is a bond created by eye-contact on the edge of death. A bond that runs deep within the tissue of humanity. With Gitano's gun to his head he had focused on the intricate designs within her deep brown irises. They had been his focus on surviving. It takes one glance, one tiny connection. Once the body is no longer staring down death, it wants that connection back like his body wants the drugs back.

That. That was the one pain he had experienced greater than the throttle of addiction.

He could let go of the fact that Olivia had been in the arms of Ed Tucker as long as he remembered that she hadn't been in the arms of that kind of pain.

Elliot Stabler's Villa

2:15 P.M.

1/17

She stood on the back patio of the little home, watching the waves crash against the shoreline. Elliot was asleep inside, allowing his body the rest it clearly needed. But after their earlier conversation, she couldn't sit with the walls staring at her in judgement any longer.

Even standing outside felt wrong, she should be inside watching him like a hawk. God, she hadn't felt this way since Noah was a baby. Nights spent just staring at him over the edge of his crib, making sure he was okay.

The wind blowing through her hair was a nice contrast to the darkness inside of the apartment. It was strange though, she had to admit. Standing in front of a beautiful place but not allowed to enjoy it. She had always dreamed of visiting Italy, but this scenario had never once crossed her mind.

She was back to being stuck thinking about how much had changed. She hadn't seen Eli since he was in diapers. Now, out there somewhere was a young man who didn't really know his father. In fact, she knew his father better than he did. That wasn't sitting with her right.

Elliot had always been the man who would turn over every rock and road map to stick by his children. How much had he really changed? They hadn't had the time to discuss the details of his case, but she couldn't wrap her head around how big it could be if it meant Elliot sacrificing all that life meant to him.

She thought about Noah, mentally switching places with Elliot. How low would she need to be to drop everything and let the years waste away while she worked? There wasn't a single degree of depth she could think of that would make her do that. Once upon a time, Elliot would've said the same thing. Yet, here he was.

The one man who valued family over everything.

The man who no doubt labelled himself as a murderer on the last day he was in the bullpen.

She had to wonder, was that the real reason behind all of this? Not just the case work, anyone with two eyes knew that was why he was here. The rest of it, though. The rest didn't add up. Elliot had stuck a needle in his arm and said it was for the case. She was supposed to know him better than anyone, so why didn't she know the truth of whether or not it was actually for the case or one big pile of self sabotage.

The waves didn't answer her question like she had hoped they would.

Elliot had always been the type to torture himself internally until he crumbled. The Rickett case had been proof of that. Years of pent up aggression towards that horrid man and Elliot had put his knuckles through a locker door.

That case paled in comparison to what had happened to Jenna Fox. Elliot, the man who valued family above all else, the man who would fight for a child's safety to the death, had pulled the trigger on a young girl. If he had ever been asked what he thought hell was, she assumed he would say that exact scenario.

Maybe he didn't actually care about the drug trafficking case as much as he said so. Maybe it wasn't about the bad guys he was chasing down in the streets, but rather the one he was chasing in his head, in the mirror. He had become his own most hated image.

Going off of a hunch, she had to assume that sliding that needle into his arm was a much easier choice than pulling the trigger.

Sometimes she wished she had been the one who pulled the trigger.

Maybe he would've stayed and the world wouldn't have stopped spinning for so long. Maybe she could've saved his soul and self image if she had been quicker.

Except, 'maybe' wasn't good enough. That one fucking bullet destroyed everything. Everything since that day had just been a victim of the domino effect. If she had pulled the trigger, he wouldn't have left. Elliot's life wouldn't have fallen apart. Eli wouldn't be without his father. She wouldn't have been without her partner. He wouldn't have moved across the world. He wouldn't be in the fetal position right now shaking as toxins seeped out of his body. God, if she had just grabbed her damn gun! Damnit!

Without realizing, she had punched an empty beer can that was sitting on the railing of the patio. She watched as it rolled across the sand, stopping as a seashell was in its path.

Too many 'maybe' scenarios swarmed her head. Would Lewis have gotten her? Would he and Kathy have divorced? Would she have fallen in love with Tucker? Would she have gotten Noah? Would Eli have a father? Would she be a captain? Would any of this be real if she had pulled the trigger and he stayed?

She wanted the ocean to answer, but the water had no sympathy for her search for the truth.

In all her years on the force, she had lived with the fact that focusing on the scenarios of what life could've been was not the way to go. She couldn't reach back into the past and whisper to herself that one movement would change the course of her own history, so there wasn't a point in dwelling on it.

This was different.

This was the balance on which her world revolved around. Everything they lost, everything they gained. If she didn't think about what life could be, it burned. It stung every nerve in her body to ignore the swarms of altered reality in her head.

What if Huang hadn't called her? What if every footstep she had made from New York to Italy hadn't existed? Then what?

The wind whistled in her ear like the bass of the loudest song.

Would this have been his equivalent of what Lewis was to her? Just another horrible time where they didn't have each other to rely on? Another horrible thing that they would need to explain once they reunited?

What if they never reunited?

Elliot Stabler's Villa

4:56 P.M.

1/17

She was learning the hard way that making a meal for him was a futile project. He had regained a little energy after they finally departed from the floor of the shower, but that energy had quickly faded once more. When she had walked in with the plate, she had practically dropped it at the sight of him. She slid the plate onto the coffee table, quickly moving to slide next to him on the couch.

With a blanket wrapped over his arms like a cocoon, his body overwhelmed itself with unbearable tremors. Bullets of sweat beaded along the ridges of his forehead, his skin as white as a sheet. Olivia had faced fear often in her line of work, but seeing him in this state was a horror she hadn't experienced.

"I can't do this anymore, Liv." he sobbed through chattering teeth. "I can't. I mean it, I can't."

Her arms instinctively wrapped around him from the side, compressing his shivering arms under hers. She gripped him with as much force as she could conjure up. She had never considered herself a religious person, but in that moment, she prayed. She prayed to whomever would possibly be listening to heal him, to end this. "I've got you." she whispered.

The Elliot in her arms was not the Elliot she spent 12 years on the force with. He was a shell filled with agonizing pain, with thoughts that the real Elliot would never stop to think.

She wasn't actually sure of who it was that was within her grasp.

"I'm gonna get some more benadryl to see if it'll help calm your body, okay?" she rushed off of the couch as soon as he gave her a clear nod. As soon as she disappeared into the other room, his eyes zeroed in on a frame that was hanging on the wall. Tunnel vision faded all that was surrounded by it and he felt his heart pulsating within his neck.

He fled from his spot on the couch, shedding the blanket from his arms as he darted over to the hanging frame. He ripped it from the nails it hung on before swiftly bashing the corner of the metal into the drywall.

His veins screamed in pain with every movement and with all of the energy he had left to give, he continued to break away the hole in the wall. Dust and paint chippings fell to the floor and despite his mind screaming for him to stop, his body had gone against his will.

Olivia ran back in the room, following the loud thrashing sound. "Elliot, no!" she howled as she dropped the bottle of benadryl, running as fast as she could over to him as he grabbed a plastic bag from inside the hole in the wall. Tears flowed from both of their eyes as she wrestled him for the bag full of white powder. "Elliot, stop!"

She had just managed to subdue him as his weakness won the fight against him. She threw the bag across the room, knowing she could chase it down with a headstart as long as it was out of his hands. As he slid down the broken wall, Olivia swiped the bag from off the ground and darted towards the bathroom. A moment later, he heard the sound of the toilet flushing with the bag of drugs swirling down the pipes.

Out of breath, she slowly walked back into the living room. She could hardly see through the tears and she wasn't really aware of what had even happened. She stopped in her tracks, watching Elliot as he fully seated himself on the hardwood floors. Plaster and debris littered the ground as he brought his knees up to his chest.

She knelt down beside him, throwing her arms back over him as he turned to cry into her chest. "The cartel, they made me stash drugs in the walls. I'm sorry, Liv." his broken sobs rattled against her. "I'm so sorry, I tried to stop but I couldn't"

"Shh," she whispered, stroking the side of his head. "It's okay." she sniffled, wiping her cheeks into her shoulder. She could feel the sprinkle of loose plaster still falling from the hole in the wall, raining over them like the shitstorm it all was.

"I can't do this anymore,"

"Yes you can." she rested her chin on the top of his head, holding him closer. "You're almost done, Elliot. It's almost over." she gulped when she remembered how small the bag of drugs was. "You need to tell me where the other bags are, El."

"That was the only one." he choked out.

"No, no it wasn't." she shook her head. "C'mon, Elliot. You'll thank me later, just tell me where they are." she continued to pray, hoping that for his own good that he would just let her take the reins. He clearly didn't trust himself and the willpower within was fading fast.

He hesitated to answer, she could feel the tightly held breath of indecisiveness that was seeping from his lungs. Just one moment of honesty, that's all she was praying for now. One moment of his strength to get him through the rest of this.

"Under the kitchen sink," he whispered. "Behind the bathtub. Top shelf in my bedroom closet. In the wall behind my mirror in my bedroom."

"Where else?" she urged, trying to get him to look into her eyes.

"That's it." he wheezed.

"Elliot, where else!" the tears started to fall again as soon as she saw the helplessness in his eyes. Her volume had raised without even realizing it, her grip on him turning into a white-knuckle tightness. She wasn't begging him, she was begging God.

"The mattress!" he blurted out, taking a strikingly sharp inhale of air. "That's all of it!"

The clock in her head had started and her cop instincts started to kick in ten-fold. She quickly rushed to her feet, helping him back to the couch with most of his body weight leaning into her. "Lay down. Don't move." she warned him sternly, swiftly throwing his blanket back over him.

She ran off into the kitchen, sliding to her knees as she opened the cabinet doors. With little care to her surroundings, she pushed the bottles of cleaner and detergent out onto the floor. Craning her arm up to the sink pipes, she felt around for any sign of the drugs. Her hand hit what felt like a duct-taped bag of sand. She ripped the two bricks of drugs off of the pipes where they had been taped.

She quickly looked back to make sure Elliot had stayed put before running into the bathroom with the packages under her arm. The bathroom door slammed behind her, and all she could think about was how horrible it felt not to be able to trust Elliot. The entirety of their partnership was built on trust, but right now he couldn't even trust himself.

Sliding on her hip, she reached down under the base of the clawfoot tub where her hand flew to another taped up stash. She felt her heart breaking as she realized how deep Elliot was in the cartel. All day, every day, surrounded by what she could only describe as hell.

As soon as she knew the bathroom was clear, she hurried into the bedroom. She locked the bedroom door behind her, tossing the packed keys of drugs onto the bed. Her eyes scanned the room, first aiming towards the closet. 'Top shelf,' she muttered under her breath.

Using the hamper to hoist herself up, she climbed just high enough to find a sole shoebox stuffed against the back wall of the shelf. She pried it down, opening it to find a handful of bags filled with the same powder. She tossed the box onto the bed along with the rest of the drugs, looking again to find her next target.

She spotted the wall mirror above the dresser. Shifting her weight into her arms, she slid the dresser away from the wall so she could have full access to the wall. As soon as she pried the mirror off of it's mount on the wall, she could see where the newest layer of plaster was patched on the wall.

Her head whipped around the room in search of something heavy enough to break through. Her eyes landed on the lamp that sat on his bedside dresser. She forced herself to ignore the photo of his family on the small table and yanked the cord out of the wall. As soon as the shade was spun off of its base, she spun the lamp in her hand.

Her fingers tightened on the base of it before she hit it into the wall like a baseball bat. A violent grunt ripped from her lungs as she continued hitting it into the wall, breaking away at the newly laid plaster.

Using her jacket-covered elbow, she cleared any of the jagged pieces away from the hole before reaching in. As soon as she glanced in, she spotted two more keys were taped to the studs in the wall. Warm tears spilled from her eyes without her even noticing. She stepped back to stare at the hole, her heart only breaking more with every act of destruction.

Last up, the mattress.

Before diving in, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket and dialed the number that Vincent had left for her. The line trilled in her ear before the gruff voice answered. "It's Olivia. I need you here as soon as possible." she said, hanging up before she could answer any questions.

She made quick work of transferring the bricks and bags to the top of the dresser. She stripped down the duvet and sheets, throwing the pillows off the edge until the mattress was bare.

If she still knew Elliot, she knew exactly where to find what she would need to get in. She ran back over to the dresser, rifling through the top drawer until she found the object she was in search of. His old black pocket knife shined in the sunlight as she flicked the blade open.

She climbed back on the bed on all fours, stabbing the knife as deep as it would go into the fabric. The springs creaked as she carved a straight line down the center of the bed. When she leaned back upright, she stared down into the hole beneath the ripped bed. Five keys stuffed among the foam and springs. One by one, she reached in and pried them out.

The room was a disaster. Hell, the entire house was. It was odd to be standing in what she knew would become a vivid memory some day.

This was her partner's room.

That stung.

She went back to the closet, digging on the floor to find an empty duffel bag. Carefully, each of her findings were placed inside the black bag. The pocket knife was returned back to its spot inside the drawer and the hamper was tucked back into the closet. She felt her energy degrading fast as she tried to move the dresser back into place.

The mattress was a lost cause, but at least Elliot had been comfortable with sleeping on the couch.

She slumped down on the floor, the duffel bag sitting between her legs. Almost instinctively, she buried her head in her hands, her fingers threading through the dark brown locks of hair. Her eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to ward off the tears that fell with ease.

How the hell did both of them end up so goddamn broken?

Elliot Stabler's Villa

11:10 P.M.

1/17

When she heard the wheels of the SUV pull up outside, her fists clenched in anger. Elliot was asleep on the couch, wrestling with the tremors that fought through his slumber. She grabbed the duffel bag and bolted out of the front door into the darkness of the evening. Headlights glared in her eyes as she came face to face with Vincent.

"I called you six hours ago!" she growled. She shoved the duffel bag into the man's broad chest. "Six hours! Get this shit the hell out of here!"

Vincent unzipped a tiny slit in the bag, his eyes widening before zipping it back closed. "Wow,"

"You have an undercover agent going through withdrawal, the least you could've done was clear the damn place out! But no, instead he's been sitting in there with drugs stashed all over his house while he tries to survive detox!" her eyes blazed as she stared up at the man, anger coursing through her veins like fire.

"We weren't aware that the cartel had made him hold onto this," he replied calmly.

"Horseshit!" she yelled, immediately regretting how loud she was. Her head spun around to make sure that nobody else was around. "I've worked UC before, I know what goes into this type of operation. Nothing gets past a handler. Meanwhile, that man in there? He has sacrificed everything for your case. What happened to looking out for your agents?"

"Captain Benson, have you made any progress convincing him to make this an easy extraction?" he asked, completely disregarding her comments.

"I've been a little busy trying to keep him alive. Something you barely managed." she poked him in the chest with her finger before stepping back. "If he's any better, I'll try tomorrow. Right now, he's resting." Before he could give her any more grievance, she spun on her heel and went back into the villa, slamming the door behind her.

She stopped in the hallway, focusing on taking in a deep breath to calm herself. She didn't want Elliot to wake up and see her as infuriated as she was. That would only tense him up even more.

The protective instincts she had with him had never really left, but she felt them flooding back even stronger. As of now, she wasn't working for the feds or anyone else. She was there for Elliot and only Elliot.

When she walked back into the living room, she saw the familiar blue eyes watching her as she reached the edge of the couch. "You doing okay?"

"I'm sorry, Liv." he rasped.

"No, no." she hushed, stepping over to kneel close to his face. Her hand stroked over the side of his head. "Don't apologize, okay? You're gonna get through this, and I'll be right here with you." she smiled sadly as her thumb dragged across his cheek. "But, your mattress is shot at this point so I hope you can handle sleeping on this."

"It's a pull-out couch. I just haven't had the energy to set it up." he replied.

"Here," she stood up, reaching her hand out to help him up. "I'll get it set up for you. Sit in the chair for a few minutes and I'll grab the sheets from your bed."

It wasn't long before the uncomfortable couch had been converted into a less-uncomfortable bed. Half of the living room needed to be rearranged to accommodate it, but none of it mattered as soon as he was back to lying down.

"Liv?" he asked as she came back from the bathroom in her pajamas. "Will you lay with me?"

The corners of her mouth turned upright as she softly nodded. "Sure," she answered, pulling away at the side of the covers which were unoccupied. She slid in next to him, passing him the remote to the TV as she got comfortable.

Without thinking, her arm wrapped around his torso and her head rested snug against his shoulder. For the first time since she had arrived in Italy, a complete and total relaxation washed over her.

Maybe for the first time in a long time, she felt safe again.