He saw her.

It took her a moment, a solitary second where the universe hadn't come crashing down yet. Then, the moment was over.

And she saw him too.

Standing in the dead center of the busiest city in the country, the world had somehow managed to slow down. The yellow strings of taxis that hurried through the streets were gone. The never ending noise of the bustling concrete jungle went as silent as could be. One finite moment of her eyes connecting with his, an entire street across from each other.

He had finally found the needle in the haystack.

The end of the constant questioning of where the hell was she. All of it was answered in a split second, probably the only question that could be answered from where her feet were planted on the ground. He recognized the building, the unmissable skyscraper with the unique orange detailing around it. His children had asked him about that building once, Sloan Kettering Memorial. It had taken the wind out of his sails when their tiny voices asked such an innocent question with a horrific answer. 'That's a place where people go when they get really sick. Not like — not like a cold. But when they're really sick and they need to see special doctors.'

He had never sped away so fast before. He'd always struggled with keeping his world away from his children, and it was even more of a struggle to keep the real world away from his children as well.

But here it was... those two worlds crashing and coalescing together. All in a single glance. Their own personal Chernobyl.

He watched her rise and fall in that moment. The struggled inhale she had taken when she realized what had just happened, and the heavy exhale with her eyes fighting to stay open when she realized there was no going back either.

Everything crumbled without her permission.

She'd sat and wondered for two weeks what his reaction would be, how he would find out, or how she'd have to tell him. She'd played every scenario in her mind on repeat until it was ingrained into her memory. She'd practiced her speeches, preparing an attempt to control the moment when the time came. So many words she had decided on... or better yet, failed to decide on.

But there were no words at all. Mere yards away from each other, four lanes of traffic separating them, there was no need for words.

Disappointment. Her jawbone tensed but her brow bone relaxed; the face of numbness. That was the ultimate emotion it boiled down to. Nothing else in the air between them but exhaust fumes and palpable disappointment.

They had mastered the art of having wordless conversations with each other. Every eye twitch and glance, their own personal dictionaries made for each other. The rest of the world was deaf to their language. This time, there was nothing to be said, or not said. There was no descriptive expression that could somehow add up to everything they both felt as the world around them paused.

They'd both managed to feel just as blank as their expressions. Inside and out became nothing but null and void.

For the first time ever, he couldn't read her. Something within them and their partnership, some invisible barrier had suddenly cracked. Whether it was a barrier that was between them or containing them together, he wasn't sure. But he could feel its metaphorical cracks beginning to grow. For so long, they had lived within their own four walls together, a small slice of the world just for themselves. Maybe that was what was breaking apart. Was it a secret so big that she had kept from him enough to shatter the foundation of their relationship? He felt betrayed, but his mind was moving so slowly that he didn't have time to process the fact that he wasn't allowed to be angry at her. He couldn't. Not because she was sick, not because of any of that. But instead, because it wasn't his to know. He wasn't entitled to know anything.

But he couldn't hear anything else over the deception he felt. Not his conscience, not his morals, not even the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears.

It took a moment for him to remember why he was standing there in the first place. A case he was working in one of the neighboring buildings. It began flooding back to him, he was supposed to be checking an alibi with Fin.

He looked over at his temporary partner, realizing that he too had seen Olivia across the street.

But his expression was different. Elliot could see it clear as day. The way Fin's lips pursed and his head tilted with a deep sigh. He was already trying to do damage control before he could even speak to Elliot.

"C'mon, man. She's your partner, you've—"

The anger rushing through his veins forced him to interrupt. "You knew?" Elliot roared, taking a jagged step backwards. It wasn't that hard for him to put the pieces together. Fin wasn't surprised, he wasn't asking questions. The destruction had already settled for him, while an earthquake stirred for Elliot. "You fucking knew?"

Fin stepped forward, putting a defensive hand up. "It wasn't my place to say anything."

Elliot's eyes only grew wider with fury. "It wasn't yo— Don't you dare fuck with me like that! She told you first? How long have you known?" his face became beet red, a surge of rageful tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

Fin opened and closed his mouth before his eyes fell silently towards the ground. Elliot's eyes darted back across the street and even from the distance, he could see the gentle tears streaming down Olivia's cheeks.

"She—" his breath collapsed as he tried to speak. "She's sick... isn't she?"

Fin didn't have time to respond as Elliot turned on his heel to give Olivia one last longing stare before walking away. He wasn't exactly sure what he was walking towards or away from. Fin could deal with the case, not that he really cared about the case right now. Or anything, for that matter.

He wanted to punch something. He wanted to feel the anger flow through him as his fists conjured the rage to bend the unbendable. He needed the scratch marks, the cuts against his knuckles to distract him from the pain he felt inside of himself. He would rather crumble every bone in his body than feel the destruction of his heart within his chest.

Her sobs hadn't stopped the entire way home. She had somehow managed to quiet herself down for the duration of the cab ride back to her apartment, but as soon as the yellow door shut behind her, the façade cracked and she began gasping for air again. After that, the trek from her apartment lobby to her front door was a blur.

She stumbled into her home, her fists coming down in a pound against the granite countertops.

She didn't want him to find out. Not like this.

But as soon as he did, she felt the betrayal. It became clear so fast that she didn't have time to manage the oncoming storm of emotions she felt. She knew it would hurt when he found out but she could have never imagined the pain it would inflict upon herself.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up." she choked out as she paced around her kitchen.

For the first time in weeks, she had been the one to call him. And she had been the one on the other end of the ignored call.

"You've reached Elliot, leave a message after the beep."

God damnit! Her body was going into auto-pilot, pressing 'redial' just as she always did when he didn't answer.

She hurt him. She dug a wound in him so she wouldn't be the only one in pain. She had done the one thing that she had desperately tried avoiding from the start; hurting him. She didn't want to hurt him, not consciously.

His voicemail beeped again, her grip on her phone becoming tighter as she continued to pace.

"Elliot, call me back! Now!"

Subconsciously, she wanted everyone to hurt. She didn't want to be alone. She alienated everyone from knowing why she was in pain, and in return, made them hurt as well.

She didn't mean to.

She never would.

She wasn't that kind of person.

Or maybe she was.

"You've reached Elliot..."

She didn't know herself anymore.

She saw the looks in their eyes. Casey, Fin, Cragen. They were in pain when they knew what she was going through, but they hurt worse when she kept them in the dark. Maybe on different levels. The pain of knowing was a different pain of not knowing, they weren't comparable.

"leave a message after the beep."

She felt cowardly. Her own reasons for hiding her health were no longer clear to her. Everything became blurred so fast, she had to be dreaming. Her eyes squeezed shut, another several set of steps around the floor of her apartment.

She wanted to go home. She was home. But her instinct was to think of how badly she wanted to go home. Where was home? Where was the place she was desperately longing to be? Her apartment felt like just another bunch of bleak white walls. There was no safe place anymore.

Nowhere to run.

Nowhere to hide.

"Elliot, answer the damn phone!"

Redial.

She brought this on herself. Maybe not the cancer, maybe not the unintended emotions, but some part of her must have known what she was doing. Tunnel vision was setting in and there was no point in fighting it off. Why had she done this to him? Why had she done this to herself?

"Please... please just let me explain."

Redial.

She could think of a million times he had kept something from her. His marriage dissolving, his marriage reuniting, and the final break of his marriage. But he had never kept it from her with the intention of hurting her. She wasn't even a stake in any of it, just an innocent bystander in his life.

Did she want to hurt him? She couldn't answer that anymore. Yesterday, the day before, she would've said 'no'. She would've said that her secret being kept was a way to protect him. But maybe that was bullshit. A lie to make herself feel better about what could possibly be the actual truth. The truth she didn't want to face. Maybe, some part of her knew how badly it would sting when he found out she'd kept it from him.

Hurt people hurt people.

"You've reached Elliot..."

If she heard that one more time she would throw the damn phone across the room, let it splinter into a million pieces of broken glass. Her knees were so close to giving out, she couldn't feel them anymore. Her hands threaded through her hair, anxiously tangling the strands.

"I'm sorry, the person you are trying to reach has a full voicemail box."

Her fingers typed faster than she'd ever typed before. Text after text, each time alerting her with a whooshing sound. She waited and waited to see if he'd read any of them, or if his phone was even on anymore.

"Please try again later."

She hated losing control. She hated losing control more than almost anything else. Every time she had lost control, her life had spiraled. The one thing she hated more than losing control was the simple idea of ever losing him — especially due to her own actions. If she tried hard enough, she could go back to the moment she sat in the MRI machine, drowning in pity.

She could say the only reason she kept this secret from him was to protect him. It would be a lie. Of course, part of her wanted to protect him, she always would. But she had kept it from him so she could drown a little deeper. That was the only way to keep from capitulating under his disapproving gaze.

It wasn't worth it.

The few more moments she could have of retaining her own self pity wasn't worth the potential loss of her friendship and partnership. Her world, if she were being honest.

The Olivia Benson that he knew would never pity herself.

But how much god damn pain did she have to go through before she just wasn't that Olivia anymore?

A few moments, that was all she wanted... and she would pay the price.

She already was.

Thirty minutes of the tables being turned, of him ignoring her, and she was crumbling.

She told herself she deserved it. She had done it to him for weeks. She'd left him in the dark, no rhyme or reason of explanation. She'd tossed aside their code of honesty, one of the most integral pieces of their partnership. How many times had he stood in her exact same shoes, pacing his apartment while trying to reach her?

Intentions were gone. Maybe she'd never understand the layers of intent behind her actions. She wanted to protect him. She wanted to hurt him and everyone else who didn't hurt as bad as she did. She wanted to wallow. She wanted to be free from the shackles of everyone else's pity.

She wanted too damn much. Every point of what she wanted was contradictory to the next. Protecting him and hurting him. Pitying herself and refusing other's pity.

She wanted too damn much.

The tunnel vision only worsened as her fists gripped the edge of the countertops again. She wanted to scream. Her mouth opened but she wasn't sure if anything was coming out. She couldn't hear any of the hoarse cries she was attempting to force out. She couldn't see, she couldn't hear, but somehow, she felt every cell of her body shaking in distress.

The emotional pain was drowning out the shooting aches within her arm. She couldn't even begin to think of her arm or she would absolutely have a breakdown... well, maybe it was a little too late. But there was no point in adding fuel to the fire if it would only create more cracks in her sanity. 

Before she had more time to spiral, she shot her head up at the sound of a knock on her door.