"Liv, you need to eat something." he pleaded for the fifth time within the hour. He pushed the tray closer to you, removing the muted pink lid from the plate once again. The food had gone cold already and he couldn't blame her for turning it away by the looks of it.

"I'm not hungry," she deadpanned, refusing to make eye contact with him. Her eyes were set forward, staring at the blank TV screen as a ray of sun glimmered across the wall.

She had slept most of the night, allowing the anesthetic to wear out of her system. By the time they had allowed Elliot in to see her, she had fallen back asleep. When the rise of the sun and the annoying beeps of monitors woke her up, she had looked over to see him sound asleep in the chair beside her bed.

The idea of eating made her stomach churn. Somewhere under the blanket of anesthesia, her basic instinctual needs had disappeared.

"Can you at least drink some water?" he asked, adjusting the bendy straw in the pale pink cup. She didn't bother to look or even flinch at his movements. Her body stayed as still as stone, resting the new wounds that littered her skin.

"I don't want it." she reiterated, frustration growing in her tone. She was anxious, he could sense it in her voice and the slight but stricken movements beneath the thin blankets. By the time Dr. Keller had come to deliver the news of the operation, she had drifted off. Upon waking up, she was entirely clueless. All she knew was the pain of a neatly wrapped incision on her chest.

This was the worst form of limbo she had been in yet. With gauze around her chest, wrapped around her arm like a vine. Not knowing if it was all in vain or with purpose. Everything seemed to flood back to her even in her still drowsy state. Had IVF been the wrong choice? Did she wait too long, holding off on any sort of intervention while the tumors basked in the opportunity of going untouched and growing uninhibited?

She had the remainder of any eggs her body would grow, freezing in a storage tank somewhere in the city. Seven of them in total. The specialists had said that the lower amount of eggs could've been from the stress that the cancer had put her body under. Though, she had too much on her plate to worry about the survival odds of those lone seven eggs.

Seven eggs out, seventeen stitches in.

There was an irony there, she just wasn't sure how to spot it.

"Liv, talk to me." he pleaded,

Her skin ached from the seventeen stitches, but her soul ached from the seven eggs. Some of them would survive the freezing process, and fewer would survive when the time came to thaw them out. Even lower after they were fertilized.

If she made it that far, a dark voice in her head whispered. The self-pity had come in spades as soon as she had enough consciousness to wrap her mind around what was happening. The bandages dug into her skin and she wanted nothing more than to throw the scratchy covers over her body and melt away from the pain; and the world.

She hissed as she tried to sit up in the bed, the feeling of a razor slicing through her skin sending adrenaline to flood her body. Elliot was up and out of his seat at the speed of light, reaching behind her to help her adjust. She turned her head to face the opposite direction of him as she slid into a more comfortable position, hoping he didn't see the stinging tears in her eyes.

"No," she sucked her breath through her teeth. "I don't want to talk or eat or rest or any of it. What I want is to go home and be in my bed and not this painfully uncomfortable mattress. What I want is for Doctor Keller to come in and tell me everything went as planned so I can do the stupid treatment and get on with my life." she tried to stop herself from allowing the sobs to erupt, though they both knew it was pointless.

Elliot made the quick and rash decision to climb into the side of the bed. He was cutting corners and saving time by deciding not to ask if she needed a moment alone — to which she would answer yes and be lying. Instead, he crawled onto the sliver of extra space on the bed and carefully pulled her closer to him.

The cries came harder as her head involuntarily turned into his chest, her tears darkening spots on his shirt. "I know," he whispered into her hair, gently rubbing her shoulder.

This was the part of the darkness that they had both underestimated. The part where it cracked and the mask of emptiness dropped. When darkness became actual darkness and not just avoidance. She cried despite the pain it caused to rip through her chest, and despite the embarrassment it would cause her when she reflected on it.

The anticipation was killing him just as much as it was her, but he couldn't show it. There was an unspoken rule about a moment when a friend was clinging to your chest as they finally cried out their pent-up tears, and that rule was to be as optimistic as possible. Any shadow of a doubt that the outcome was less than perfect was strictly off-limits.

Though, it worried him when Doctor Keller hadn't at least tracked one of the visitors down to explain that everything had gone according to the plan.

"Listen to me." he used his free arm to reach over the tray, grabbing the cup of water with the straw sticking out. "We're gonna take a deep breath, alright? We're gonna take a sip of water, and everything will be okay."

She pulled her head up from his chest, staring at him with teary doe eyes. He curled the corner of his lip upward as he brought the straw closer to her mouth, taking a deep inhale as if she'd follow his lead. She gave him a slow nod with a shaky exhale and took small sips from the cup.

"You have an amazing doctor who will do whatever it takes to get you back on your feet. You know that, right?" he whispered, setting the cup back down so he could wipe a stray tear away with his thumb. "Did I tell you that you had four extra visitors yesterday while you were in surgery?"

She felt herself choke up more at the soft smile than the sentiment. "Really?"

"Yeah," he laughed. "Cragen, Munch, Fin, and Casey all stopped by. They lied to the nurses and said they were family so they could come sit in the waiting room for a few hours."

Olivia giggled through the tears, finally allowing her body to untense just a little bit as she melted against him. "How'd they manage that?"

"I believe it was 'two old gay dads, a black brother, and a sister in law,' but Munch and Fin started arguing about why he was an old gay dad so I sorta tuned out after that." he chuckled, his wide smile falling into a thousand yard stare as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

Seeing fear in her eyes was different now. A slower fear, if that made any sense. Immediate danger that induced fight or flight was different from this. That was pupils blown wide with adrenaline marching alongside her every move. This was... well he wasn't sure. It wasn't something he was so used to seeing that he could easily put it into words. Though, not much about Olivia was easy to put into words. She always had a way about her that took the words right out of his mouth.

He allowed himself to stare at her lips. They were chapped and dry but still somehow one of the most beautiful parts about her. It felt silly to think that, though it was even sillier that it wasn't a foreign feeling. He was coming to realize that staring at any part of her didn't feel new or unfamiliar. It felt like home. It always did.

His heart was shattering at the sight of her. The face he had come to know that was full of brightness was changing. He wanted to claw his way into the past to bring her back, to bring back that familiarity. It wasn't gone though, simply masked by the identity of sickness. The dark circles under her eyes and the way the paleness had taken over the olive-tones in her skin.

Even with chapped lips and tired eyes, she outdid the definition of perfection.

His heart began to race at the thought of maybe, just maybe leaning in a few inches closer. It was crazy, right? Just one of those stray thoughts that were never supposed to be acted upon. Yet, he couldn't push it out of his mind. The crazy and impulsive idea that he could feel even more at home with something other than the sight of her.

When he glanced up, he saw the hesitation and confusion in her eyes. She was as still as stone, her body going rigid in efforts to not move the slightest bit away from whatever he was going to do. She was searching for something in his stare, answers maybe?

She watched for the smallest of twitches or giveaways in his face, anything to detail what was running through his mind. Then, she realized, it wasn't an uncommon look on his face. She had seen it time and time again from afar. The only difference was the realization that she had spent many years misreading what that exact look in his eyes meant.

"Glad to see you're awake," Doctor Keller's voice cut through the moment they had both been trapped in. They turned their heads to see him standing at the foot of her bed. He clutched the manila file against his stomach as he pulled up the rolling chair that was across the room. "How are you feeling?"

Olivia gulped, still reeling from the feeling of jumping from one world to another. "Uh — tired. Tired, anxious, and in pain." she rasped out, feeling Elliot slightly inch away.

"You're probably ready for your next dose of painkillers, I'll let the nurse know as soon as we finish up here," he replied, opening the folder and scanning over it. "I guess we should cut right to the chase."

Olivia felt her blood go cold as she watched him close the folder and fold his hand in his lap. Elliot's pulse sped up and she felt it in his touch, and she assumed he felt just as nervous. She'd learned to read the Doctor's mannerisms over the weeks she had known him, and his demeanor typically displayed his feelings rather loudly.

"The surgery didn't go quite as expected." he frowned softly. "We excised as much of the tumor as we could but when we got in there, we realized that the cells weren't as localized as we had originally anticipated."

"What does that even mean?" Elliot asked, feeling Olivia bury her face back into his chest with another round of sobs. No shock this time, the emotions came straight to the gut like a bullet. His hand instinctively went to the back of her head, holding her closer against him.

"Well, when most people think of a tumor, they think of something like a ball of tissue — when, in fact, it isn't always like that. In Olivia's case, it's more like a web of cancer cells intertwining with healthy cells. There were more major parts of the tumor which we were able to remove, but the surroundings were more malignant and spread unevenly. Some were deeper than our original incision plans which disrupted the surgery's course. There were several smaller and scattered localized clusters of cancer cells that couldn't be removed."

"What now?" Olivia's cries were muffled against Elliot, not bothering to lift her head to look at her doctor.

"Now, our treatment plan changes." he sighed. "Our original plan was to remove all of the tumor and use the chemo and radiation as a way to eradicate any remainder of cancer on the off chance that we missed any microscopic cells. We have to face things a bit differently now. We have the option to combat this with stronger chemo than we had planned, or with a mastectomy and the same original method of treating with chemo and radiation post-op."

"So, let me get this straight," Elliot squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. "Her options are either more surgery or harder chemo?"

"Yes. We would do a round of intensive chemotherapy to see if the remainder of the cancer reacts at all, or we could have more promising results with total removal." Doctor Keller flinched at the sound of another one of Olivia's sobs. "We underestimated the aggressiveness of this. I know it's a lot to take in, but these are the cards we've been dealt and we need to decide which road we're going to take."

"I don't wanna do this anymore," Olivia cried, clutching Elliot's shirt. His wrap around her tightened as he closed his eyes and rested his head against hers.

"In your opinion, which option is the best?" Elliot asked, letting out a stressful exhale of air. She was too overwhelmed and tired to ask the questions which he already knew were racing through her head.

Keller sighed again. "Preferably, the surgical removal. Chemotherapy is incredibly rough on the body and the specifics of what we would need to use to avoid surgery is even more harsh. With the mastectomy, we'd have much more assurance that the cancer is gone and won't be returning. With solely chemo and radiation, those odds drop. Everybody's reaction to chemo is different. It works for some, it doesn't for others. It can be a shot in the dark sometimes."

"Can she take some time and think it over?" Elliot asked. "I mean, she's exhausted and she's had a rough few days. Surely she should have some time to decide what she feels is best for her."

"Of course. Go ahead and sleep on it. We need to understand though that this is a time-sensitive matter at this point. There can't be lapses as long as it took to get here because these odds become grim the longer we avoid them. Within the next few days, we need to have a set game plan on how we're gonna go forward."

The day had turned into night faster than either of them had expected. Olivia had remained silent for the majority of the time, still processing the trauma of the news. Guilt had taken over most of her senses, and she was left wondering if it were her fault for deciding to do IVF first.

She felt even worse for questioning why she had even done it in the first place. The last thing she wanted to be was ungrateful, but seven eggs didn't give her much of a fighting chance. Most people could get at least fourteen and still end up with only one surviving embryo. Was it worth it?

The voice in her head that would usually say 'yes, it's worth it because if you hadn't done it, you would've kicked yourself for the rest of your life,' was clearly off duty because that rationale wasn't kicking in. Just the echoes of how her potential death could be in her hands.

Elliot was asleep in the chair beside the window. The city lights blinked and flickered, overlooking the busy lives that never turned off even when the moon came out. It had become pretty clear to the staff that despite his lack of relation, he wasn't leaving.

Unable to sleep, she was frustrated with her inability to toss and turn accordingly. The scenery was becoming too boring to process any more, she needed some sort of change. Any change was welcome.

She bit her lip to suppress the sounds that tried to escape as she carefully sat up. Her legs swung off the side of the bed, gripping her IV pole with white knuckles as she stood on her feet. The pain was beyond description, a searing white burn through her serrated skin. She was certain her eyes couldn't clench shut any harder than they were as she tried to maintain her balance.

With slow and steady shuffles, her feet never left the ground as she made her way towards the bathroom. The stupid wheels on the IV pole squeaked, stopping her in her tracks with an all too sudden movement. She turned her head to make sure Elliot was still asleep before continuing forward.

The bathroom door felt miles away and each step only worsened the pain. When she finally made it, she made a painstaking effort not to slam the door too loudly. The latch made a soft click and the lights automatically turned to a blinding whiteness.

Seeing herself in the mirror was more than hellish. At first, there was only a distant recognition of who was staring back at her. It was her... she was almost certain. Except, only remnants. Just more shattered pieces. The bags under her eyes were a shade of purple she wasn't even sure had existed before now, and her lips were chapped beyond belief.

When did this happen?

With the arm that wasn't bandaged, she slowly lifted away at the fold of her gown. Her jaw quivered as a shivering exhale quietly burst from her lips. The entire upper left quadrant of her chest was covered in gauze, some parts with tape. It sent an unnerving chill down her spine to look at, knowing that there was a horror underneath it. Her right hand gently ran over the bandage, careful not to press down too hard.

She had another choice now. She was already questioning her decision with the choice to hold off on treatment and do IVF. Now what? She had no steady ground to convince herself that she had made the right choice previously, nothing to hold her firm in her beliefs that she could make the right choice again.

In the past, if she'd ever heard of a woman facing this choice, it would cross her mind as an easy one. Who wouldn't pick the option where the cancer was less likely to return? But standing in the mirror, she got her answer. Mutilation.

It wasn't the disfigurement of vanity she cared about; not even a little bit, actually. This was her body. The only body she had ever known. It would never be an easy choice. How could she make a choice like this? How could she decide whether or not to cut a piece of herself off?

She stared into the mirror but there was no focus in her vision. Everything had blurred as she disassociated from it all. She'd need to make a choice at some point, but even a million years wouldn't be enough time to make it.

The sound of her own thoughts swirling loudly in her head must've covered the gentle noise of Elliot's footsteps because she hadn't heard him sneak up on her. Only when she saw him in the corner of the mirror was she aware of him.

"It's impossible, Elliot." She murmured, her voice still raspy from her time under anesthesia. He just stared at her, his blue eyes a little less bright. The agony on his face was there, she could see it, it was just quieter. He was trying to hide it from her but neither of them could deny how it felt. It was sad. Plain and simple. It was in their human nature to try to find bigger, scarier words to describe the situation in its entirety. The truth was, it was just fucking sad. They were sad.

"You didn't ask for this, Liv."

She blinked as she stared at him, waiting for something, anything to come. The moment was too silent, it was too calm. She waited for tears or for yelling, or maybe even the goddamn answer she needed so badly. It didn't come. Just his reflection and hers and the realization that this was all horribly sad.

There were consequences of her future actions and she didn't ask for this. She didn't do anything to put herself in this position. She just ended up here by some twisted fate. That was it. She didn't ask for this.

Yet, she had to face it as if she did. Her choices would be responsible for her future and she had not chosen this path. She wasn't a child who had done something wrong and now had to accept responsibility. She didn't ask for this.

"What do I do?" she asked.

Elliot's mouth opened and closed a few times before he quietly shook his head. "I can't make this choice for you. I think you know that."

She gave what was probably the most pathetic chuckle that ever existed. "Yeah, I know. I was just hoping that maybe I was wrong."

His brows raised as his eyes trailed off and away from her. "Doctor Keller gave you a week. Do you think you need that week? Or do you already know what you're gonna do and you're just too scared to say it out loud?"

Carefully, she turned to face him and not just his reflection. Her eyes said all he needed to know; what words could never master. As sad as her eyes were, they were confident. She had skated thin ice with postponing treatment, hoping it was a choice that would show validation at some point. Playing that game was even riskier the second time around.

She nodded. That was the best she could do in terms of an answer because putting the words out into the universe, somewhere other than in the safety of her mind was scary.

He held his hand out to her, nodding in return. The choice was made, they both knew it. It would be terrifying and absolutely the hardest thing she ever did. A choice that came down to her life versus her body. She took a hold of his extended hand and he rushed over to the non-injured side of her to help her walk back to bed.

Her mind drifted to Eva and the night she visited her; the flipped coin method of making her choices. Eva told her that she wouldn't need to look at the coin to know what to do because if she was disappointed with the results, she would know what she really wanted.

Only this time, she wanted none of this.