The Letter

Before Kathy Sent the Letter:

“Daddy, don’t take my toys!” Eli shrieked, grabbing several of the cars his father had just dumped into a box. 

Elliot sighed, tired, his headache worsening with his son’s shouting. “I’m not taking them. We have to pack them up for the move, remember?”

Eli shook his head vehemently. “You’re lying. You’re taking ‘em.”

“Eli, I’m not lying…” Elliot started, trailing off as the boy ran from the room, rescued toy cars in hand. 

Elliot sat back against the wall and rubbed his temples. Reasoning with Eli was something that required patience, a commodity Elliot was in scant supply of. He wasn’t sleeping well. He was worried about this move. He was worried about his new job. He was worried because he was leaving four kids behind in one country and taking one with him. He was missing the job. Okay, Elliot didn’t miss the job that as much as he missed Olivia. 

Try as he might to conjure comforting images of her smile, of laughing in the squad car during a stakeout, of sharing drinks after a long case, all he could see when he thought of her was that look of horror. He shot a teenage girl. People were dead on the squadroom floor. Sister Peg. And there was blood, so much blood. Elliot felt his breathing quicken and fought to get it under control, lest Eli run back in for more cars only to find his father in the middle of a panic attack. 

He’d had a few since the shooting. One the night of. He woke up screaming Olivia’s name, having dreamt that he’d frozen, unable to take the shot, and Jenna had fired once more instead, hitting Olivia. Kathy had comforted him afterwards, bringing him down from what had quickly turned to hyperventilating, but awkwardness had hung between them ever since.

Elliot’s nightmares contained Olivia and fatal gunshot wounds more often than not, and each time, he wound up muttering her name in his sleep or screaming it in agony. Once she was sure he wouldn’t hurt himself with his midnight tossing, turning, and thrashing, Kathy had suggested he sleep in a different room for a while. He did so gladly. The nightmares hadn’t ceased, but they’d lessened considerably.

He and Kathy still weren’t sleeping in the same bed. He wondered what they’d do in Italy, if they’d pretend everything was fine. He figured they would. He wondered why she wasn’t as tired of pretending as he was. 

“Elliot, everything okay?”

Kathy’s question stirred him from his thoughts, he looked up at her. “Yeah.”

“So you’re stealing Eli’s cars?” she teased.

He shrugged. “He thinks I am.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just tired. Still not sleeping very well.”

“Have you talked to Olivia?”

Elliot shook his head. “No.”

“Oh. You’re not gonna say goodbye?”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea.” I’ll wanna stay.

Kathy nodded. “Well, if that’s what you think is best.”

“It is.” 
 
“Well, do you wanna go convince Eli we’re not stealing his toys?”

Elliot smiled slightly. “Sure.”