Nuclear Summer

The end of a nuclear summer spread out in front of the smudged windows. Red sunlight spilled across the room, across the magazines, the half-filled cups and the dust that swam in the still air.

She was sweating on the sheets. Three hours had passed since he changed them and now the new set were damp to the touch. It was stifling in the enclosed room. Occasionally he'd wipe his brow and sip from a cracked coffee cup full of water.

It was noon when she opened her eyes.

"Where are we?" Olivia asked in a cracked, parched voice. She lifted her head and scanned around the enclosed space.

"We're somewhere safe."

Olivia rubbed her temples and fixed her brown eyes on Elliot. He was unshaven. "I didn't want to go underground," she said sadly.

Elliot ran a hand across his stubbly chin and sighed. She couldn't stop looking at his eyes. Normally they were sharp, like blue icepicks. They weren't kind eyes. They were intense, angry, frightening. So many times she'd seen them narrow on a suspect. And sometimes they'd flash anger at her. It was a sullen hate, terrible in its intensity.

Now they were dull, like the heat had cast cataracts over them. He was tired. "I did something I'm not proud of last night," Elliot mumbled. Olivia craned her neck to observe his body language. The tired recliner sagged under his slumped weight.

"Last night, I - "

She waited for him to finish, but suddenly a bolt shot through her aching head like lightning. The pillow was cool and soft and the urge to sleep overwhelmed Olivia. Before Elliot could grasp her hand, she drifted off.

He settled back into the recliner. It hurt to see her in pain. Force-feeding his partner headache powders wasn't on his list of great things to do. Being stuck in a stifling, dim ex-hospital room wasn't so great either. This guilt would never go away.

In his mind's eye, it all played out again. The smell of gunfire, mingled with the scent of exhaust fumes from the interstate above. The coppery smell of blood that covered his hands. Cragen clutching his chest, falling over in the dust. Munch, brooding under the bridge, mopping the blood from Olivia's hair.

"You didn't leave me any choice," Elliot said out loud. Outside an ice cream cart droned by. The curtains were dusty and heavy.

She wanted it. You know she wanted it.

Olivia.

She lay there lifeless, her mouth hanging open slightly. There were so many nights they'd climb to the roof of the precinct and talk (and sometimes argue) under the starry sky. Seeing the heavens like that made him believe God was close. Now Elliot wasn't so sure. He'd sinned in the worst way. It was like stealing.

It took all his courage to lay a hand on her forehead, lest she wake up and wonder what happened. He could feel her pulse beating through her temple. It was still bruised and sore from the hit she got. Seeing her look so innocent and fragile brought tears to his eyes. All she wanted was life.

"I'm getting too old to hold out for the whole love business. If I ever have a kid all that has to be included," she said on the precinct roof. "Now I don't know if it'll ever happen."

Elliot chuckled, staring out at the sky. "I think you're being a little hard on yourself. When time comes to have a kid, you'll have a kid," he said.

" Everytime my mother looked at me, she saw a failure in her life. Any kid of mine can't and won't be raised that way," she said, involuntarily reaching out for Venus.

"You wouldn't. I know you too well."

Olivia studied Elliot's face. "Me having a baby would have to be a miracle right now, and those things just don't happen anymore," she said, smiling sadly. He almost said something but stopped.

The weight of the room, the night before and what the future would bring brought him down. Maybe it wouldn't work. Or maybe he could just finally say "I love you" and explain that, yes, miracles do take place. They were both miracles, thought dead too many times for anything else to be true.

Olivia stirred. Her groan startled Elliot. Dusk had fallen outside but the room was still awfully stuffy.

"Is there anything to eat in here, Elliot?"

He screwed his eyes shut tight.

"Elliot?"

When he opened them, the colors of the room seemed to sharpen. Elliot knew what he had to do now. Everything fell into focus. They'd both be better off.

"I'll go check if there's anything," he said, getting up. He allowed himself one long look. "You know, I...sometimes I think of that night we talked on the roof, when the stars were out..."
Elliot's voice cracked.

"I'll go check," he said again, and left the room like a ghost, fading into the red sky.