Summary: Let's just say Olivia had a great relationship with her grandmother. What if she taught her something that is Olivia's vent after a bad case? Inspired by a wonderful book I read in the seventh grade. I can't remember the name. How sad is that? lol
Disclaimers: Not mine.
Part: 2 of 5 of the "How To Deal With Your Pain" series
Notes: No flames
Elliot, Fin, and John all stared at Olivia as she skillfully twirled and pulled and looped the green yarn around the needle she had in her hands. This had become a habit for her. She would go up to the crib, pull out a little plug-in CD player, put on her Charlotte Church CD, and crochet. They were all confused by it, but never said anything. Whenever they tried to talk to her when she crocheted, she never answered. It was like she was in her own little world. She almost had a whole afghan in her lap. There was a ball of yarn in front of her on the bed she was sitting on. Her tongue was poked out of the corner of her mouth and she had a look of concentration and contentment on her face.
Olivia wasn't even thinking about their last case. All she concentrated on was the movement of the needle and yarn. Her grandmother had taught her to crochet as a little girl and whenever they saw each other, they would have races to see who could make the longest chain. Olivia won most of the time. When she died, however, there was nobody to crochet with. Her grandmother told her to do this when she was mad or hurt. It was better to take her anger and pain out on the yarn rather than herself or someone. This method had always stuck with her.
"What are we watching?" Cragen said from behind the staring men. All three jumped and turned to him.
"Look," Munch said and they silently made a little space for him. He wasn't completely shocked. Olivia had told him about her habit and he thought it was sweet. What he hadn't known was that she did it here.
"All right, guys, let's leave her alone. Give her some pri--" Cragen started, but when Olivia started humming to "Carrickfergus", they all stopped, mesmerized by her beautiful voice. Then she began to sing and they were all floored to their spot. When the song was over, they all clapped and Olivia screamed, startled. She turned off the CD player and laughed.
"Are you guys trying to give me a heartattack?" she said breathlessly and blushed, embarrassed.
"You never told us you could sing," Munch said.
"No one asked," she answered, still blushing. They all filed in and sat on the beds around her. Today was slow, so they took a break. Elliot sat next to her and fingered the afghan.
"Nice," he told her.
"Thanks," she replied.
"You love me, right?" Elliot asked, cuddling the blanket close playfully.
"Oh, yeah, I sure do. Not that much, though. It's for the Captain, stupid," Olivia answered, snatching it back. They all laughed and Cragen kissed her on the cheek.
"Well, that's nice," he said. Olivia smiled and began working the needle again. They were afraid they'd lose her in her little world again, but she spoke as she crocheted.
"So, what's going on?"
"Who taught you to crochet?" Munch asked.
"My grandma. She told me to take my anger out on the needle and yarn instead of everyone else and it's worked so far."
"The case get to you?" Fin. Olivia paused in her work and stared ahead, then continued, this time furiously. Her face turned a slight shade of red and tears filled her eyes. Her body began trembling and she started missing the holes. "Liv? You okay?"
"Olivia, what's wrong?" Elliot asked and put his arm around her shoulders. She jumped at the contact and dropped her yarn and needle. Elliot kept his arm there and stroked her back. "Talk to me, Liv."
She just started crying then and there and buried her face in her hands. She didn't know why she was crying. It felt like everything was crashing down on her.
"I don't know. I-I'm just so tired and upset and. . .and. . ." Elliot pulled her into his arms and rocked her back and forth, whispering soothing words while the others left quietly, knowing Elliot could handle this better than any of them.
"I know, I know. It's been tough on all of us. This has been a rough week. It's okay, though. It's okay, Sweetie. We're all fine. We're just tired." Elliot comforted Olivia until she relaxed against him, exhausted from crying. He laid her down on the bed and pulled the covers over her, pushing her hair back off of her forehead. "'Night, Liv."
"Stay," she pleaded and he smiled, joining her under the sheets. They turned toward each other and took the other in their arms. "Thanks."