11. Argumentation

*Elliot's POV*

"Is Ellie here?" I don't like this kid already.

"Yeah. El?" I call, looking back at the brunette on the couch.

"Let him in," she requests. "Don't be overprotective like Fin."

I roll my eyes and open the door all the way. Ellie looks up at smiles at whoever this boy is. I feel weirdly uncomfortable. But I know Ellie doesn't want me here while her...friend is.

"Ellie, I'm gonna head to the precinct, okay?"

"To talk to Fin?"

"To talk to your mother."

"Talk to Amanda. She doesn't have the same opinion as the two of them," she requests.

"Am I missing something here?" the boy asks.

"Everything," Ellie smirks. I take that as my cue to leave.

*Olivia's POV*

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"She was awake when your alarm went off. She was sitting in the kitchen," he tells me. "I don't think she's really sleeping."

"Is that the only proof you have?"

"Sort of. She went back to bed and I checked on her like a half hour later. She was faking it."

"How do you know?" I'm worried, but very annoyed because of how stressed I am.

"How does Ellie sleep?"

"On her stomach, arms around her pillow." She's done that since she was little.

"She was on her side, arm over the edge."

I nod and sit back. "So what am I supposed to do about this? I can't just make her sleep." I think back to what I did go help me sleep. "I'm not putting her on sleeping pills!"

"I didn't say you had to. I'm saying get her help."

Get her help? She doesn't want help! The only person more stubborn than me is her.

"She won't agree to that, El," I say, standing up, going to go back to my desk. He stops me.

"You didn't either," he reminds me.

"I'm not forcing her. I only went when I found out I was pregnant. She doesn't have anything to do anything for, so she's not going to do anything."

"Why?"

"She's more stubborn than I am. Remember how she wouldn't even take pain pills?"

"You're her mother. She's a minor. You can make her do whatever the hell you want."

"Well if she refuses to talk, then what's the point of paying for a shrink?"

"Make her talk to Huang," Elliot says.

"She wouldn't even talk to him when we were on Ashley's case."

I let him follow me back to the squadroom. "You just have to try, Liv," he says.

"I will when I can. Is that all you came down here for?" I ask, trying not to sound as rude as I think it does.

"You know a boy your daughter is hanging out with?"

"Logan," I say.

"Still think he's a rich punk," Fin calls from his desk.

"He's a nice kid," Amanda defends.

"And you don't have kids," Fin fires back, not being all that serious.

"Yet. And you're seriously overprotective. You had him tagged as a rich punk as soon as he opened the door when you went to talk to him."

"So you got time to talk to him and prove otherwise?"

"Not really, but he and El would work on homework all the time at my place."

I raise my eyebrows and Amanda's quick to save herself. "I was there the whole time, I swear. And you should've seen the look on her face when I brought up the sex topic."

Now I'm really uncomfortable. "What?" I emphasize the word.

"She told me she doesn't even want the smallest chance of having kids. Chill. And especially after what happened to her..."

I close my eyes for a second.

"I still don't trust him," Fin says.

This time, we all roll our eyes. Everyone agrees that Amanda is right.

*Ellie's POV*

"What happened to you?!" Logan asks, sitting next to me right after the door closes.

I stare straight ahead, not sure if telling him now was the best idea. I could've waited and avoided him at school like...all day.

"It's...complicated. Sort of. Kinda. Not really. Maybe. I don't know, but...its commonplace around where my mom works."

"What do you mean?"

I take a breath then pinch my lips together. My eyes look to my left at him. Very strictly, I say, "Pity me at all, and you leave."

He gives me a strange look, but nods.

"I was raped."

I look away from him and we fall into an uncomfortable silence.

"How?" he asks after a solid five minutes.

"How do you think? I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. They picked me up. Put me in a car. They took me somewhere. Knocked me out. I was raped. I was found. I'm in recovery."

"Okay," he replies calmly to my outburst.

"Sorry," I whisper, picking up my textbook and notebook.

"Don't be. You can't control this."

"So I'm told."

"It's true!"

He goes to take my hand. I'm not paying attention so when I feel him touch me, I jump. I don't even speak.

"It's gonna be okay, El."

"All things I believed for victims until it happened."

"El," he says, touching my shoulder. Not only does the gentle gesture make me jump since it hurts because of the cut from my collarbone to my mid-upper arm, but it freaks me out. Yet again.

"Please...don't...touch me. Please," I tell him forcibly. I feel heat behind my eyes. "I can't right now, okay? I'm seriously on edge and I can barely eat or sleep right now. I'm sorry, but it's way too much for me."

"Stop apologizing. I'm not gonna say I get it, because I don't. But you have people to go to. I'll be here too, okay?"

"I just feel like a target."

"You aren't."

"You don't get it! My grandmother was raped. She had my mom. My mom was raped. She had me! I'm a rape baby just my mom is! The only way this family reproduced was because of rape! It isn't..." I trail off.

"Are you..."

"I'm not pregnant! But I'm stopping this damn chain because I'm never having kids! Decided long time ago."

I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, holding a breath.

"Enough about me, okay?" I ask on a much lighter note.

"O-Okay," he agrees, oddly confused at my sudden change of mood.

He helps me until Elliot comes back. It's a good couple hours later, so it's a silent agreement that he is going to leave.

Elliot's standing at the counter when the door shuts. I hoist myself up off the couch to go find something to eat.

"How many times do I have to tell you to use the crutches?" Elliot asks me.

"None. I won't listen so it's not worth it."

"Liv's right. You are more stubborn than she is."

"It's a gift." I sit down. "I'm hungry."

"What do you want?"

"Pizza."

"Don't you want that every day?" he asks.

"Do I get it every day? Have I had it in the past couple of days?" I ask back, raising my eyebrows.

"Fine."

"Thank you," I say in a singsong voice.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"I'm home," I hear Mom say.

"Hey," I reply, not paying attention, my mouth full of pizza.

"Really?" I hear, still not paying attention.

"What?" I ask. My eyes keep looking from my text book to my notebook, copying equations down.

"You're holding your pizza with one hand and your pencil with the other."

"I consider it skill," I say, taking another bite of my pizza.

*Olivia's POV*

I watch my daughter bury herself in homework and pizza. The latter I would see no problem with. I would do that now if I could. But she's so much like me it scares me. She's avoiding her problems with getting waist deep in work.

"Ellie," I say quietly, after sitting here for a good ten minutes watching her copy down problems that make no sense. Within a minute she has a problem that goes halfway down her paper and she can explain what it all means perfectly.

I don't get her work and she doesn't get mine. Hm.

"What?" she replies, barely paying attention.

"It's late. Take a break. Go to bed."

"I'll take a break when I'm done with this," she retorts, motioning to her book.

"How much more do you have?"

"I'm on C9L4...gotta get up to...C9L8," she replies, scanning her memo book.

"What?"

"Chapter 9, Lesson 4. Chapter 9, Lesson 8. Logan helped me with all of them so I have a few done from each already."

"El, you have to sleep."

"It's only 8:30," she defends.

"You've been working on this for 6 hours!" I exclaim. "That's ridiculous."

"School is 7 hours."

"Ellie, seriously. Please, don't do this!"

"Don't do what?"

"Bury yourself in your work. It's no way to cope."

"You do it," she points out.

"I didn't do it when I was raped. I went to therapy."

"Because you were having a baby!" she says loudly, looking up at me for the first time. She looks like she might cry, but she won't. I know she won't.

And, somehow, she either found out or guessed something completely true.

It pisses me off.