Blinking at the sight of the man in the door, Chris had a moment of thinking he had answered the door himself, and he could see himself doing so, but he shook his head to clear that thought.
"Elliot," He breathed out after a moment, eyes blinking a few more times as he looked down at his feet, playing the part of the penitent drunk, the man who needed somewhere to go, "Can I come in?" He need to get rid of some of the energy, the force, he had in his body, and Stabler wanted it, he thought. Stabler liked it. Chris liked it, too, liked giving it. So, this was perfect. Even if his mind was again sliding to the 'How am I talk to myself?' mode, confusing Elliot for himself.