*Disclaimer: I wish I own SVU. Sadly, I don't.
Author's note: I know that for the story, Dickie wanted his dad to call him Richard, yet I still used "Dickie said". It's just that it felt weird calling him "Richard" because everyone else called him "Dickie". And I have no idea why I didn't call Stabler "Elliott". I started writing the story calling him "Stabler" and I got stuck on that.

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It was three whole weeks since Shane Newsome died. Dickie just hasn't been the same. Shane's loss really hit him.

Stabler watched his son curl up on the couch. He was sitting on the couch, moping, on a beautiful Saturday. It's been the third Saturday he did that. Stabler decided to sit down next to him, hoping he'd talk. He couldn't stand seeing him so depressed.

"Hey sport," Stabler said. Dickie didn't answer.

"You've been really quiet," Stabler said. He still didn't answer.

"Dickie…,"

"Richard," he said.

"What?"

"Dad, its Richard. I hate being called Dickie," Dickie said.

"I've always called you that," Stabler said.

"Yeah, well, when you're a teenager named 'Dick', you're bound to get teased," Dickie said.

"Okay…Richard," Stabler said, "What are you doing inside? It's beautiful out."

"I don't feel like it," Dickie replied.

"Come on, you've been sitting around for three weeks," Stabler said, putting his hand on Dickie's shoulder. He pulled away.

"You don't get it do you?" Dickie said. He looked right at his father, and then burst into tears. Stabler took him into his arms.

"Don't get what?" Stabler asked.

"Nothing, forget it," Dickie sobbed.

"You can tell me anything," Stabler said.

"I can't," Dickie said.

"Why?" Stabler asked. Dickie didn't answer him. He continued to cry.

"Hey, hey," Stabler said, "How about we go for a ride?"

"I don't want to talk," Dickie said.

"We don't have to, it'd just be nice to get out of the house," Stabler said, getting up. Dickie sighed and followed his dad into the garage.

"So how's school?" Stabler asked as they both got into the car.

"I said I didn't want to talk," Dickie replied.

"I'm not trying to talk about what you think I am. I just want to know how you're doing grades-wise," Stabler said.

"Fine," Dickie said. He buckled his seatbelt and looked out the window.

"Nice day, huh?" Stabler said as they pulled off the driveway.

"I guess," Dickie said.

"Come on, son, at least enjoy the sunshine," Stabler said. Dickie turned away from him and looked out the window. Stabler sighed. He wondered if Dickie was hiding something. There was something up, and he knew it.

"Having trouble with any schoolwork?" Stabler asked.

"I already told you, it's fine," Dickie said.

"You sure?" Stabler said.

"Dad, I already told you. I don't want to talk," Dickie said.

"Well, if you do," Stabler said, "you know I'm right here."

"Okay," Dickie said, still looking out the window.

The two drove for blocks in awkward silence. Stabler looked over at Dickie again. He was crying.

"Here," Stabler said, as he opened the compartment box for a tissue. Dickie took it and wiped his nose.

"I can't go to school anymore," Dickie said.

"Why not?" Stabler asked.

"Because…because…everyone asks about Shane," Dickie said, "And all I want is for people to stop bringing up the fact that he's gone."

"Ignore them," Stabler said.

"No, I can't just ignore them!" Dickie said, "Shane's gone and I can't do anything."

"I wish I could've done more," Stabler said.

"So do I," Dickie said, "I would've done anything."

"You really cared about him, didn't you?" Stabler said.

"I didn't really have any friends but him," Dickie said, "I loved him."

"Of course you did, he was your best friend," Stabler said.

"No, no, I loved him," Dickie said.

"I know, son. Like how I love your mother, you, Olivia," Stabler said.

"No, no!" Dickie said, "You know what? Forget it." He pounded on the window.

"What?" Stabler asked.

"Nothing, it's nothing. I never should've brought it up," Dickie said.

"Dickie, if something's bothering you, tell me, I'll listen," Stabler said. He pulled up into a parking lot.

"I can't," Dickie said, burying his face in his hand.

"Tell me," Stabler said, "We won't leave the car until you tell me."

"Y-You'll freak out," Dickie said.

"It's not about drugs, is it?" Stabler asked.

"No, no, it has nothing to do with that."

"Then what?"

"No, I told you. You won't understand."

"I won't if you don't tell me."

"No matter how much you say that you won't."

"Dickie…"

"Stop calling me that!"

"I'm sorry. Richard please, I'm your father. I just want to know what's bothering you."

"No, there's no point if I do. It's too late."

"Is it about Shane?"

Dickie didn't say anything. He looked away from Stabler again.

"Did something happen with you and Shane?"

"No," Dickie replied.

"Did he hurt you?" Stabler asked.

"No."

"Did he threaten you?"

"No."

"Did he steal something from you?"

"No."

"Is is a secret he asked you to keep? Is it dangerous, did he put you in danger? Did he do anything bad to you?"

"No! Dad, just stop please! I loved him okay! I was in love with him!"

Stabler didn't know what to say. He looked at his son, who was no hysterical in tears. He realized it, everything that happened. That was why Dickie would do anything for Shane. That was why he beat up Harold Moore.

"See! You wouldn't understand it!" Dickie said.

"No, it's just that-"

"You hate me now, don't you?" Dickie said.

"No, no, I just never expected it," Stabler replied.

"Well there, now you know," Dickie said, "I was in love with Shane."

"That's why you gave him the card, that was why…"

"Yes."

Dickie then fell into his father's arms. Stabler held him tight. He could feel him trembling.

"I'm sorry," was all Stabler could say.