Disclaimer: I don't own SVU. And why in the world would you sue me for writing fanfiction on FFNET?! That just seems absurd, to me.
Summary: She could only pray Elliot's God really could perform miracles. E/O Friendship.
A/N: Ok. So. Yeah. I randomly wrote this today…and I figured that I might as well post it. Cause, oddly enough, I like it. It could use a lil' work, I guess, and I haven't really looked over it. But let me know what you think. It's angsty. I'll warn you that much. And I wrote anything that you see here, most likely, intentionally—including the sentence fragments. It's called a style of stream of consciousness, people. At least I know how to spell…most things. :P Again, please review. I appreciate it greatly. Let the story begin...
"Do you think it was the…right thing to do?" His voice was rough, as always, and anyone else would have thought it was just the same, just like always. They would have thought it was a simple question a cop was asking his partner on the front steps leading to his house. A simple question. Making sure. Just like always. Always like always. But she knew better. She knew better, indeed. She could hear the pain laced with his words. The inquisitive question, the question lying behind everything he always said…begging that he did, in fact, do the right thing. That it wasn't out of anger. That it wasn't because he was finally becoming what he had always feared he would become. He was silently praying—the devout catholic he was—that he hadn't become his nightmare…a monster. Always fearing. Always, like always. She knew. She saw the question in his eyes, the prayer on his lips. But she knew something he didn't.
He wasn't a monster.
But there was always that question, in his voice, in his eyes, in his whole entire being.
She knew that question that lay behind his every word well because it lay behind every word she spoke, as well.
She could feel his eyes on her, those blue, piercing, hopeful eyes that shone like a beacon in the night. Those eyes had guided her home, back to sane ground, more times than she could remember. They were a beacon. They really were. They were her north star.
She knew that her own brown eyes were the same for him, on days like this. That was why he asked her. That was why he silently questioned because he knew that she would answer, not so silently, and, for another day, he would be sane. Well, as sane as any of them could be in this job. He would be safe, from himself, for another day. And she was glad she could give him that.
She was glad to be his beacon, his safe ground.
So, knowing this, she nodded, softly, surely, her brown eyes finding his blue.
"You did the right thing, El." She whispered, her voice sounding stronger than she felt. That was good. That was a good sign. "You did the right thing." He took in a deep breath and turned away from her, closing his eyes. He let out the breath and she could see the tension flood from his body. When he opened his eyes again, staring off into the distance in front of him, his gaze hazy and unfocused, she could see the fire, that searing question in his eyes, soften a little. He nodded, slowly, and expelled the breath he had taken in, once more—his second--the warmth turning into a cool mist in the freezing night air. The breath shook, the second time around, but when he finally released it, he focused back on her, a softer look on his face.
Somber.
"She won't live until morning." He stated, his eyes back down on his hands. His thumb was brushing over the back of his hand, over his wedding band—she noticed the softer look in his eyes as he gazed at it, providing him with another type of safety net she knew she could never provide him. For him having it, though, she was glad. His thumb was going in smooth, fluid, circular motions over his bare hand. For a second, she wondered if he was freezing. He probably was…but, then again, she figured that he didn't even notice. She knew that, if she was him, she wouldn't notice.
Hell, she didn't even notice the cold until she wondered if he was cold.
Funny how things work some times.
"I know." She nodded, still looking at his hand. "But her killer will go away for life." She knew it wasn't justice. He knew it wasn't justice. But it meant something, didn't it? Maybe it did. Maybe it didn't. She didn't really know, anymore. All she knew was that a girl was going to die tonight while some man lived another day. It wasn't justice. It wasn't fair. But it was something. It just…had to be. If it wasn't…then, really…what was the point?
She didn't know…maybe there wasn't one anymore.
Maybe there just…wasn't a point.
To any of it.
But she wouldn't tell Elliot that. Not now, not ever.
Then again, maybe she didn't even have to. He probably already knew. It was probably something that was shared between them subconsciously, just like the knowledge that they kept each other sane, at times like this.
Or at least gave whatever sanity they could.
"So she dies and he lives." He didn't growl the words that she had been thinking moments earlier. There was no anger in his voice. Only a silent resignation. He didn't know what to do about it anymore.
No, maybe she really didn't have to tell him. Maybe he already knew.
There was no point.
"But three other girls get to live another day. Maybe dozens of other girls, as well." She whispered, looking out into the distance. It was cold enough to be snowing. She figured that it was a good thing that it wasn't snowing. Snowing should be reserved for happy occasions. Good childhood memories. Christmas. Cold nights where families like the man next to her, and his family, all wrapped themselves in a blanket and drank hot cocoa and laughed and smiled and slept, peacefully. Snow was reserved for winter nights like those.
Not nights like this.
Not a night where a little girl was going to die.
"She would live another day, too, if I hadn't sent her in there." He whispered, staring off into the distance with her. She turned back to him, catching his eyes.
"You did the right thing, Elliot." She whispered back, shaking her head. She wasn't sure whether it was to shake away the impending sense of dread, the cold, or to rid the thoughts that were making their way into her head. "And she might live." She knew that, logically, the girl wouldn't make it through the night. Both of them knew that. She had already said it earlier, anyways. He let out a bitter, sarcastic, cold laugh.
"It'd take a miracle, Liv." She turned away from him, then, looking down at her clasped hands. She hadn't noticed that her hands were bare, as well. She watched her thumb subconsciously run smooth, circular motions on the back of her own, bare, hand.
"You believe in a God of miracles, don't you?" She asked softly, her tone more-so that of stating a fact than of a harsh accusation. She found herself mesmerized by the circular path of her thumb. Her voice shook slightly, but she took no note of it. "You have your faith--"
"Yeah, but you know just as well as I do that she won't-" He cut her off only to be cut off by her in return.
"But you have your faith." She repeated, standing up from the step she had been sitting on. She grabbed her gloves from her pockets, pulling them over her hands. She didn't feel them against her numb skin, but the logical side of her brain told her to put them on, anyways. So she did. "You have your faith, Elliot." She looked over at him. He was watching her intently, still sitting on the stair leading into his house. His hands were still bare, but she knew he would go inside when she left. He would warm up soon enough after that, so she didn't have to worry. "You have your faith and your wife and your children—your family. You have all of them. You did the right thing, Elliot." She broke her gaze and started walking down the steps, turning around to look at him once her feet hit the cement, leading to the pathway where her car was. She'd have to drive back to the station, after this. She still had work to do. But he didn't have to know that, either.
She turned back to him, staring into those hopeful blue orbs. "You have your family and your religion and your miracles and the fact that you did the right thing. And, in the end, that'll pull you through the night."
That question was still in his eyes, still burning there. It was quieter, now, than before, and she knew that, another day, she would have to tell him, once more, that he wasn't a monster.
"Go inside, El. Go kiss your wife and your kids and say your prayers knowing that you did the right thing, tonight. Tell Kathy I said hi and take tomorrow off. I'll cover for you, or something. Cragen will understand." Elliot nodded, slowly, once more, his thumb still brushing over his wedding band. It was one of the rare occasions that he willingly took time off. She was thankful for it.
Yeah, she knew that she'd have to tell him, again, another day. She knew she would.
She turned to walk away again, waving her hand over her shoulder in a gesture of departure. "Night, El." She said, her voice reaching the coldness of the nighttime air.
She also knew that, another day, he would have to tell her the same exact thing.
"Liv!" He called, still sitting on the steps. She turned around, once more, meeting those thankful blue eyes. The question was finally gone…but it would be back. "Thanks, partner." She smiled softly, nodding, and Elliot smiled back. Olivia finally turned around, not looking back, heading towards her car and starting the engine when she was settled in the seat.
She heard the slamming of his front door and smiled softly to herself. She knew he would go inside and kiss his wife and all of his children's heads and spend the rest of the night, hopefully, in a forgetful bliss. She could only hope that he would forget.
Who knew, maybe that God of his really did perform miracles.
Olivia drove towards the precinct, ignoring the look, the burning question, residing in her brown eyes in the rear view mirror. She would ignore it for the whole night, if she could. She would ignore it for all of eternity, really, if she could. She would fight the question away with her work. Unlike Elliot, who had his miracles and his wife and his children…Olivia had nothing left. She just had the cold silence that met her when she stepped through the doors to the precinct, running a still-cold hand over her face, once again bare after she removed her gloves and threw them onto her desk.
Yeah, she knew that he would have to tell her the same thing, another day.
She rest her hand against her chin, as she sat down in her seat, staring at the open file of a young girl who wouldn't survive the night, knowing that she would get the call, in a couple of seconds…minutes…hours…that the little girl didn't make it. That the stab wounds were just too much for the poor girl's body to take. She also knew that she would get a call, in a couple of days…weeks…months…years, maybe, that the man responsible would go to jail.
She wondered if it really meant anything, after all.
Olivia stared at the file, ignoring the tears that started to sting at her eyes.
The phone rang and Olivia picked it up, not noticing her fingers tremble as she gripped the object tightly.
She wondered if it was all worth it.
She closed her eyes and, silently, prayed. She prayed for everything. And, while she never really believed in miracles…while she never really believed in anything…she prayed. Olivia's bare hands held the phone, trembling, as a voice met her ears on the other side of the line.
For that minute, that moment, that second, that mere instance…Olivia could only pray that Elliot's God really did perform miracles, for that little girl's sake. She could only pray for a miracle at midnight.
Silently, Olivia wondered if, after all of this telling of each other, assuring the other that they weren't monsters…
She took in a breath, closing her eyes, awaiting the news that she hoped would never come.
Maybe, one day, they'd both actually believe each other.
A/N: Review, please. Tell me what you think.