Part 1

Elliot Stabler faced Manhattan's worst criminals day after day. He solved even the hardest cases. More than once, he found his life in danger – and every time it was spared due to either luck or his own quick thinking or strength. Somehow, he was able to keep going after seeing the most horrific crime scenes, and hearing victims – children – describe the terrible things that were done to them.

And yet he could not even bring himself to put pen to paper.

He had tried many times before. Each time he had a different strategy. If he wasn't trying to down scotch until any sense of loss escaped him, he sat down at a table and denied himself the privilege of getting up until the paper was signed. Nothing worked. If anything, the lengths he went to gather up whatever it was inside of him that would sign the papers, only served to cause him to put it off even longer.

He could do nothing else during his hesitation but think, and thinking meant remembering.

How many times had he been down this road? This time, he was at his apartment, with the papers sitting right in front of him. An unopened bottle of scotch and an empty glass were right next to them. The pen was in his hand, but he waited.

Knocks on the door brought him out of his reverie. He checked the time: 8 p.m. He hadn't been home more than an hour. Happy for the distraction, he opened the door, not caring who it was as long as it wasn't Kathy asking when he was going to finally sign. It wasn't.

"Kathleen."

His daughter stood at his door, her eyes focusing on the ground in front of her. After a few seconds, she mustered up the courage to face him, and said, "You were right."

He pulled her into the apartment and closed the door, divorce papers long forgotten. "I was right?" he asked, as Kathleen sat down on his couch, and he next to her.

She nodded, but wouldn't look him in the eye. "About Kevin," she said, her voice breaking.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, and gently cradled her chin, bringing her face to look at him. "What did he do to you?" he asked, both to her and as a rhetorical question to himself.

Kathleen was shaking. "We and a few friends went to Amy's house after school, just to hang out. Her parents were there, and Mom said it was okay because it's a Friday. We ended up watching a movie, and during the middle of it, he gets up and asks me if he could get me a drink. I told him ice water. But after he left I changed my mind. I went into the kitchen to tell him and he was…" she trailed off, tears freely flowing from her eyes. She could hardly say anymore.

Elliot bit his lip and brought Kathleen closer to him. "What was he doing, Sweetheart?" he whispered to her. "Was he putting something in your drink?"

Kathleen nodded, sniffling. "A couple of pills." Upon saying that, she nearly doubled over, but Elliot caught her before she fell.

"Kathleen," he said, going to hold her. She buried her face in his chest, grabbing his shirt at the sleeves to keep her upright. A well of emotions flooded through him. He didn't know what to say. He kissed the top of her head and held her close to him, promising himself that he would never let go again.

"Does your mom know?" he asked, after a few seconds of silence.

Kathleen shook her head. "I came right here," she said. "I thought he'd try to follow me if I went home."

Elliot closed his eyes and exhaled. "I'm going to have to call her."

He felt Kathleen's head nod in his chest. "Okay." Her voice was shaky, broken. He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head, trying hard not to think of what this son of a bitch would have done to her. He knew he should get up and call Kathy to tell her that their daughter was here, that she was safe, but how could he leave her there, even just for a moment?

Kathleen lifted her chin to rest on his shoulder. "Can I stay here tonight?"

"Let me call your mother," he said. He rose from the couch. "I'll be right back."

He made his way to the kitchen and grabbed the phone, looking back at Kathleen's slumped body. He had known Kevin was bad news. Why didn't Kathy try to stop it? He sure tried, not that Kathleen listened. How could Kathy have not told him Kathleen was still seeing the bastard?

He stopped himself before he blamed the whole thing on Kathy. It had been his coping mechanism for a while, with their dying marriage. He knew she was wrong to leave without warning and take his kids from him, but he had grown to learn the hard truth: he had to face responsibility, as well. For this, too. Blaming his wife was not going to change anything.

He breathed in deeply and dialed the familiar number. Kathy picked up after a couple of rings. "Hello?"

"Hey, Kath…something's happened…"