Unexpected Findings

A story by e-oshippa47

A/N: This whole story happened because my dad and I were talking about how cool it would be to be a writer on Law & Order—the one who writes the plot of the story in novel form. So I was talking to him, telling him what I would do, and how I would write an episode. As I was speaking, I was talking about Olivia's mother, and how Olivia was conceived. I am going to write this in many persons; 3rd person in the beginning, may possibly become 1st person later on. Basically, this whole story is mainly this question: What actually happened to Serena, and why did she do the things she did to poor, innocent, Olivia? I'm going to post the first chapter, to see if you guys like it. R&R and enjoy, like you good people always do.

1—Box Cutters

"Are you sure you want to do this, Liv? It tends to get emotional." Elliot spoke, reaching in the back of her closet and pushing the boxes to the edge of the top shelf with the tips of his fingertips.

"Yep, I'm sure. I've got to do this sooner or later; it's two years to the day she died. Might as well. Toss me the box cutter?" She stood over a pile of boxes with her hands on her hips, and stared blankly at the cardboard masses that had masking tape wrapped around them, as if to make sure nothing or no one got into them without really trying.

Elliot fished his hand in his jean pocket and grabbed the three-inch object. Closing the blade down all the way, he tossed it underhand, and gracefully, Olivia caught it. He watched her silently as she skillfully and naturally pushed the lock down and the slider up, and shoved the blade into the top of the box. "'Serena's Crap.' Wow. That's original." Olivia remarked, a slight smirk on her face at the sound of the title and her mother's name. She blew the dust off of the top of the box, and began attacking the box with the cutters.

Elliot remained silent, for he knew better than to say something. Walking over to her side, he peeked over her shoulder; he hadn't seen a box like this yet. He gazed from a standing point of view, his head unintentionally angled as he watched the veins in her muscles flash as she ripped open the wings of the box.

"Whoa," they both said to themselves quietly as the contents of the box filled their sight. Crouching down opposite of her, he saw Olivia's eyes flicker as she registered each and every item that the box filled. "El, look at this." She pulled out certain items, remarking, "High school year book, photo album, CD's…" she let her voice trail off and surround the empty air in tension as she slowly pulled out a small, 3x3 leather bound book. "…journal." She twisted her hand to see the cover of the little journal. Scrunching her eyebrows together, she showed Elliot the front of it. "Blank." She spoke out of surprise, and a small portion of confusion.

"That's weird," was all Elliot could think of saying. Walking over and sitting down next to Olivia, Elliot thought silently to himself. He was debating on whether or not he should ask her the question that may just possibly change her life for the better. Or a turn for the worst. Be careful, you don't know what's in there. He thought to himself. But before he could control himself, the words slipped out of his mouth and into her ears as he asked cautiously, "Are you going to open it?"

Olivia began to chew on her bottom lip; this was her 'tell' on her having mixed feelings when deciding something that was a really big deal. "I… I don't know." Olivia finally said, slowly. She said it in a way where it wasn't a polite rejection, but more of an open thought, letting the possibilities flow to her brain and the possibilities that she may miss out on. She looked at Elliot for a moment, and then back down to the journal—it was very tempting. C'mon, what have you got to lose? You're mother was horrible to you; this is your decadent way of getting revenge by reading something she wouldn't want you to. One side of her brain nudged.

But it could also mean that she didn't want me to read it for a reason, and that it was wrapped up this way because what is in it is something no one else should see. What if the night I was conceived is in this? The other side of her brain argued.

Well then you'll just have to wait and see. Now or never Olivia. And that was the end of her inward conversations. Even when she tried to find her so-called angle and devil, they were gone, away and back in the corners of her mind until needed for bigger reasons. "I do want to, though." Olivia admitted, muttering it.

Elliot played with his thumbs as he looked at Olivia. She was trying so desperately to advert her dark, hazel eyes away from the black object that was in her hands, but she couldn't control the fact that they kept darting downward to the front of it. After a long pause and burning desires and questions running through their minds, Olivia finally sighed. "Let's just get these boxes emptied first." She looked up to Elliot, praying silently that he wouldn't reject.

Elliot was dying to know what was written inside Olivia's mother's journal. He mainly wanted to know why she hurt Olivia the way she did; the excuse was that her mother was traumatized by the rape and Olivia was the constant reminder that it had happened to her. But deep down, Elliot thought the whole thing was bullshit. Rape or not, no one should be treated the way Olivia was. But yet, he shrugged and smiled at Olivia as he replied, "It's up to you, Liv." He was genuinely happy to be with Olivia, even if it was bitter-sweet time spent.

Olivia smiled, and threw the journal onto her forest green couch. "Let's get this over with." She said, a certain lightness portrayed in her tone.

They spent the next hour laughing and removing boxes from Olivia's closet, each telling stories of their youth (and in Olivia's case, the little, happier moments) and how stupid they were at times. In the end, they had successfully dug up clothes from the '70's and '80's, classic books from Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, Emily Dickens, and so on, and letters that her mom had written, but never got around to sending.

Olivia and Elliot sat five feet away opposite from each other, both of them trying to regain their breath by laughing so hard. When they could both breathe normally, they stayed silent for a moment, and Elliot watched as Olivia's eyes went immediately to the journal resting silently and almost mockingly on the sofa. She then looked back to Elliot, who was watching her and waiting for her silent—or verbal—answer on what she would do next. Instead, she asked, "Are there any boxes left?"

Elliot's eyes drew up to the empty closet. "None." He then scooched over next to Olivia, who was sitting cross-legged with the journal locked in her hands. Elliot let his eyes fall onto the journal, and then back to Olivia's. "You still want to do this? Like I said before, it tends to get emotional." He felt his stomach churn; he himself was afraid of the contents that lay in her mother's journal.

Olivia nodded, briskly. "Just promise to be with me when I read this thing, okay?"

Elliot smiled, and said, "Promise."

They both looked back down at the journal, and Olivia slowly and delicately began to open it. It's spine cracked from the many years of someone not using it. Before they let themselves read the first page of the book, Elliot and Olivia locked eyes, both telling each other that this may change their views and lives forever. They then let their eyes fall downward onto the old paper as Olivia read her mother's life aloud.