READ ME: So in my continuing mission to be as confusing as possible, I decided to take the "EO chapters" from After All and separate them out into their own fic (as I will do with the bensidy chapter(s) at some point). So if this first chapter looks familiar- it is! If you've already read it, please proceed to chapter 2 for new content. If you haven't read it, then welcome!
Summary: This takes place in a post-S16 AU where Elliot and Olivia are living together, raising Noah, and expecting a baby (aka Little Bean). If you're interested in finding out how Little Bean came into existence, then you may want to check out one of my other stories, As The Sun Does Set. If you want to read more adventures of pregnant Olivia, then I will point you in the direction of After All. And now I will stop with the self-promotion.
A/N: this chapter is pretty mild save for a relatively tame sex scene. Quotes from vindicated by dashboard confessional and a sorta fairytale by tori amos. And yes, I've reused some of the quotes from the bensidy chapter, either as some sort of artistic device or because I'm lazy.
As always, I love feedback and I thank you for it in advance...unless you're just going to complain about a lack of brian, in which case I'll know you're bad at following directions and/or reading comprehension. Also- this chapter ends on a questionable note, but I will make everything better in the next chapter, I promise.
{I am selfish, I am wrong
I am right, I swear I'm right
swear I knew it all along}
"She's here."
"Shit," you curse under your breath as Noah chooses this exact second to dump an entire bucket of blocks onto the floor. "Noah! Mommy just put those away, you're not supposed to..."
"You took all his toys away, what'd you expect him to do? Sit quietly with his hands folded in his lap?" Elliot asks.
"Actually, yes. That would be perfect."
He picks Noah up so you can collect the blocks, quickly tossing most of them into the bucket and kicking the remaining few under the couch as the doorbell rings. "C'mon buddy, you wanna see who's at the door?"
The identity of your visitors isn't actually a surprise to anyone but Noah. It's Friday night, meaning Kathy is here to drop Eli off for the weekend and you've been cleaning frantically in anticipation of her arrival. Elliot thinks it's unnecessary at best and ridiculous at worst to spend hours making sure the living room is immaculate since Kathy never really lingers, just brings Eli up to the front door of your apartment and then leaves as soon as she can, but today you're hoping she'll stay a little while longer.
Elliot opens the door to his ex-wife and son both wearing the same sullen expression on their faces. He reaches out and ruffles Eli's blond curls, pretending he doesn't notice how unenthused the little boy looks. "Hey there!"
"Hey." Eli glances over at you and then Noah as if confirming that you were, unfortunately, still here before answering his dad. "Mom said you'd take me to get ice cream."
"Oh yeah? How about you and Noah and I walk down to the place on the corner before it gets dark?"
He considers this. "And she's not coming?"
"No, Olivia's gonna stay here. It'll be just us guys." Elliot looks over his head toward Kathy. "Alright if I bring him home at five on Sunday?"
"Don't be late. He's got homework to finish once he gets back," she says, not bothering with pleasantries or even acknowledging you exist.
"Right." Elliot sets Noah down so you can get his jacket zipped up while he unfolds the stroller. "You ready to head out, Eli?" He glances over at you as Noah eagerly takes his seat, knowing this means he's about to go somewhere fun. "Liv?"
"Uh, right. Kathy...do you have a second? I wanted to talk to you before you leave."
Kathy looks startled, glaring at Elliot when she realizes the two of you orchestrated this 'just us guys' outing so that you could have a moment alone with her. If it's any consolation, Elliot himself doesn't even know your motive behind this conversation, but you can't exactly tell her that right now. "Oh. I...yeah, I suppose so."
"Go give your mom a hug goodbye," Elliot urges Eli. Noah watches the older boy embracing Kathy and holds his arms out, whining to be unbuckled from his seat so that he can join in on the hugging. Kathy smiles warmly and indulges him, patting his back, and you wonder if you should think it's cute that Noah's oblivious to the tensions in your fractured family or if you should worry that wanting hugs from a woman he barely knows is a sign of attachment issues.
You make a mental note to ask your therapist about it and then wave goodbye to Elliot and the boys, nervously turning your attention to Kathy. "So. Kathy. I know Elliot's told all of you about the baby."
"Oh, that he has," she says with a sardonic smile, arms crossed over her chest. "I don't know why I was surprised. Should've seen that one coming, right? Good to know my husband still hasn't figured out what a condom does."
There are two things bothering you about that statement- for one, he's no longer legally her husband. Secondly, since when did she become such an advocate of 'unnatural' birth control? (Since you started sleeping with her ex-husband, probably). But nevertheless, you hold your tongue because you know this can't be easy for her...and because you need her as an ally. "Yeah. Anyway. That wasn't actually what I wanted to talk to you about...not specifically. I've been doing some thinking about this whole first communion thing."
It had been the subject of so many discussions as of late; Eli's upcoming first communion and all the fanfare that went along with it. Beyond the actual service, there was a 'family banquet' for the whole second grade class the night before, followed by a huge bash for Eli at the Stablers' house (well, Kathy's house) the next evening. And Elliot wanted you there for all of it.
Suffice it to say, this is where he and you disagreed. Your relationship with God was a complicated one, second only to your relationship with the extended Stabler clan- and the combination of the two along with dozens of judgmental near-strangers? Way too much for your already confused, overemotional pregnant self to handle. But Elliot doesn't seem to get it; the irony of taking your pregnant former mistress to church on the day of the 'feast of the immaculate conception', so you've been forced to resort to extreme tactics.
"Uh-huh. And you were thinking- what, exactly?" Kathy asks, raising an eyebrow.
"That you and I need to be on the same page as far as...look, I know this is a big deal for your family. And Elliot's adamant that I should be involved. But. Eli's been through enough, and I don't want my being there to take away from...it's his day. And it's your day too, it's your son, and I know you're going to have your friends and family there. So I don't know how comfortable you are with, ah. With me being around. Especially since I can't promise this," you say, resting a hand on your small but growing baby bump, "won't be obvious by then."
"By December? Oh, it will be," she assures you, and as eagerly as you're anticipating the day that it is, you can tell she's not sharing your excitement.
"And that's what I'm saying. I don't want to be a distraction."
"How kind of you."
You resist the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she realizes you're on her side here. "I just don't want you to have to worry about-"
"About what, introducing everyone to the woman my husband ran off with? Because I think all of them already know."
"But do they know about the baby?"
"What do you think, Olivia, that I sent out a mass email to everybody because I couldn't wait to share your good news?"
"Okay, Kathy, look." You tolerate her snide attitude towards you, for the most part, because you can't blame her. If you were in her place, you'd be bitter too. You know you deserve her venom, at least to a degree, and you know she's still reeling from the news about your baby but this is getting ridiculous. "This is me trying to help you. Now, do you want me there or not?"
Her eyes get wide and she tilts her head slightly like she never expected you would give her a choice. "Oh. Well. I..."
"It's alright," you assure her when you notice her hesitation. Even though she has no problem slinging barbs your way when it comes to your relationship with Elliot, she's fundamentally a kind, well-mannered woman and she's not going to straight out uninvite you. "I just want you to tell me what you think is best for Eli. I know I'm not always his favorite person, and-"
She sighs, reaching for your shoulder and then pulling her hand back before she can make contact. "Olivia...I hope you don't take it too personally. It's not you he's angry at, it's the situation."
Which you caused, you mentally tack on to the end of that sentence. "No...I'm pretty sure it's me. Especially now with the baby..."
"He'll adjust. He's getting along better with Noah, isn't he?"
"Yeah, he's...warming up to him. I told El they should do something fun together on Sundays after church, just him and Eli, and I think that helps."
"I didn't know that was your idea," she says. "But thank you for...I know you must not get much time to be all together as a family, so that's generous of you."
"Of course...it means a lot to both of them." Kathy has been surprisingly good about letting Elliot see Eli even more than they agreed on in the divorce settlement, but you know that not being able to see his son every day is still the hardest part of the split for him. You give Kathy a tight lipped smile, which she returns, and you can tell you're both getting uncomfortable with this sudden burst of mutual politeness. "So, ah. Back to what I was originally saying...I'm wondering if we can work together to convince El that I shouldn't be there. Maybe if we come at him from both sides..."
She laughs. "Since when do...you think my husband actually listens to anything I say?"
"Yeeah. Look, I know it's probably just a reflex, but if you could not keep calling him your husband, I'd appreciate it." You don't think it's an unreasonable request but you still hesitate to ask, afraid of revealing too much of your own insecurity. Elliot did do a pretty good job of curbing the instinct to tell you that "Kathy always did such-and-such" or "Kathy and I did it this way with our kids" after you told him how much it bothered you to have to hear about the Stabler Method for every. goddamn. thing. You know he doesn't mean anything hurtful by the unsolicited advice, but sometimes you find yourself having to remind him that you're not Kathy, you're Olivia, and life with Olivia isn't going to be just like it was for him over the last thirty years.
Of course- you're not always ready and willing to change your ways either. So it's still a work in progress. But in the meanwhile, she can stop saying 'my husband'.
"Oh. I didn't realize I was- it's just that..." She pauses, shakes her head. "In any case, I don't know why you think he'd listen to me."
"Well, I'm not having much luck. You know how he gets when he has his mind set on something. That's why I'm hoping that if we come at him from both sides- he has no choice but to hear us out."
A corner of her mouth turns up in silent understanding, but you can see a momentary flash of surprise on her face and you're puzzled. Surely she didn't think everything was nonstop rainbows and smiles over here? If anything, you'd be willing to bet you've had more fights with him over the years than she has. "I'll do my best."
"All I want is for you and Eli and your whole family to have a really good day. After everything that's happened in this last year...Eli deserves it."
"Aren't you suddenly so considerate."
"Kathy-"
She holds up her hand to cut you off. "I should get going if I want to make it to church on time for my class." A picture on a nearby shelf catches her eye, one of you and Elliot enjoying a summer day at the park with an infant Noah, and she brushes her fingers over the corner of the frame. "How've you been feeling?"
"Hmm?" you ask, caught off guard.
"I mean, you're what, thirteen weeks now? That first trimester was always the worst for me."
"Oh. Yeah, I'm..." You fumble for words to describe your current state without mentioning how you have the raging hormones of an average 16 year old boy. "I feel like I've been fortunate. There's bad days, but honestly I thought I'd be sicker than I am."
"I'd bet anything you're having a girl. I was miserable with my boys, not so much with my girls."
You can't help your tiny smile at hearing that. "Everyone but me thinks it's a boy."
"Nope. Not with how the weight's all gone to your face and your chest," she says matter of factly. You're a little uncomfortable with her analysis, afraid that next she'll take a guess at the color of your cervix or something (a question that you honestly don't know the answer to).
"Ah, well. I guess in a few weeks we'll find out who's right, won't we?" you stammer.
"Trust me- by now I know these things." You're relieved when she starts to make her way out the door, but then she stops again and shakes her head at another picture on your wall- a painting of a cat given to you as a housewarming gift by one Nick Amaro. "Aww, look at that. Eli's just so creative these days. I love it."
{I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself}
The apartment was silent. Silent and dark, save for the light streaming from a single small lamp in the corner of the room as you sat down with your treasure. You crossed your legs in front of you, opened the container, and the first spoonful was millimeters away from your lips when-
"Is that...are you eating frosting out of the can?"
Busted!
You turn around to see Elliot standing behind you, snickering at your choice of bedtime snack. "Yes. Actually, I am. I've wanted it all evening and so now I'm gonna have it."
"Is that all you wanted? Chocolate frosting?" he teases, sitting down next to you and pulling you towards him until you're straddling his lap. "Cause if it is, I can go."
"No way. You're not going anywhere. I've been waiting impatiently," you say, running your index finger along his lower lip until he sucks it into his mouth, tongue licking at the little bit of chocolate smeared on the tip. When you moved into the new apartment together a couple of months ago, you and he and Kathy had a highly uncomfortable conversation in which you came to the agreement that you and Elliot would sleep in separate rooms when Eli was there. You think that the cat's really out of the bag about the nature of your relationship at this point, now that Eli knows about the baby, but he still gets excited about sleeping in the big bed with his dad and so you're not going to deprive him of that.
"Mmm, I'm sorry," he says, kissing a line underneath your jaw and down your neck. "Took Eli a while to fall asleep."
"And you're surprised? He's probably going to have nightmares after all those videos you let him watch." You were pleased when Eli and Noah found something they both enjoyed- watching baseball clips on YouTube. But then Eli took it upon himself to show Noah something that Dickie had showed him; this compilation of cars colliding and cars bursting into flames and cars overturning and rolling down cliffs and basically meeting any horrible fate a car could suffer. They weren't gory, but something about your son cheering and applauding as a truck crashed head-on into a rock wall didn't sit well with you.
Elliot, for his part, thought it was great harmless fun. "What do you think he's gonna do, go out and steal a semi so he can drive it off a bridge?" he asked, hooting loudly as a VW bug on screen did just that.
You shook your head and walked away, texting Nick to ask if he'd let his own kids watch something like that. When he immediately replied with "HELL YES- link pls?" you decided it must be a male thing and thought, not for the first time, that it might be nice to have a daughter to break up this testosterone-fest.
"He's fine. Relax," Elliot assures you again, his hands rubbing your sides underneath your t-shirt.
"That's what my frosting was for."
"Well maybe I-" He stops moving when he has one palm covering the middle of your stomach, looking curiously down at where your shirt has ridden up above his hand.
"What. What're you doing?"
"You really do have a bump now, don't you?"
"Um...I guess?"
He chuckles. "Honestly. It's bigger than it was yesterday."
"How do you know that? You can't tell how much it's grown in a day."
"I can. I promise," and you roll your eyes but he's still got you looking downward, trying to see if you could notice any change from the last time you'd studied your profile in the mirror that morning. You know it's silly and Elliot's quick to give you a hard time if he catches you, but it's still part of your daily routine. It makes you smile every time, no matter how sleepy and nauseous you might otherwise feel, because for the first time in years you can look at yourself and see something other than your scars. You see proof that it's real, this healthy little person thriving and growing inside of you, and as much as he teases you about it, you can tell just from the look on his face that Elliot's as excited as you are.
And now when you lie down on the couch cushions and he's hovering over you, kissing your stomach reverently, it's hard to believe that you ever doubted how much he wanted this. You were skeptical even when he was the first one to bring up the idea of another baby, unsure what his motivations for wanting a seventh(!) child really were. Your fear was that he was only doing this for you, to give you the family you always wished for, and not because he had any particular desire to be a father again. After all, he already had one late in life baby *and* he had suddenly become the parent of a toddler all over again. But then you think about how over the moon he is every time Noah reaches a new milestone, like he's never seen a kid accomplish such feats before, and you think about how he kissed you when you told him the news and how he falls asleep every night with his hand on your belly, and suddenly you don't have a doubt in your mind.
"You're sure Eli's asleep?" you ask as he pushes your shirt higher until it's bunched up to your underarms.
"Promise."
It's an unsung benefit of police training, the ability to stay unconsciously attuned to even the smallest of sounds while you're otherwise occupied- so you're trusting that your instincts will kick in if either of the kids start stirring. And they better not fail you, because you're sure as fuck not paying attention to anything else when he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, lapping at it with the very tip of his tongue.
"Motherfucker," you groan as he repeats the motion on the other side, suckling with an added intensity. They're still sore as hell, like you've just spent all day wearing a bulletproof vest (and those things were not designed for even the most flat chested of women), but he knows by now how to tell when it's too much and more importantly, he knows you like the pain, like right now when he pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger to get your attention as he makes a shushing noise.
It's a little bit of a thrill sneaking around like this, if you don't consider how mortifying it'd be to get caught. There was a time when you wondered if a big part of the attraction between the two of you was the illicit nature of the whole thing, the allure of doing something forbidden, and if there would be any sort of spark left once the secrecy was gone.
As it turns out, you were wrong. You can't believe how wrong you were and, as he slides one hand down inside your underwear and starts to slowly circle your clit with one finger, you don't even remember why you started thinking like that in the first place other than that you're-
"So fucking perfect," he says in a low rumble, and you can feel the vibration of his words against your skin when he finally touches you-
"Right there, oh god fuckfuckfuck..."
He swallows the rest of your words with a kiss to keep you quiet, and it seems like hours pass by before you finally break away for air. "You good?" he asks, kissing your forehead despite the beads of sweat forming at your hairline.
"Uhh-huh," you hum emphatically, like he doesn't already know that he just made you come three times in a row without even hardly trying. Pregnancy has made you an incredibly cheap date.
You shift around to take some of the pressure off of your back and he shakes his head when he sees the pillow you've been lying on top of. "I wish you'd get rid of that thing."
"You'd change your mind when I'd be up all night bitching." His reason for despising it, of course, is that it was a present from a certain ex-boyfriend who shall not be named. The relationship might've been irreparably broken but you had hung onto that pillow, for practical reasons more than sentimental ones. You still occasionally reached for it when you went through phases where your nightmares came back in force, but in the last couple of months it'd become a lifesaver when you used it to relieve the lower back pain that kept you up at night. "For something the size of a peapod, your baby does a hell of a job pressing right up against my spine."
"Our baby."
"Nope. It's yours when it keeps me awake."
"That your way of saying I should just go ahead and plan on being the one who gets up for all the night feedings?"
"Well, since you offered..." You lie back down and reach for the back of his neck to pull him down with you, feet planted firmly on the cushions and legs spread out on either side of his so you can feel his erection nudging insistently at the inside of your thigh. "Something you need?"
"Shit, that's...but you don't have to, honest, I know you're tired. Just wanted to make you feel good," he says, kissing behind your ear.
"And you did, but I'm not that tired. So I can either sit here and eat my frosting while you go back to bed, or..." You wiggle out from underneath him, heading toward the guest bathroom just off the living room, and you laugh when you see his slightly puzzled look. "Trust me, what I wanna do to you...I'm going to need a little more privacy than this."
{in too deep now to ever swim against the current}
Sometimes you start to seriously wonder what the hell you're going to do when you have two kids.
Today was one of those days.
It started with you waking up to both a tremendous headache and a severe bout of nausea, the likes of which you hadn't experienced since you stopped binge drinking. It was so bad, in fact, that you wondered why you even still had a headache when you were pretty sure you had literally puked your brains out. How delightful.
Despite this minor annoyance, you really did feel a bit better by the time you finished throwing up. But by then the boys were awake- and things started going downhill again.
Your original plans for the day involved a trip to the zoo, because it was something both kids would enjoy and you'd found that Eli was more pleasant if he wasn't cooped up inside all day. But the weather outside was just this side of Hurricane Sandy-esque...time for a new plan. One that involved an almost-two year old and an almost-eight year old entertaining themselves safely and sanely within the walls of your 900 square foot apartment.
This was not a good plan.
"I miss Dory," Eli complains, throwing himself backwards onto the couch and sulking. Dory was the cat Elliot had bought for Eli when he moved out- with the strict instructions that she was to remain only at the house in Queens. "Why can't she ever come here with me?"
"You know the rules. Noah can't have pets in the house with his asthma," Elliot reminded him. It was partially true, and it made for a good excuse, but you secretly suspected Elliot was actually a little afraid of cats and didn't want one wandering around the place.
"This SUCKS. I'm bored."
"Go read your library book. Your mom said you have to finish it while you're here so you can write your book report when you get home."
"HE doesn't have to," Eli says, glaring at Noah.
"But he has to take a nap in a half hour," you point out. Elliot tells Eli that he can have a reprieve from reading if he plays with Noah until naptime, to which Eli sighs loudly and stomps off toward Noah's room.
"Don't look at me like that," Elliot says to you. "I wasn't the one who shut down the party when everyone was getting along. Twice."
"They had enough screentime for one day; they already spent hours on the iPad last night. And did you really want them doing gymnastics in the living room? I've already been to the ER enough this year and-"
"Welcome to having sons." Elliot chuckles and you glare at him like Eli had just been doing. You don't think you're some rigid, overly strict mother, but Elliot has a way of making you feel like you are. Is it honestly so out of line to think that the kids didn't need to be jumping and doing somersaults on a mattress pad they dragged out of Noah's room? Apparently it is, according to Elliot, who only put a stop to it when Noah wanted to try jumping off the back of the couch.
"Fine, I'm going downstairs to get the mail. Please make sure no one needs stitches before I get back..."
As you slip your shoes on, you see Noah running down the hall with his baby doll in hand. Eli is unimpressed. "That's such a gay toy, Noah."
"Eli!" Elliot barks.
"What? It is!"
"You don't use that kind of language, understand? He can play with whatever he wants."
You close the door behind you before you can hear his reply, hoping against hope that you'll return a few minutes later to two little boys getting along happily, playing a game that's safe (and quiet).
No such luck. As soon as you step inside you're greeted by the sound of Noah letting out a shriek, followed by a long wail.
You go running into Noah's room to find him crying and holding a scratched up knee while Eli shouts "He started it!"
"Eli, what did you do?" you ask, picking Noah up to comfort him.
Eli ignores you and turns toward Elliot, who's standing in the doorway. "I didn't do it! He was throwing kleenex around so I tried to take the box away and he bit me!"
"So you pushed him down?" You now notice the dozens of tissues scattered around the floor, along with a pretty good-sized teeth mark on Eli's hand.
"I didn't mean to! He was biting me and I was trying to get away and he fell!"
Noah obviously can't plead his side of the case, but you know he's bitten kids at daycare before and so you're inclined to believe Eli's telling the truth. "But still, if you knew he was doing something he wasn't supposed to, why didn't you go get your dad instead?"
"Go wait in my room, Eli, and I'll be in to help you get that bandaged up in a second," Elliot says.
"Why'm I the one in trouble?"
"Don't worry, Noah's in trouble too," you promise him. "He knows he's not supposed to be biting. But you're older, so you should know better than to start fights."
"She's right, Eli. Now go."
Eli does as his dad says, but not before turning around and announcing that "I liked it better before my dad moved in here with YOU."
"Eli-" Elliot starts to say, but you cut him off.
"Just don't, El, I get it." Eli had only come to stay with you in the new place half a dozen times or so, and you knew he was still adjusting. You and Noah had spent time with them during Elliot's weekends before that, of course, but you always had your own apartment to go back to so Eli didn't have to 'share' his dad so much. "Help me get Noah ready for his nap?"
You get him changed, decide that his knee doesn't need a bandaid- although he'll have a nice bruise forming soon- and get him into his crib while sternly reminding him that biting is bad. "He's not gonna remember what he did, Liv."
"Oh, he does. He knows it's wrong. Even if he doesn't- what am I supposed to do, just let him get away with it? And why weren't you watching them?"
"I was right there in the kitchen. I could hear them just fine."
"Oh? So you must have heard them fighting, right? Why didn't you go stop them?"
"I did when I heard Noah start to cry," he argues. "I'm not gonna break up every little argument or else they'll never learn to solve anything themselves."
"So you'll just let them start wailing on each other. That'll teach them."
"Liv, for God's sake, you know I wouldn't. It escalated before I could stop them- but they'll live. They're brothers, they'll do a lot worse to each other over the years. You can't watch 'em every second."
You know he's probably right, and you know he'd never purposely sit back and let World War III break out, but you're also fucking tired of his 'I'm so laid back because I know so much about parenting' shtick. "Fine, whatever. Just go talk to Eli."
You close the door to Noah's room and start peeling off your sweatshirt because you're suddenly feeling sweat dripping down the back of your neck- pregnancy has a way of messing with your inner thermostat. You're not even really thinking about what you're doing or who might be watching until you hear Eli's startled voice.
"What the hell happened to your arms?"
"Language!" you and Elliot both remind him in unison before either of you realize what he actually said. You look over at Eli, whose expression is visibly concerned, and then back down at your arms. Oh. Oh.
"I'm okay, Eli, I just-" You glance at Elliot, momentarily flustered. It honestly hadn't occurred to you that Eli had never seen you in a sleeveless shirt before and you didn't want to scare him. "I mean-"
"That's none of your business! Who told you that you could ask questions like that?"
You see Eli's face sink even more when his dad admonishes him, and you reach for Elliot's elbow to tell him it's okay, that you can tell the little boy really is worried and not just being a brat. But the entire day is hitting you at once, you're in pain and frustrated and overwhelmed and sleep deprived and you just can't find the words. "I...I'm sorry, Eli, I've gotta..."
"Now see what you did?" you hear Elliot ask as you hurry toward the bathroom, intermixed with Eli's little voice pleading 'I didn't mean to, Daddy, really...it's not my fault!'
{I knew then it would be a lifelong thing
but I didn't know that we could break a silver lining}
TBC- happy ending to come, I promise :)