A/N: Hey everyone. I know I know. I still have Prey and From the Ashes to write but this idea just wouldn't quit bugging me till I got it written.
There's been a new batch of Elliot returns fics coming out and it made me wonder. Despite my insistence that the whole leaving thing was OOC and everything WL did is illegitimate, what could make Elliot Stabler leave like that?
After some thinking I finally came up with something that can draw on not only what I know about the characters but also from the research I have done for my War on Terror novel. This is EO trust me, not a war thriller but please bear with me in this first chapter. It is vital to set the scene.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy my short little story (five chapters or so). EO as always. It is set right before and during the episode "Amaro's One-Eighty." After Lewis but before Noah.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
This story is for my good friends: TessiLovesSVU, Stabson, Srhittson, and Daquasia-Ann-Smith.
Enjoy and review.
Return to You
A story by the Congressman
Chapter 1: Rescue
Click. Groan.
There it was, the dreaded two noises. He knew what came after, the two possibilities that could result. Each was worse in its own unique way, and the prisoner couldn't even now choose which affected him more.
The cell – he doubted the hollowed out rock cavern with a doorway blasted in could even be called a cell – was larger than a solitary confinement room at Rikers or Sing Sing. It was the basic square footage, more or less, of the interrogation rooms at the 1-6. He had standing room, though not by much. His captors and the people usually imprisoned here were much shorter, his six foot-plus frame a head taller than most of them.
Other than that though good fortune ceased to exist. A threadbare shalwar kameez, battered sandals, and filthy wool blanket were the only articles of clothing he possessed on the cold nights. A wooden cup and spoon nestled next to the heap of hay that was his bedding. Humble circumstances indeed, but he would have lived every single day of his life in this to avoid what was coming his way.
A once imposing man, the shrunken husk took an involuntary step back as low firelight entered the dark cell. His lids closed shut, blocking out the tendrils until his eyes adjusted. Hanging a lantern on the hook right next to the door, his captor shut it with a small smile on his lips. He was alone, curved knife clipped to his belt. 'So it'll be mental then.'
It had happened long enough over the last two years – 'Has it been two years?' – to become routine. When entering with another, wooden rods in their hands, it would be physical. Alone, a knife for protection. Mental torture. He could handle most forms of mental torture. It was true, he trained for this.
But his captor was smart. He had discovered his prisoner's greatest weakness and delighted in using it.
"Greetings Stabler," he said in his educated English, accent clearly picked up in the British Iles. "Another wonderful day as my guest has passed. What has it been? Twenty-three, twenty-four months."
Elliot Stabler didn't respond. His captor's name was Muhammad, a common name for friend and foe alike in this part of the world. Most he had come to know were decent people, but this one? 'Sadistic bastard.' He wasn't going to give the fuck anything. Even in his hobbled, starved, scarred state he was still strong. He would tough it out. For her.
Something his captor easily picked up on. "Hoping to return I see." He chuckled, stroking his thick, black beard. "Still pining after Benson." Elliot felt a pang of unbearable pain hit him, though he tried valiantly to hide it. Never had the mere mention of Olivia ceased to hurt him. 'Olivia, my Liv.' What he would give to see her beautiful face once more, hear her beautiful smile again, gaze into her chocolate brown eyes. He loved her, that love keeping him going through even the worst ordeals. "So noble and yet so pathetic. After your little escape attempt over the summer I thought you would've lost hope."
"Why not wish for the moon while you're at it," Elliot rasped out. "Or for a goat you could fuck." He could just hear Munch's snorting laugh.
If this had been a physical torture session Muhammad would've had his goon – Elliot hadn't bothered learning their names, instead naming them things like Gomer, Squidface, Gitano, Harris, White – strike him in the soles of his feet with the rod. Saddam Hussein's eldest son used to do that. 'Oh he'd be in great company here.'
Now though, his captor merely smiled. "I will break you one day Stabler. And when that day happens, Inshallah, I will do what we discussed. Benson will finally get her closure."
It was then that a loud boom resonated through the doorway. The chatter of automatic weapons and panicked shouts filled the resulting silence. Muhammad swiveled around violently, making his way to the door.
What happened next was quick. With lightning reflexes he didn't know he had in him anymore, Elliot had pitched his entire mass into his captor. Muhammad slammed against the wall, the sickening crunch indicating his nose or skull had been broken. He pushed back hard, not forcing Elliot off but forcing him back, not before the weakened prisoner wrenched the knife from his belt.
Using whatever force he possessed Elliot plunged the blade between his captor's ribs. Blood spurted from the wound, knife impaling itself on the heart. Muhammad let out a surprised gasp, eyes bugging out as a moment's realization dawned over him before he slipped away.
Elliot let the lifeless body slump to the ground. 'Enjoy hell asshole.'
Legs giving out, Elliot collapsed onto the dusty cave floor, knife dropping from his hand. A loud thump smashed down the wooden door as two black-clad soldiers burst into the cell. Weak eyes took them in.
"Are you Stabler? Elliot Stabler?" one asked in a thick, Brooklyn accent. Elliot managed a nod. "Navy SEALs sir. We're here to get you out."
Being carried out of his prison for the last two years, Elliot only had one thought. 'Liv, I'm coming Liv.'
EO EO EO EO EO EO EO EO EO EO
Excited babbles sputtered from the giggling baby in Kathleen Stabler's arms. "Ooooh, you are so cute. Yes you are Joshie, yes you are." Her little nephew dissolved in a fit of giggles, waving his little arms around in joy.
"You are so good with him," smiled Maureen Jacobs, her sister. "I wonder how long after the wedding it'll take for you to have one of your own sis."
Sputtering herself which the four month old Joshie found hilarious, Kathleen handed Maureen the baby. They were in Kathleen's apartment, the older girl dropping by from Pennsylvania for a visit – she was a junior ADA there. "Not for a little while Maur. Once Mark get's a posting here in the States then yes, but not now when he could be deployed any minute." There was silence for a moment, both girls letting the implication hang.
"True," Maureen finally said.
At that point the phone sitting on the kitchen counter began to ring. "I'll get it," Kathleen announced, even though it was her house. "Kathleen Stabler," she answered. The words coming through the receiver almost made her drop the phone.
"Katie?" Maureen asked. Joshie picked up on her aunt's tension, stilling in his mother's arms.
Kathleen turned to look at her older sister. "Get a message to the twins." Tears were forming in her eyes. "It's dad. They found him. He's coming home."
EO EO EO EO EO EO EO EO EO EO
She was alone. It was a common occurrence these days, one she lamented but accepted. Why shouldn't she? Ever since her mother kicked her out of her apartment Olivia Benson had always been alone. 'What other way is there for me to live?' she thought.
The Detective – soon to be Sergeant – poured her third glass of wine, purple liquid sloshing into the wide rimmed flute. Olivia never wanted this; yes she grew to accept it as her general lifestyle but the brunette never wanted to remain alone her entire life. She wanted what all women did, a family, a child or children, a man who loved and cherished her. 'Is that too much to ask for?'
Apparently for the product of her mother's rape it was. Her want's and desires had warred with the person she was since the very beginning. Olivia was married to the job as her friends Alex Cabot or Casey Novak would've said. But Olivia Benson lived for her job, to be able and rescue and seek justice for victims like her or her mother. It didn't always work out for the best, and Lord knew how many of her cases ended in disaster, but she owed it to the innocents to try. Just… she wanted more and never quite seemed to get it.
Reaching for her phone, Olivia's face fell. No message from Brian. Brian Cassidy was the latest in her romantic life, a blast from the past with whom she decided to give it a go. Things were going well she thought; they were living together, he understood the job's demands being a former SVU detective himself, and he had been by her side during the Lewis Trial the month before… 'No, don't think about that sick freak Benson.' However…
'He just isn't him.' Olivia's fists clenched. No matter how hard she tried to let go, no matter how hard she hardened her heart and pushed to forget, Olivia Benson's mind always came back to that one man that haunted her dreams. "Elliot."
Olivia shot up from the couch, running a hand through her shoulder-length dark brown hair. Her heart was beating rapidly despite the alcohol in her bloodstream. 'Why am I like this?' Whenever her former partner, still her longest relationship with a man, entered Olivia's mind this happened. The tightness in her chest, the sweat beading on her forehead, the deep feeling of anguish from the pit of her stomach. 'How can he still get to me like this?'
Apartment quiet except for the heavy breathing of its denizen, Olivia paced back and forth, foot grinding into the soft carpet and leaving a deep indentation. "Why! Why did you do this to me Elliot!" she screamed into the empty apartment, voice reverberating off the bare walls. "Why did you leave me?" The last came out softer, less enraged. If one was present in the room it would've sounded ragged, pained, the low whimper of a defeated soldier.
Weakness, it had always been something that Olivia Benson avoided, hid from, fought against. Being a female detective in what was a difficult, strenuous job took its toll. Oftentimes suspects were hulking, two hundred plus bruisers, the time to reach for a gun or draw a taser not available to her. It wasn't just physical strength either, it was emotional. To look into a child's eyes, a child abused and mistreated so thoroughly as to possess no soul… Only the strongest, most indefatigable could handle that pain, that stress. Olivia was one of those people.
Until Elliot Stabler.
He had wormed his way into her heart, finally proven to her that she could be loved and cared for. And what had happened? He left, tossed her aside as if their twelve year partnership was nothing to him.
To be fair he had endured something terrible. Olivia remembered that day as if it were yesterday. The gunshots, lightning bolts snapping through the air. Jenna gunning down the perpetrators of her mother's murder, killing Sister Peg, her refusal to put down the gun… Elliot did the right thing. Every death was a tragedy but it was a good shoot. 'A good shoot damn it!' "So why did you leave El? Why did you leave me?"
Communication with him was spotty at best. There were a few messages, a note dropped off by Kathleen once when she came to collect Elliot's belongings – when she wasn't there of course – and one letter. A letter and contents that Olivia still kept. Her legs unthinkingly brought her to the cabinet, her personal drawer. Inside, buried beneath barely worn lingerie was a necklace. A gold necklace Elliot sent her. A finger brushed its gleaming surface, eyes reading the inscription stamped into the metal. Semper Fi – always faithful.
Snarling, Olivia threw it back into the drawer. "Always faithful?" she screamed at the ceiling, as if channeling a message to her former partner through God. "Always faithful Elliot! What a load of bullshit!" The necklace was the last she ever heard from him. Six months of barely any communication had turned into nothing. Zip; zero; zada. Not one little note. Oh the laughs he must've been having over the last two years. Enjoying married life with Kathy while she was in pain, crying over him, picturing him during Lewis' torture. Olivia knew the Elliot that cared for her would've come for her, searching for her when she had been kidnapped. 'Foolish Benson. He doesn't care about you, never did.'
"Is this what you wanted Stabler?" she screamed once more, sobs wracking her voice. "To see me like this, weak? Broken? Shattered?" Olivia hated herself, hated what she had become. In the last two years all she wanted to do was to hate Elliot, to hate him with the white hot intensity equal to the pain he caused her by leaving. But. But…
'I can't.' And this was the true cause of all of Olivia Benson's pain. 'I love him.' She loved him. She loved Elliot Stabler, likely since they first met. His looks, his personality, his soul, she loved it all. Even now, after he had spent their entire partnership tearing her down and spitting her out when he was done.
No one knew about the necklace. Not Casey, not Alex, not Cragen, not Fin, and definitely not Brian. Time after time she had wanted to toss it, to throw it down a sewer drain as Elliot had done her. But she couldn't, she couldn't. Olivia just couldn't stop loving him.
Olivia collapsed onto the floor, face buried in her hands as she sobbed. "Damn you Elliot Stabler! Damn you!"
EO EO EO EO EO EO EO EO EO EO
Haunted eyes stared at the apartment building. It was a step up from her last place, Elliot noted. There was a doorman, the sight warming him. Though he knew Olivia could easily take care of herself, learned from personal experience, but from what he went through and what he knew she went through… it was better to be safe than sorry.
"Dad?" Elliot shook off his haze and turned to his daughter. "Don't be so scared dad," Kathleen said with a small smile. "It's Olivia. She'll understand."
"What if she hates me?" The confidant detective was gone, replaced by a hollow, fearful shell of his former self. He could handle the horrors of the past two years but seeing Olivia, the woman he cared about more than his own life? "She probably does, and I don't blame her. What she must think…"
"How could she have known? Hell, we very nearly didn't." The blonde reached over and placed a hand on her father's knee. "Olivia cares about you as much as you do for her, I promise you. Look at what she's done for us over the years. For you, for mom and Eli, for me…" Kathleen trailed off, pointing to the apartment above. "Go dad. She deserves to know what happened either way. You'll never forgive yourself if you don't."
Elliot stared at his daughter. "You've really grown up Katie." He hugged her to him, tears falling from his eyes. So much he missed: Maureen's wedding and first child, the twins' acceptance to West Point, Eli's first day of school, Kathleen's engagement... "I'm so sorry, for everything."
"You have no need to apologize to me dad. Now go."
Nodding, Elliot kissed her forehead and exited the car. His heart was thumping in his chest. 'Olivia.'
EO EO EO EO EO EO EO EO EO EO
Reaching into the cabinet, Olivia pulled down two bottles. Merlot for the girls and scotch for the boys. She had set them on the dining table when her cell phone buzzed on the counter. Sighing, Olivia glided across the carpet of her apartment and snatched it up. "Benson."
"Hey Liv," the voice on the other end came out.
"Hi Brian," she replied. "Where are you? The guests will be here soon." 'Please don't say yet again…'
To her – not unexpected – dismay it turned out to be the case. "Sorry babe. I can't make it."
"What do you mean you can't make it Bri?" she said into the phone, raising her voice. I've been planning this dinner for two weeks now! Cragen is retiring and I want to give him a proper sendoff."
"I'd make it if I could babe but you know how it is with the job."
Olivia sighed. "Yeah, I know. I guess I'll see you when I see you."
"Bye Liv."
"Bye." She hit the end button and tossed the phone on her coffee table. Every time she made plans Brian would end up bailing out at the last minute. Of course she understood the job, but if he really cared he would've found a way to make it work. 'As Elliot would've…" Olivia began to think before willing the thought away.
'No, not again.' The brunette detective wanted to have a nice night with her friends, not weep over a man who – face facts – must not have really cared that much about her or their time together. She was clean, dressed in the same purple dress from Munch's party, and ready to have some much needed fun.
A knock on the door drew her attention. Olivia's brows furrowed. 'Too early for anyone to arrive.' Yes, Fin and Amanda were usually early to pretty much anything, but two hours? She wasn't expecting anyone else so it had to be. Heels clicking on the wood surface in the entranceway, Olivia unlatched the deadbolt and opened the door to greet her friends.
The smile immediately changed, her jaw dropping at who was standing in front of her. "El?"
He stood transfixed. 'God. She's so beautiful. It's really her.' Elliot offered her a worn smile. "Hey Li…" He was cut off by a fist slamming into his nose.
A/N: How many of you were expecting that? I certainly was, lol. Elliot should've seen that coming.
Anyway, what did you guys think? All the questions about Elliot's disappearance will be answered in the next chapter for the most part.
Told you he wouldn't have left without a reason. Just hope Olivia can set aside her anger to see it :)
Be sure to check out my other fics, and drop a review for this one and I'll send you a sneak peek.
God Bless
Alex