Disclaimer: I'm sure you know the drill by now
Summary: This is why Elliot chose to fight for the victims. Starts the first time Elliot thought of joining SVU. Set a while after the Gulf War, early 90's.
Credits: Plot is based on the song Luka by Susanne Vega. It is a song about an abused child. I'm just saying to give credit where credit is due. If you can read fan fiction I'm sure that you can google the lyrics, because I don't like writing song fics. Also I need to credit Google's amazing maps for giving me the marvelous ability to walk around Manhattan from the comfort of my dorm room.
A little background, for those of you, who like me, cannot remember the early 90's: This should be about 9-7 years before Elliot joined Special Victims. He would be in his early 20's by my estimation, with a pregnant wife and two daughters, one a preschool aged child, and toddler at home. Elliot was in the Gulf War, which lasted from August 2, 1990 to March 3rd, 1991. So I'm assuming that right after that he got out of the Marines and went to college part time and started work as a police officer.
1. (If you hear) Something Late at Night
"They only hit until you cry and after that you don't ask why. You just don't argue anymore" Susanne Vega
Here I am with Pete, taking our break in a late night diner on the outskirts of Alphabet City. It's a tough part of town, so we (the police I mean) spend a lot of time there, trying to keep the peace, catch criminals, and most of all we try stay alive so we can go home to our families.
Not so different from Desert Storm. Boredom punctuated by danger and terror. But that's a cliché.
"Hey, Officer Stabler, time to stop pondering the meaning of life. Get your head in the game. We got a call."
Guess Pete had been talking for a bit, and I had to wonder how I had missed the annoying crackling static on our radios. "This is dispatch calling squad car 732 Charlie. Are you there?"
"We read you dispatch. Over." Pete was already answering the radio as he laid bills on the table and stood up with me to walk back to the squad car.
"We have a complaint of domestic violence near your location. 390 East 10th Street on the North West corner of Avenue C and 10thStreet; Apartment 2A. Complaint came from tenant of 1A. Over."
Hearing this on the radio as we get into the car gets my adrenaline pumping and jolts me out of my reverie. Here's something going down, a problem that we can solve. I reach to my radio and after confirming the address and apartment number as Pete starts the car I say to dispatch, "We read you and we are on our way."