Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters in this work of fiction, and no profit monetary, or otherwise, is being made through the writing, and online posting, of this.

A/N: Written for my h/c_bingo square - runaways. hanks go to and Animegirl1129 and for reading and encouraging me as I worked on this. Reposted as a separate fic.


Elliot blinked back his tears, and swiped at his nose with the back of his hand. It was bloody, and he winced and grimaced.

"Big boys don't cry," he whispered fiercely, even as his breath hitched, and he struggled to bring his tears under control.

This time he was really going to do it, he was going to run away, and no one was going to stop him.


Elliot frowned as he watched the kid in the interrogation room. The boy couldn't be more than seven, maybe eight years old. His hair was unkempt and lice-ridden, his face was streaked with dirt and grime, and his clothes were worn and ragged.

The boy, Kevin, fidgeted uncomfortably in the chair. His eyes, a washed out blue, darted from one corner to the next, as if he expected something, or someone, to jump out at him.

His hands – stained a brackish red – shook uncontrollably.

Elliot sighed, and pushed open the door, preparing to question the boy about why he'd killed the homeless man whose body he was found standing over.


Elliot huddled in a dark corner of the alley that he'd decided to sleep in for the night. It was cold and wet and smelled like pee and moldy cheese. It made his stomach turn, but it was better than the alternative – returning home to his drunken father's fists.

His nose still ached, and his split lip throbbed in time with the beating of his heart. Whenever he swallowed, he tasted blood. He was cold, and tired, and so hungry that his stomach hurt, like it did whenever his daddy hit him.


"Kevin," Elliot said, and he did his best to ignore the way the boy flinched and hunched in on himself when he entered the room, "my name is Detective Stabler. . . Elliot."

He offered the boy a smile, but Kevin wasn't looking at him. The boy's eyes were fixed on the table, and he clenched his hands in his lap and started rocking side-to-side.

Elliot shot a look toward where he knew Olivia and George were standing, watching him and Kevin through the two-way mirror. The psychiatrist had already tried to speak with Kevin, but he hadn't gotten very far before the boy had shut down and started humming to himself and rocking, like he was doing now. Elliot didn't understand why George thought he'd be any better with the boy, but, he was willing to give it a try, figuring that Olivia would be next if he couldn't get through the boy's defenses.

"Kevin," Elliot kept his voice even and light, "can you tell me what happened?"

The little boy stopped rocking, and cocked his head to the side. The action reminded Elliot of a bird, and he was momentarily taken aback, but he pressed on.

"How did you get blood on your clothes?" he asked.


Elliot was too afraid to sleep. There were moving shadows, and scary, loud noises that startled him awake whenever his eyes drooped. There were soft, slithery noises too, noises that reminded him of the snakes that Mrs. Redding taught them about in science hour.

Something warm and fuzzy brushed past his past his leg and Elliot held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut tight. Hugging his knees to himself, he bit down on his tongue, and tried to make himself as small and quiet as he possibly could.


Elliot wasn't expecting the small shrug, but it was a welcome gesture after spending hours of watching the boy rock, or sit unnaturally still. When Kevin turned, and settled his gaze on Elliot, the detective's heart skipped a beat, and he held his breath. He didn't want to spook Kevin, not when there'd been an apparent breakthrough, but he wasn't exactly sure what to do now that he had the little boy's undivided attention.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Elliot asked.

Kevin looked at him warily, and then he looked down at his hands. His brows furrowed in confusion, and he locked eyes with Elliot.


"Hey, kid."

Elliot raised his head, and he looked up and up and up. There was a giant standing in front of him. His heart hammered in his chest, and Elliot tried to scramble backward, but his back was to the wall.

"Who said you could sleep here?"

The giant's voice was loud and booming, and something silver flashed in his hand.

Elliot tried to answer, but his words got stuck in this throat, and his eyes widened in horror as the giant began to crouch in front of him.


"I got hurt." Kevin's voice was so quiet that Elliot had to lean forward and strain to hear the words.

The little boy thrust his hands into Elliot's face, and Elliot fought the urge to reel back at the sudden movement. He smiled, hoping to ease some of the boy's fear, and his own tension, and inspected the boy's hands.

They were caked with dried, flaking blood. The police report had said that, when they'd found the boy, he'd been wielding a bloodied knife. The knife had been bagged for evidence, and it had seemed like a pretty cut and dry case, aside from the young age of the alleged assailant.

Elliot took one of the boy's hands in his, carefully telegraphing his movements so as not to startle the boy, and studied it. He couldn't see any puncture wounds on the palm or back of the boy's hand. He studied Kevin's other hand, and likewise couldn't find any obvious wounds.

Undaunted, Kevin pointed to his wrist. "See," he said, and Elliot narrowed his eyes and looked at the spot where Kevin was pointing.

The blood masked what appeared to be a finger-shaped bruise on the boy's wrist, and Elliot examined the other wrist, finding similar bruising on it as well.

"How did this happen?" Elliot asked.


"This is my corner," the giant said, and he flicked the silver think in front of Elliot's face.

Elliot swallowed, and he suddenly had to pee.

"Sorry," Elliot stuttered, and he tried to make his way around the giant who had a strange, scary smile on his face.


"The bad man did it," Kevin said quietly, and he looked away from Elliot.

"The man that you stabbed?" Elliot asked, and winced at how harsh his words must have sounded to the little boy. He could imagine George scowling and Olivia shaking her head on the other side of the mirror.

Kevin turned wide eyes on Elliot and started to shake his head.

"No, no, no!"

He pounded a fist on the table, and his bottom lip began to tremble. A single tear made a track down his dirtied cheek.

"I didn't." Kevin shouted. "I didn't!"

"Hey, Kevin." Elliot held his hands out in a placating manner. "I'm sorry. Can you tell me what happened?"

Kevin eyed Elliot warily and wiped at another tear with the back of his hand, streaking his face with dried blood. He drew his feet up onto the chair and wrapped his arms around his legs. He regarded Elliot for another long moment before nodding.


"You run away from home little boy?" the giant asked. He squatted in front of Elliot, blocking his escape route.

Elliot's breath caught in his throat. He had never wanted to go home more in his life. He nodded and looked away from the giant.

The giant reached out and touched Elliot's knee, and he flinched.

"Please don't hurt me." Terrified, Elliot trembled.

"The street's no place for you." The giant hauled Elliot to his feet and shoved the silver blade in his face. "Little boys like you," the giant growled, and spittle flecked Elliot's face, "they get hurt."

The giant flicked the silver blade and it bit into Elliot's chin. Elliot didn't even feel the cut at first. He was so scared that he wet his pants, and he was trembling so much that if the giant hadn't fisted a handful of his shirt, he'd have fallen on his butt.

"Savvy?" The giant wielded the knife in Elliot's face, and Elliot watched the blade move from side-to-side. There was a touch of red on the knife's edge, and Elliot brought his hand up to his chin. It stung, and his fingers came back slick and red. Even though he didn't understand the word, 'savvy,' he nodded.

"Go home, kid." The giant let go of Elliot's shirt and stood.

Elliot swayed on his feet, and would have toppled to the ground, had it not been for the giant catching him and setting him upright. He gave Elliot a swat, and Elliot stumbled out of the alley.

"One day, you'll be stronger than your old man," the giant called out after him.

Elliot ran home, readying himself to face his father's wrath.


"What happened, Kevin?" Elliot asked.

He rested his hands on the table in front of him. He didn't want to spook the clearly frightened little boy any more than he already was. He glanced toward where he knew Olivia and George were, and then focused his attention on Kevin.

"I tried to stop the blood," Kevin's said. His voice was soft and he was staring at his knees. "But it wouldn't stop coming."

He raised his eyes to Elliot's. They were filled with tears, but they didn't spill over.

"Even when I took the knife out, it wouldn't stop." Kevin hunched over his knees and bit his bottom lip.

"Did you stab the man?" Elliot asked.

Kevin shook his head, and hugged himself tighter. "The bad man did," he whispered.

"The same bad man who hurt you?" Elliot's stomach tightens when Kevin nods and swipes his runny nose on his knees.

"He was gonna hurt me, and, and," Kevin hiccoughed, "the other man, Mr. Jenkins, he tried to stop him."

"What was the other man's name? Do you remember it?"

Kevin shook his head and wiped at his eyes. "Didn't know his name."

"That's okay," Elliot said.

"He was gonna hurt me," Kevin repeated.

"Did he hurt you before?"

Kevin nodded.

Elliot didn't want to ask, but he knew that he had to. "How did he hurt you?"

Kevin bit his bottom lip and whispered, "He touched me where I'm not s'posed to be touched."

"And Mr. Jenkins tried to stop him?" Elliot asked.

Kevin nodded and drew in a shaky breath. "Yeah, but then he got stabbed, an' I couldn't stop the blood, an' he, he died, an' it's all my fault. I shouldn't have run away."

"Hey, Kevin." Elliot laid his hand on the boy's head, and waited until he looked up at him. "It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But if I hadn't run away, I wouldn't of been hungry an'…"

"Why did you run away?" Elliot had his suspicions, but he needed to confirm them, for himself, for George and Olivia.

He remembered the few times he'd run away from home, never getting very far. If it hadn't been for the 'giant' as he still remembered the man who'd cut him to teach him a lesson, he might have ended up like Kevin.

Kevin shrugged, and looked off to the side. "Sometimes my Dad hits me."

Elliot nodded, brushed aside his own memories of his father, and tried not to think of the lice crawling through Kevin's hair as he kept his hand in place on the boy's head.

"Your dad hit you too?" Kevin asked, tilting his head to the side. He gave Elliot a knowing look, and, in spite of himself, Elliot nodded.

"Yes, he did."

"I'm sorry," Kevin said. He placed his arms around Elliot and hugged him tightly. "Sometimes it really hurts."

Elliot clutched the little boy to himself, and nodded. "Yes, it does."


"Where the hell have you been?" his father's shout caused Elliot to cringe and he held his hands up in front of his face, ready to ward off the blow that he knew was coming.

"I…I…" Elliot stumbled over the words, unable to get them out.

"Elliot, baby?" his mother's voice was a welcome sound, though he wasn't certain if she'd be happy or sad or mixed up when she saw him.

He felt hands on his shoulders and he slowly put his arms down by his side and looked up. His father's face was an angry, mottled red, but his eyes weren't bloodshot and there was something like love in them. His father shook him, making his teeth rattle, but then the man pulled him into a crushing hug and swatted his butt. It wasn't hard, and Elliot wondered why his father didn't belt him.

"Where have you been?" his mother wrapped him in a hug from behind.

It was a rare thing, having both of his parents hug him, and Elliot wondered if the giant knew this is what would happen when he went home.

"We were worried sick about you, baby," his mother said, speaking the words into his hair. "Don't ever run away like that again."

"I won't mama," Elliot said, and he relished the love that his parents lavished on him, knowing, in the way that young children have a way of knowing, that it won't last.

His chin stung, but he barely noticed that when his father tended to it after the hug. Antiseptic, a Band-Aid, and a kiss from his mother, and he was declared, 'Okay.'


"Kevin," Elliot pulled away from the boy just a little, so that he could see his eyes, the blue was a little clearer, "your dad won't be able to hurt you, ever again."

Kevin looked away. Elliot understood what his promise sounded like to Kevin, who has no doubt heard that same promise from his father's or his mother's lips time and time again, only to have it broken with the next drinking binge, or whatever it is that sets the boy's father off.

"'m I going to jail?" Kevin asked with a shaky breath. He met Elliot's eyes again, and the fear in them was palpable.

Elliot pulled Kevin back into the hug and shook his head. "No, Kevin, you're not going to jail. You didn't do anything wrong."

Kevin craned his neck to get a look at Elliot's face, his brow scrunched up in confusion. His breath hitched. "But if I hadn't of run away then the bad man wouldn't of hurt me and Mr. Jenkins wouldn't of died."

"Still not your fault," Elliot said. "Mr. Jenkins died saving your life. He's a hero."

Kevin's lips twisted upward in a crooked smile, and he nodded, even as he wiped away another stray tear.

A knock at the door startled the both of them, and Kevin hid his face in Elliot's shoulder as George and Olivia walked into the room. Elliot placed a protective hand on Kevin's back when another man entered the room with them.

"The social worker's here," Olivia said. Her voice was quiet and there was a sad smile on her face.

Elliot relaxed a little. He hadn't ever met this social worker before, and had feared that it was Kevin's father, coming to take him home.

George knelt down next to Elliot's side, and placed a hand on Kevin's shoulder. The little boy stiffened, and turned his head away from the other man.

"Kevin, we're going to need to borrow Detective Stabler for a little, is that okay?" asked George, unperturbed by the slight.

Kevin's arms tightened around Elliot and he shook his head.

George nodded, and shared a look with Elliot. It wasn't going to be easy to get Kevin to leave with the social worker, and Elliot could see by the calculating look in George's eyes, that the forensic psychiatrist was worried about him, too. He rolled his eyes at the man and tightened his grip on the little boy.

"Kevin, would you like Detective Stabler to stay with you?" George asked, and Elliot fought the urge to smack the man on the back of the head.

Kevin nodded, and said, in an almost inaudible voice, "Yes," adding, "please," as an afterthought.

"Alright," George said, and then he stretched to his full height and patted Elliot on the shoulder. "We'll just wait a little while longer for him."

The psychiatrist backed up and left the room, but not before shooting Elliot another look which the detective found annoying. Elliot didn't want to have a heart-to-heart with George, or anyone, for that matter. When this was over, and he'd passed Kevin over to the social worker, Elliot was going to go home, kiss his wife and children, and do his best to forget what his father had done to him a week after he'd run away from home.

He knew that, if he had anything to say about it, Kevin would not be subjected to what he had for so many years. Elliot would do whatever it took, up to, and including, bringing Kevin into his home, and raising him as his own.

In the end, Elliot didn't have to do that. Kevin eventually trusted Mr. Scott – a brand new social worker, still green around the gills – enough to go with the other man, after garnering a promise from Elliot that he would come visit him.

Elliot knew that Kevin's life wouldn't be perfect – there was still a lot that the kid would have to deal with after living on the streets for just under a month, being touched by a monster who might never be brought to justice, and witnessing the death of the man who tried to save him – but it would be better than what he'd run away from.

The giant's words sometimes come back to Elliot when he least expects them to, and he remembers the day that he threw his father's abuse off, like an old, musty cloak – the face of the giant looming behind his father's back, cheering him on.


Months later, Elliot almost doesn't recognize Kevin. The little boy's blue eyes no longer looked washed out, but were a vibrant shade of blue, like a cloudless sky kissed by the sun. The little boy ran to him, grabbed Elliot's hand up in a hand no longer stained by blood, and then launched himself up into his arms.

The boy's hair, no longer riddled with lice, was a healthy dark brown, and the man and woman, who stood back, watching their interaction, had filed adoption papers. Kevin's father and mother had given him up to the state– neither having filed a missing child report when he'd initially gone missing.

Kevin smiled and whispered, "Thank you," to Elliot, "I like my new dad and mom. They don't hurt me."

Elliot smiled, and hugged the little boy. His heart swelled, and he hoped that Kevin would never have to run away from home again. From the looks of things, he wouldn't have to, but Elliot knew that looks could be deceiving, and he'd be keeping an eye on Kevin for as long as he needed to.


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