A/N: Happy Fourth of July, and a hello to all of you who have decided to read my first SVU fic. I hope you all enjoy and don't hesitate in letting me know what you think. I accept all opinions, but just remember if I do something that you find irritating or inaccurate, how am I to know unless you tell me? If you do let me know, I promise I will cease the offending behavior at once :)
This isn't my first (my first two are crossovers between SVU and Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight Trilogy; you guys should check it out). I just felt like writing a standalone SVU fic and I've been having this idea for a while.
This will be EO, and if you don't like it don't read. It's the only main ship for these two characters that I will ever pay attention to; I dislike Elliot/Kathy and Olivia/Haden, am absolutely baffled by AO and FO, and completely despise Bensidy more than you could ever imagine (damn you Dick Wolf). Also, while I like angst and drama as much as anybody, I prefer the two to get together before all the major action of the story so they can take it on together, so that will be what happens here.
While all the characters follow the show with a few minor corrections for the NBC screenwriter's bias and stupidity, the story begins in the year 2000 with slightly different backstories for the main characters that will become apparent. If Dick Wolf had the right to screw them up, I have the right to fix them up.
Disclaimer: While Dick Wolf, Neal Baer, and Warren Leight do own SVU, all of them are much too dense to do what we all know should have been done.
PS: The political aspects in the chapter are only to set the timeframe of the story; if I offend anyone I'm sorry, not my intention :)
Saw the movie America today. I really recommend it.
Prey
Prologue: Instant Connection
"Just one more push honey."
"I can't. It hurts."
"Come on Mrs. Stabler. Hold and PUSH!"
"AAAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!" She pushed hard and the piercing cry of new life resonated through the room. "Congratulations mommy and daddy, it's a girl!"
Cutting the cord, the proud father kissed his third daughter on the head and turned back to his wife. "Ok, one more and we're done."
"I'm scared El, it hurts too much."
"Come on sweetie, I'm right here. Soon it'll be over and we'll hold our two beautiful babies in our arms."
She smiled weakly at him. "I like the sound of that."
He kissed her forehead. "That's my girl." Suddenly she bucked and cried out once again.
"Ok, I can see the head. Push Kathy push!"
"I'm right here Kath, push."
She screamed and the room was filled with yet another wail. "Congratulations mommy and daddy. This one's a handsome baby boy." Elliot cut the cord and smiled down at his son.
A few minutes later, the nurse handed him his twins, the muscular cop easily hefting both in his arms. "Here we go little ones, here's your mommy." Gently he lowered them to rest in the crook of Kathy's arms, his wife wrapping them around their babies.
They're beautiful El," she whispered, her face pale.
"Yep," said the proud father of four. "Elizabeth Rebecca Stabler and Richard Donald Stabler," he beamed.
"Lizzie and Dickie," Kathy breathed, weak from her ordeal.
"I love you Kathy," Elliot said, bending down and kissing her chastely on the lips.
"I love you too Elliot," whispered back his wife before she closed her eyes.
The room was immediately filled with the hooting alarms of the monitors, causing the babies to wail. A panicked look on his face, Elliot saw the door fly open as doctors and nurses flew into the room, all hovering over his wife. "There's no pulse."
"We need to defib now!"
"What's going on?" He was shocked his voice worked at all.
"I'm sorry Mr. Stabler, you have to leave," said a nurse, handing him the two crying infants and nudging him out the door.
The window let him see everything. The doctor fired up the paddles and shocked her heart, doing it four more times when the first time failed. All Elliot could see was the monitor, a long flat line.
He woke covered in sweat, the same routine as he did every morning. It was always the same nightmare, the same gut-wrenching image that played over and over in his head while he was asleep. No matter how hard his conscious mind tried to block the images during the day, at night his subconscious continued to torture him, every night for the last six months.
Groaning, Detective Elliot Stabler, NYPD swung his legs out of the bed, wiping the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes. Reaching to switch off the alarm clock, his hand grasped the picture frame on the nightstand, another morning routine for him. There they all were, the last time his family was whole. It was a picture of him, Maureen, Kathleen, and a smiling, pregnant Kathy at his birthday party seven months before she had given her life to give birth to their twins. The doctors called it a hemorrhage of the cervix, basically her bleeding to death. In all the KIAs and brutal rape homicides he had witnessed in his years in the Marine Corps and the NYPD, Elliot hadn't seen anything more heart wrenching or hellish than the sight of his wife bled out on her hospital bed. He took comfort in the fact she was watching down over him in Heaven, but it did little to dull the pain.
A wailing over the baby monitor snapped him out of his daze. Sighing, he stood and wandered out of his bedroom to the nursery, clad in nothing but a pair of sweat pants over his boxers. Arriving in the room where his twins slept, he picked up a cranky Lizzie. "Shhh Lizzie it's ok, daddy's here." He sniffed at her bottom and grimaced. "What the hell has Aunt Emily been feeding you? Extract of burrito?"
"Ha ha, very funny big bro," said his sister Emily, walking in in her flannel robe over her PJs. Five years younger than her brother, she was in the process of getting her law degree at Columbia and was helping the new single father handle his brood. "You need to get to work El or Uncle Don's going to be pissed at you again."
"Oh come on Em, everyone knows I'm Don's favorite," he smirked cockily.
"Oh shut up. You take care of the chemical weapon Lizzie produced and get dressed. I'll handle Dickie and getting the girls ready for school." He hadn't made any move to change the twins' nicknames after what happened to Kathy. She had wanted to call them that and he was not going to trifle with that.
Twenty minutes later, a newly shaved, showered, and dressed Elliot Stabler bounded downstairs. "Hi daddy!" squealed a little bundle of blonde curls, looking cute as a button.
"Hey there Katie!" he replied, picking her up and tickling her nose. "How's my little princess?"
"Good," she smiled. It amazed him that she was already in second grade.
"Hey dad," called Maureen from the counter, immersed in the morning news. Elliot smiled proudly; his eldest daughter had quite a brain on her, like her mother. If Kathy hadn't gotten pregnant at sixteen in 1988, she would have certainly gone to medical school and become a doctor. Elliot wanted the same for Maureen.
"Hey Maur," he told his eleven year old, kissing the top of her head. He walked over to the toaster and popped two slices of white bread inside. "What's on?"
"The election, what else?" Elliot chuckled.
"On the campaign trail, the Bush-Cheney ticket continues to reiterate their pledge to bring honor and dignity back to the White House…"
"Bout time," Elliot mumbled.
"Daddy, who's Bush-Cheney?" asked Kathleen, curious about everything.
"It's George W. Bush and Dick Cheney Katie," corrected Maureen before Elliot could. "They're running for President and Vice President." She shared her father's preferences.
Katie pointed at the framed picture of the President shaking Elliot's hand hanging over the fireplace. "Is that Bush?"
Elliot laughed, "No princess, that's George H. W. Bush, his father."
"Oh," she repeated innocently, going back to eating her cereal.
"Dad," asked Maureen, "When will you tell me the story of how you won your medal?"
"When you're older Maur," he replied honestly. She was too young, too damn young to have to deal with death: her mother's, his buddies in that godforsaken Arabian town, the countless girls raped, murdered, and dumped like trash (he thanked God he hadn't seen what happened with her grandparents). While the dream of his wife's death always haunted him at night, the others always joined in. The screams from the battlefield where he earned the Medal of Honor sitting on his mantle never left his mind, nor did the images of the dead victims. If it hadn't been for the four angels that were dependent on him, he would have eaten his gun long ago.
After saying goodbye to his twins and dropping Katie and Maureen off at school, Elliot took the Queensboro Bridge to the precinct.
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"Where were you?" She froze at that voice. She knew what that voice meant.
Making a beeline for her room (it was always better if she could lock herself till this phase passed), she was stopped by a firm arm on her shoulder. "I said, WHERE WERE YOU?"
She gulped, knowing her mother wouldn't believe her no matter what. The empty bottle of scotch lying by the couch proved that. "I… I was at Courtney's house studying. You can ask her mother…"
Her sentence was cut off by a vicious slap on the cheek. "Don't lie to me slut! You know what happens when you lie." Olivia nodded, tears in her eyes. It was the same every night, and she knew it was all her fault. Taking a swig from the bottle of vodka in her hand, Serena slapped her again for good measure.
At that time, Olivia felt a rage course through her. Why did her mother have to hit her? It wasn't her fault that she was born; Serena was her mother and was supposed to love and cherish her. It just wasn't fair! With a snarl, Olivia stepped forward and knocked the bottle to the ground, it shattering and spilling its contents into the carpet.
Serena looked at her in shock, completely flabbergasted that her little dog had bitten her. Olivia was too, the enormity of what she had done sinking in. Se clasped a hand over her mouth, trying to apologize but the words wouldn't come out.
"You bitch!" yelled her mother, punching her in the face. Olivia fell back, her nose broken. "After all I have done for you, feeding you, clothing you, not deciding to abort you when you are nothing but an abomination that should never have existed, this is how you repay me?" She kicked Olivia in the ribs again and again, breaking and cracking a few. She whimpered in pain. "You don't deserve to live you little slut. You deserve to die like every other abomination! I should have aborted you when I had the chance." She spit in her daughter's face, the saliva mixing with the tears. Olivia felt blackness envelop her.
The incessant buzzing of the cell phone woke her from her restless sleep. It happened again, the same dream that haunted her since that day fourteen years before. Her mother had put her in the hospital, cracking three ribs and fracturing her skull. She had been only thirteen at the time.
Groaning, Olivia reached over and answered the infernal device. "Benson."
"Good morning Detective Benson," came the cheerful voice through the receiver.
Olivia smiled tiredly, "Hi daddy." It was just her adoptive father's style to call her this early to wish her a good first day as a detective. Not able to have children on their own, he and her mom had taken her in as a foster kid and adopted her a year later. "Wishing me a good first day."
"Of course Olive," he said. "Remember, if anyone bothers you, just call me and I'll take care of it."
"Daddy!" she laughed, "I'm twenty-seven years old. I can fight my own battles."
"I know, but if anyone treats you like shit, they have to answer to me." He wasn't bluffing; with his position in the NYPD he could make any cop's life a living hell.
"Goodbye daddy, I'll come see you and mom tonight ok?"
"Ok, love you Olive."
"Love you too." She hung up the phone and put her hand on her forehead in frustration. Whoever said time healed all wounds was an idiot. She fingered the crucifix neckless her mom got for her fifteenth birthday, praying for the pain to go away, for something to happen to make her soul less broken.
Sighing, Olivia Benson stood and went to get dressed for her first day as a detective.
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To Captain Donald Cragen of the 1-6 Special Victims Unit, midmorning hours like this were the calm before the storm. They had just cleared all their open cases the day before, and the unit could enjoy some quiet time to relax and finish the DD5s before the new cases came in. Cragen rubbed his bald scalp and cringed at the memory of the crime wave in the eighties and early nineties when things were never like this and murder rates were above 2,000 a year. Seven years of Giuliani had fixed that and crime rates were low again, but as long as those who were evil remained out there, the work of a cop was never done.
"Don, you old son of a bitch!"
Cragen looked up and grinned at the sight of his old friend. "Well nice of you to show up after all this time you smug bastard! How are you doing Ed," he stood, enveloping the man in a bear hug.
Grinning back, Sgt. Ed Tucker sat in one of the wooden chairs that faced Cragen's desk. "Well you know how it is Don. Undercover work's a bitch. Haven't seen enough of my wife or daughter in the last decade, let alone you." He and Don had been childhood friends and had gone into the Army together. They signed up for the academy way back in the year the Gipper was elected, and the two had been thick as thieves until Don got married and they lost touch, not that it was either of their fault. Cragen's brother in law wasn't too fond of Tucker and the feeling was mutual.
"So Ed, IAB? You've finally crossed over to the Dark Side of the Force."
Tucker laughed. "Hey, someone's got to do it. Wouldn't you rather have your hot-headed nephew be investigated by me or by someone else you don't trust?"
"You have a point there Ed, not that I have to like it. The less I have to deal with the Rat Squad the better." They shared a knowing look, each a veteran of NYPD politics. "What brings you here today?"
"You know about my daughter right?"
"Yes, Olivia right? You adopted her while she was your foster child."
"Fourteen years ago and I love her like she's my own flesh and blood. She just made detective last week, and while I'm proud of her, I didn't think this was the best unit given her childhood."
Cragen nodded, knowing enough about the situation to understand Tucker's predicament. "So what do you want me to do about this? After all, she is my new rookie."
"Look don, I just don't want Olivia to get hurt anymore after what she's been through. Just don't partner her up with an ass or an insensitive dolt. She needs someone who can understand her pain and watch her back."
Pursing his lips, Cragen contemplated that. "Ok Ed, I'll see what I can do. Now you better get a move on before she shows up."
"Don't I know it? Nice to see you again Don, and I'm sorry about Marge."
"Thanks Ed." Cragen shut the door behind his old friend and let out a deep breath, looking beyond the blinds to his beloved nephew. Elliot seemed to be normal but Cragen could see the pain in his eyes, the fatigue and frustration in his tone and body. Life for his late wife's brother's son had never been easy. It wasn't just Kathy passing away, the years on the job, the battle in the little Arabian town where he earned his medal, nor the shootout at the precinct that forced him into his and Marge's care. It was deeper than that and he knew it. If what Ed's daughter had gone through was as bad as he said then they had a lot in common.
He sat down, knowing what to do.
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Elliot sat at his desk staring at nothing in particular. Even though his job was practically looking at dead or shattered victims that often reminded him of someone in his life, he preferred that to the boring days. At least he had something to do then rather than be alone with his thoughts, which no sane person would want to do.
"Hello? Earth to Elliot."
"Huh?"
"You zoned out there for a second," said John Munch, his best friend and fellow detective. Sure he was a pain in the ass but there was no better man to break you out of a funk and make you laugh, usually at himself.
"Yep Munch. CIA brainwave scanner got me. Now I'm getting a strange urge to kill you to prevent all the top secret information you tell from getting out." He made a move to strangle him, only to break away chuckling.
Munch's partner laughed as well, clapping him on the back. "He got you there good Munchie," said Odafin "Fin" Tutuola.
"Hey, how else do you explain the growing use of cell phones? The truth is out there people."
"Let me guess," said Monique Jeffries, another detective in the squad. "Is it about Kennedy or CIA mind control?"
"Show me mind control!" shouted Elliot in his best Family Feud impression. All the detectives laughed at Munch's ability to believe anything.
"Ok guys, when the black helicopter come to take all of us to the UN reeducation camps, don't say ol' Man Munch didn't warn you."
"It's not that I don't think you could be wrong Munch," remarked Elliot, earing surprised looks from everyone including his best friend. "No guys I'm serious, the government is filled with all these sex scandals and corruption scandals involving crazy shit. Who's to say CIA mind control isn't far off."
Fin, Munch, and Jeffries rolled their eyes because they knew what was about to come. "Again with that Stabler?" asked Brian Cassidy, Jeffries partner and not Elliot's favorite person. "Get off your soapbox. No one cares."
"For Christ's sake Cassidy," hissed Elliot. "We need to know our government is trustworthy. I'd hate it if the persons running our country are a bunch of dirty perverts."
"So?" smirked Cassidy. God that guy was an ass; when dealing with the victims he had the cocky, demeaning to women attitude that Elliot hated in a person. A real man treated the women in his life with respect, not as sex objects or beings of scorn. The only reason he was still in SVU after dozens of victim complaints and write-ups was the fact he had a thing going with Lt. Quinn at IAB, giving him a get out of jail free card for the foreseeable future. Damn corruption.
Sensing the mood go south, Munch interjected. "So Elliot, how are the kids?"
'Thank you Munch!' "They're fine. The twins are healthy, Katie's starting second grade, and Maureen is much too smart for her own good."
"That's a good thing Elliot. Make sure to tell them Uncle Munch says hi."
"Will do."
"Heads up," Cassidy whispered. "Hot woman coming through." All heads turned to the brunette that just entered the floor of the 1-6. "Think I have a shot?" he asked Jeffries. Elliot wanted to throw up.
"I think you have a 100:1 likelihood she just slaps you in the face."
"My kind of odds, though you still are the best looking woman in the squad Monique."
She gave him a flirty smile. "Keep that up Bri and you might get me in bed by 2087."
"It's a date." Elliot mimed trying to upchuck bulimic style which got Munch and Fin to giggle.
Inside the Captain's office, Cragen heard a knock at the door. "Come in."
As shy looking woman entered, her badge and gun clipped to her hip. "Captain Cragen?"
"Yes."
"Hi, I'm Olivia Benson, your new detective."
Cragen rose to shake her hand. "Nice to meet you Olivia. We're so glad to have you aboard."
"Happy to be here," she smiled back, though her face was filled with the same pain his nephew's was. 'Ed was right," he thought.
"So, you're Ed Tucker's girl right?"
"Yes I am," she replied. "Dad told me you two were good friends."
"We were, and still are I might add." Now that Joe Stabler was dead and Tucker in IAB rather than undercover narcotics the time was ripe to resume their former friendship. "So Olivia, if I may call you that?" She nodded and he continued, "So Olivia, I'm partnering you up with Detective Stabler."
"The hothead?"
Cragen chuckled, "I see his reputation precedes him. Don't worry he's harmless to everyone except the perps. Watch his back for me alright."
"You got it Cap," she replied eagerly. With that, Olivia rose and entered the bullpen.
"Hello there Miss," said a skinny man with thick glasses and the face of a perennial but harmless troublemaker. "May I help you?"
"Yes, I'm Olivia Benson, the new Detective." She said, the box with her personal effects shifting in her grasp.
"Hello there Benson," said the man, rising. "I'm John Munch, and this is my partner Odafin Tutuola."
"Just call me Fin," said the other, smiling.
"Nice to meet you both."
"Monique Jeffries," said the only other woman in the squad, eying her over as if sizing her up.
"Brian Cassidy at your service," said a spiky-haired man, eying her over in a completely different way. "If there's anything you need, just tell me."
Olivia got a bad vibe off the man. "I'm fine thank you."
The last man, tall, muscular, and with a military air and a self-assured grin stood. "Detective Benson, I'm Detective Stabler."
"Ah, you're Stabler. I'm your new partner." Cassidy mumbled something on the lines of 'He's got all the luck,' while Munch and Fin both grinned at him, wiggling their eyebrows. Elliot dismissed them as the idiots they were.
"Anyways, this is your desk," he gestured to the one adjacent to his. "Make yourself at home."
"Why thank you Stabler," she retorted, smiling. Setting down the box, she took out a picture of her and her parents at her graduation from Siena College five years before.
"That your parents?" asked Elliot, wanting to know more about his new partner. His old partner and he had been overly formal to each other and he wasn't about to repeat that.
"Yes they are," she responded honestly. Even if they weren't blood they were her parents in all ways that mattered.
"Isn't that Ed Tucker the new IAB Sergeant?" asked Jeffries.
Cassidy paled slightly but recovered quickly. "Wow Benson, friends in high places I see?"
"I knew Ed Tucker back when I was in Narcotics," said Fin. "He's a good man, very honest."
"Ok," replied Elliot, unconvinced. He steered clear of the Rat Squad, who to him were only concerned with messing with good cops while leaving assholes like Cassidy with free reign to be – well – assholes.
The squad dispersed as they went on about their daily business. Looking at her new partner's desk, she spotted the two photos on it. There was one of him and a young woman in a wedding dress and a seemingly recent one of him, two young girls, and two infants on what appeared to be the Fourth of July. "Is that your wife?" she asked innocently.
She swore she saw a flash of pain enter his eyes. "Yes."
"And those are your kids?" at his nod she smiled. "You are a really beautiful family," she told him honestly, putting Elliot at ease. "So the wife is out of the picture."
His entire body stiffened. "Yes," he croaked, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Ah, D-I-V-O-R-C-E," she joked, needling him a bit.
"No, W-I-D-O-W-E-R," he responded, obviously in pain.
Olivia was floored. 'No wonder he's in pain,' she thought. "I'm so sorry Stabler. I didn't…"
"It's alright," he stopped her with a raised hand. "Just let it alone."
Before she could answer Cragen came out of his office. "Benson, Stabler! You have a case. Young girl raped and beaten but conscious. Get to Mercy General and take a statement."
Elliot groaned, for he hated these cases. "Come on Benson. Time for baptism under fire." She nodded and followed him out of the bullpen.
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The interview felt like an icepick was jabbed through her heart. The sight of that poor seven-year old girl raped and beaten to within an inch of her life made her want to vomit her meager breakfast. It was one thing to see an adult rape-victim, much less a child. She wondered how any of the veterans of the unit could stand it.
"It doesn't get easier," cautioned Munch, already providing more help than the others. Cassidy was an ass like she felt from the beginning, so no help there. Jeffries was with her partner canvassing the neighborhood while fin talked to the ME. Elliot was nowhere to be found.
"What should I do then?" she asked Munch.
"Channel that pain into catching the bastard or bitch that hurt the poor kid, and then take a long, hot shower. It does help, trust me." Olivia chuckled.
"Benson," called Cragen from his office.
Entering, Olivia had no idea what happened. "Yes Cap?"
"Do you know where Elliot is?"
"Stabler, I have no idea. We finished the interview. He asked the dad for a DNA sample and got punched."
"Happens more often than you think," smirked Cragen, his jaw twinging at memories of past hits.
"I guessed as much. Anyway, we entered the precinct and he just disappeared. I haven't seen him in half an hour."
"How old was the victim?"
"Seven, why?"
"Blonde hair?" She nodded. Cragen sighed, "I was afraid of that. He's on the roof. Normally I would go talk to him but I think it would be best if you went."
"Ok Cap."
"Oh Olivia," he said as she was leaving. "Be gentle with him; he's had a hard life."
She gave him a wan smile. "I know the feeling."
Entering the roof, Olivia was temporarily blinded by the sun. Holding her hand to her face, she spotted her partner as her pupils adjusted to the bright August light. "Look Uncle Don, I'm fine. Just give me a minute and I'll be down."
"I'm not Uncle Don," Olivia said quietly, just trying to get his attention.
Elliot turned around, his face filled with embarrassment. After his little mini-breakdown regarding the pictures, he hadn't wanted his new partner to see him weak. "What are you doing here Benson?"
"First of all, you can call me Olivia, it's no problem. Secondly, I wanted to see how you were doing. You seemed pretty rattled after the interview Elliot, what's up?"
"Why do you care?"
"Because I'm your partner," she said a bit annoyed. Olivia knew he was in pain but it didn't give him an excuse to be rude.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I guess I deserved that." He slunk to the gravel floor of the roof, leaning on the brick ledge.
"Yeah you did," she replied, sitting next to him. "So what's up?"
"That girl, she reminded me of Kathleen, my daughter. She's that age."
"Oh Elliot. I'm so sorry." She didn't know why but she felt for this man, more so than anyone she had ever met before.
"It's just, I've lost so many people in my life. I couldn't lose anymore. Not after my parents, nor my wife." He had no idea why he was telling her this. No one knew at the office except Munch, but he had been a rookie himself when it all occurred. Neither he nor Uncle Don had pushed him to talk about it and he never did. However, there was something about this woman that made him feel safe, feel free to talk to in a way he never had with Kathy. It was slightly scary. He gulped and continued with his story. "My father, he used to beat me." He saw her eyes widen, the chocolate-brown orbs filled with anger mixed in with pain. "It started when I was eight, when I had to make this diorama of the Battle of Bunker Hill. He helped me with it and we had a great time. Then I moved one of the trees, so that a cannon emplacement could be seen. When he noticed, he got this strange look in his eye. Before I knew it, he slapped me in the face. 'What did I tell you about listening to me?'" Elliot thundered, making Olivia jump. "He bent me over and removed his belt, hitting me over the back with it over and over. When he finished, I was in tears. He got up, put his belt back on and remarked, 'Only pansies cry.'"
Seeing a tear fall down his face, Olivia leaned over and wiped it away with her thumb, earning a small smile from him. She could have melted into those blue eyes of his.
"Needless to say, it was bearable until my mother started having her problems. She was bipolar and refused to take medication. She was a sweet woman but had these mood swings, crazed one day and mellow the next. One day she got angry at my dad for his controlling behavior and grabbed his service revolver, firing at him. She hit me in the shoulder and he had her committed. The next day, the doctors found her with her wrists slit open, a note saying that she was sorry that she hurt me and didn't deserve to live." He choked back a sob. "My father was worse after that, blaming me for her death. The beatings grew more and more frequent until he tried to strangle me one time. My aunt came over just then and he couldn't finish, but I had had enough. The next day, I was fifteen at the time, I went to this very precinct to speak to Uncle Don. He was married to my Aunt Marge, my father's sister, and they were always good to me and my sister Emily. I told him about the abuse and was crying in his arms when my father walked into the station. He roared at me to come home and I said no." He laughed dryly. "First time I ever said no to him. He snarled with rage and pulled out his service revolver, intending to rid himself of his mistake once and for all." Olivia teared up at the word mistake, remembering her own mother. "Needless to say, Uncle Don shot him first, killing him instantly. My sister and I moved in with him and my aunt after that. He was more of a father to me in those three years than my real father was in fifteen."
She felt so sad for this man; it was almost like a mirror of her own life.
He wasn't finished. "At seventeen, I got my girlfriend Kathy pregnant. My aunt and uncle, as well as her parents made us get married, and that's how I got my smart, beautiful daughter Maureen." He smiled proudly, making Olivia smile as well. His smile was something else entirely. "We had Kathleen five years later, and then she was pregnant with our twins just a year ago. On the day of their birth, after my son was born she had a hemorrhage and bled out on the delivery table while I watched from the window. Lizzie and Dickie will never know their mother." There, he was finished. Bending down, he brought his knees up to his face and began to cry, the pent up pain rushing out.
Olivia rubbed his back, her eyes filled with unshed tears as well. 'This poor, poor man.' He was such a good, gentle soul and it pained her to see him suffer. "It's ok El," she said softly, sticking him with a nickname on sheer instinct. "I understand."
"How?" he choked out. "How could you possibly understand?" He felt a connection to this woman and didn't want to hurt her, but how could she understand his pain?
She let him let it all out until the tears were all gone. "I understand El, I really do." When he gave her a questioning look with his blue eyes rimmed with redness, she felt heartbroken for him. "My mother was abusive too."
Elliot's jaw dropped. "What?" he breathed. How could anyone abuse such a wonderful person, such a beautiful one? Yes Cassidy was el Grande Asshole but he was right about her beauty, though Elliot knew it was deeper than looks. He could tell that her soul was beautiful; he didn't know how but just could.
Olivia was slightly speechless from his gaze but continued. "Tucker and his wife are not my real parents, not by blood anyway. My real mother was named Serena Benson, which is why my last name is not tucker. She was raped twenty-eight years ago while in college. I was the result of that rape." For the life of him he wasn't expecting that. Elliot was genuinely pro-life except when it came to the health of the mother plus rape/incest. He didn't know of any woman who kept the baby though. "She used to drink a lot to block out the images of that night. When she was sober she was cold and distant, but when she was drunk she'd yell, slap, and punch me, telling me I was worthless and I should have been aborted like the university doctor recommended. Aborted, like I was some piece of garbage!" The last word didn't come out as a scream but as a cry, filled with sadness. Putting his hand on hers, Elliot rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. She looked up and smiled at him; God her smile was heavenly. "When I was thirteen I was late from a friend's house and she broke several of my ribs and fractured my skull. No charges were filed but ACS removed me from her care and put me with the Tuckers, who adopted me a year later. I guess you can say they were to me what Captain Cragen was to you."
Without saying a word, Elliot enveloped Olivia in his arms. She was a bit startled but soon settled into his embrace, savoring the warmth of his chest. "I'm sorry that happened to you Liv," he said, "But remember that I will be here for you from now on."
She smiled into his chest. "Thank you El." They just sat there in each other's arms, nothing romantic but simply two broken individuals finding comfort. About ten minutes later, they dusted themselves off and walked back into the precinct, both feeling much better.
That night, both slept contentedly, their usual nightmares replaced by dreams of each other.
PREY PREY PREY PREY PREY PREY PREY PREY PREY PREY
The fluorescent lights of the abandoned Cape Town warehouse flickered on the ceiling, presenting an intermittent cloud of blackness around him. Clutching the Webley .455 caliber revolver in his right hand, his left wrapped tightly around a razor sharp Katana, the man proceeded slowly down the dark corridor, his senses honed by years of training. His prey was out there, enraged and ready for a fight. He fancied himself the predator, but there was always a small part of him that sought out the elusive one who'd finally best him.
Making sure to check his corners, the man entered the large central room of the warehouse when a screaming shape lunged at him, bringing down a large metal bar on his hand. Grunting in pain, the Webley dropped out of his hand. His target made to grab it but the man kicked it away, leaving them nothing but their melee weapons. "Gereed ou man om te sterf – ready to die old man?" said the prey in Afrikaans.
"We'll see about that friend," smirked the man, gripping the Katana in both hands and lunging at his target, who parried the thrust with the bar. The fight went on for nearly five minutes, a flurry of thrusts and counter thrusts, metal striking metal.
The prey, one of Cape Town's most decorated constables, had been hunting down this man for nearly a month. The son of a bitch had to die, but how? Fending him off, he spotted the Webley resting on the floor right alongside an old file cabinet. 'Checkmate.'
"You are getting weak. Care to take the coward's way out constable," taunted the man, raising the Katana over his head. The constable grinned fiercely and kicked a pile of old dirt into the man's face, forcing him to stumble back blindly. Dropping the bar, the white South African ran for the revolver. Picking it up in his hand, he swiveled around only to feel a sharp pain in his stomach. He looked down to see the blade buried to the hilt inside him.
"A smart plan, but in the end pointless my good friend." He removed the sword of the ancient samurai. "You put up a valiant struggle my good chap. One that was truly the work of a noble warrior, unlike those other fools." The constable looked at him, the monster who murdered his friends. "Would you like me to give you a quick warrior's death?" The constable spit blood in the man's face. "You still have fight in you, that's good. I'll give it too you anyway." He walked behind the Afrikaner and placed the sword on his neck. The blade felt cold on his skin. "I trust we shall meet in the golden halls of Asgard someday my good friend." He raised the blade and brought it down, slicking the head clean off.
Setting the sword down on a worn wooden table, the man sighed while removing a small map of the world out of his pocket. The map, one with Europe zoomed in, was filled with circles with Xs through them. He found South Africa and put one through the circle, a red dot where Cape Town was. 'Now what's next?' he thought, skimming through the remaining countries. 'Was it time?' The last several warriors were good but lacking that spirit, that sheer strength of pure élan that he possessed. It was the one thing that separated the warriors from the dregs and wretches of society.
"Yes," he said out loud. "It is time." Taking his pen, he drew a circle around the country that had called out his name since the beginning of his adventures, the United States of America. "Off to the land of the free and the home of the brave." He smiled, relishing what he would find.
A/N: I know that was a long chapter, but it was necessary to establish the plotline.
To all of those who are a bit annoyed that Elliot and Olivia haven't hooked up yet, be patient. There is a method to my madness I assure you.
Regarding the mystery man at the end, he will reveal more of himself as the story progresses. He is not any of the SVU villains but merely a creation of my mind.