Title: Facing Forward

Author: ZombieJazz

Fandom: SVU

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law&Order: Special Victims Unit and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Jack, Benji and Emmy have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.

Summary: Brian Cassidy and Olivia Benson attempt to cope with his past abuse while trying to maintain their relationship and raise their family. This set of chapters is set in the aftermath of the S20E16 (Facing Demons). The story is also set in the Hello, Goodbye and Welcome Home AU.

Olivia wrapped her arms around Brian, pressing into his back. She knew he'd heard her coming up behind him but he hadn't given her a glance. He just stayed leaned outside Benji's door, his arm raised and bracing the frame as he gazed inside. She wasn't sure how long he'd been there. She suspected a while. She vaguely remembered her body semi-registering that his weight had shifted against the mattress and he must've been leaving the bed. But she hadn't opened her eyes and must've easily drifted back off. When she'd roused for her own nightly bathroom run, though, she'd still found his side empty and had gone looking when there wasn't the dim light from the television casting shadows into the hallway.

Brian briefly tensed as she invaded his space but just as quickly forced himself to relax as she pressed a light kiss into his shoulder blade. He still smelled like the smokehouse they'd been in. It had permeated him – likely all of them – so much she could almost taste the smoke and salt of their dinner against his bare skin.

Olivia rested her cheek against him and gazed around him into the bedroom too. For all the extra expense they'd gone to to get more square-footage and extra bedrooms for the kids to grow into, sometimes she wondered why. Because for all the bickering and nattering and all out brawling Benji and Emmy had every day of the week, the two of them still preferred to bunk down in Benji's room. It likely wouldn't last too much longer. Not with the stage-and-age and tween tantrums they were getting into with Benji hitting the double-digits. But for now it was still like neither of them knew how to sleep alone in a bedroom. Both of them still wanted nightlights on and starlights overhead. And nearly every night – to the point it was now just routine – it was a given that storytime was on the futon in Benji's room. Pulled out and pilled in with Emmy inevitable feigning sleep before the chapter was over – and her or Brian just leaving her rather than risking waking her. For now Emily's room was more of a playroom than a bedroom. For now.

"Was one of them up?" Olivia whispered against his back.

"Emmy," he rasped quietly. "Usual. Wanted a drink. Kitchen water."

"Mmm," Olivia smiled against his back. "Of course."

"Tastes better," Brian deadpanned – because they'd had this conversation and argument with their stubborn little girl over and over again. Though, she might have a point. They did have a filter on the kitchen sink and the water (and the ice cubes that the kid loved to play with on the fridge's door until reached the point they had to disconnect the thing for a while before they broke it) from the fridge's dispenser went through its own filter progress before ending in a cup. But Olivia still wanted to think at five – almost six – that their little girl should be able to fill the glass in the bathroom if they were thirsty in the middle of the night.

"Need to break that habit," she muttered against his skin. And smiled because as much of a hassle it was – as annoying it could be – she already knew how quickly your needs needing and wanting your help with little things like that was too short-lived. It'd stop before they knew it too. "She's got you wrapped around her baby finger, Brian."

"I know," he allowed. "Both accounts."

He could've just as easily told her that she was one to talk. They were both disciplinarians and push-overs in their own ways. Just like both kids had figured out what buttons to push and when. And who to go to on different matters. They both knew how to play the game. They knew what they could sway Daddy on and what they could sway Mommy on.

Olivia rubbed her cheek against his shoulder but he turned slightly in her grip, leaning against the jam now and placing his arm around her too. She let herself rest against his chest. Brian generated heat, even though there was enough of a chill on his skin she could tell he'd been standing in that doorway for a lot longer than was necessary to make sure Emmy fell back to sleep without waking the rest of the house.

"I didn't hear her up," Olivia said.

"You were out," he provided. "Tired."

"Yeah …," she muttered quietly. "Always."

Always, always, always. Sometimes it felt like she was living in a perpetual state of exhaustion anymore. Always. But some night sleep was still hard to come by. She was glad she'd managed to drift off that night. These past couple weeks the insomnia accompanying all the tension and turmoil and guilt and worry had been bad. She knew her body – her mind – had likely finally given her a little bit of relief because her and Brian had managed to connect even a little bit that evening. To start chipping away at hopefully finding some way through this.

She could feel some relief – a small reprieve from the tension – in his body too. He might be forcing himself to try – to work on this – she could feel that too. But he was also letting himself be open to it on some level. She couldn't remember the last time he'd let her hold him like this. That he'd held her back.

And that made her a sad again. But she forced herself too – to focus on the feel of where he'd placed his chin. The feel of his cheek against her head. The start of stubble that never really cropped up on him to even a five o'clock shadow point.

She stared into the room with him – against him – at the two little people they'd made their own. They'd made their family with. For better or worse. Sometimes lately it felt like the better days were few and far between. If they wanted the better they needed to focus on the little moments and small victories in any given day. Or maybe stare at them in moments like this – when they were still, quiet and not moving.

"You think their uncle touched him," Brian rumbled at a level so quiet she almost hadn't heard. It was more she'd felt it vibrate in his chest and the tension ripple there again. A near skip in his heart beat.

Olivia pulled away from him just slightly to find his eyes. He let them drift to hers – briefly – but they set back on Benji's form under the heaped covers. They weren't tangled around him from his constant flailing in the night, so she already knew that Brian had likely readjusted them for their boy when he'd tucked Emmy back in.

"You can't project on him," she whispered gently to him.

"I'm not," he said.

She sighed a bit. Exhaled. "Brian, you'll drive yourself crazy. It will hurt your relationship with him."

"I'm not," he said again. But it wasn't as firm as the first time.

Olivia backed from him a bit more and more firmly found his eyes. "No, Brian," she said. "I think Jack's told us enough, we know enough, and we've raised Benji long enough that we both know it's not him that we have to worry about that with."

He nodded – unsurely. But she felt him exhale too. Still, he scrubbed at his face. "It just sometimes feels like he's got this fucking neon flashing victim sign over his head."

"I know," Olivia allowed. "We call do. Call it a family trait."

He made a little noise at that and went back to staring into the bedroom. But Olivia pulled back more, tugging at his hand.

"We don't want to risk waking them," she whispered at him. "Come back to bed."

He let her pull him away from the kids' rooms but his hand grazed out of hers as they passed the living room. She gave him a look.

"I'm not really sleeping lately," he said and pointed at the couch. "I'll just watch some of the dummy-box so I don't keep you up."

He slunk over there and she watched for a moment, wrapping her arms around herself. But then she followed. He gave her a look but she still sat on the couch and curled her legs under her, leaning into him as he placed his feet up on the coffee table.

"I'll sit with you for a while …" she muttered, and settled herself against him again, her arms wrapping around him, settling on his chest. He let her. His arm coming up and going around her shoulder, massaging there until his hand slowly drifted and he started stroking at her hair in a way he hadn't in a long time either. She let her eyes close and feel it – enjoy it.

"I really needed tonight," he finally said at more low levels.

She hummed a bit against him. "Me too," she allowed.

She knew he didn't mean the sex – as much as he did. They'd needed to get over that hurdle too. Though, she didn't doubt there were going to be more hurdles for them to figure out how they wanted to deal with in that specific area. Ones that might lead to some more tumbles and blow outs with missteps along the way. But it'd helped. Some trust and vulnerability and confidence building in the aftermath of all this as they figured out how to rebuild. And to build him back up. Some closeness and togetherness that they hadn't invested a lot of time into in that way in far too long.

But it was taking that leap of faith – the willingness to embrace that fear and vulnerability in the moment – that had opened them enough to the rest of the evening. Out, together – as a family in a way that hadn't felt quite as loaded. Or forced.

"I think we all needed it," she added.

"Yea …," he rasped out lowly.

"I've missed you," she said. She wasn't sure she'd meant to – really wanted to – but still added, "This."

"Me too …," he whispered off into the distance.

They might not do well at sitting with a tea, holding hands and crying their eyes out to each other. It wasn't them. It wasn't how they'd ever been as individuals or as a couple. But they could manage this. They did this. And if they could figure out how to be together like this again – to make the space and time for each other again, to like the feel of being with each other again – they could work at this. They could work through it. They could just make it work. She believed it. They'd done it before. The slow chipping away in the dark as they worked through each others walls. As they reached out to each other quietly and silently bit by bit.

"You know I can't lose you, Liv," he said. "The kids."

"I'm right here," she assured. "So are they."

"Yea …"

It hung there. And she waited but he didn't say more. He just kept playing gently with her hair. And Olivia let herself close her eyes again. She just focused on the feel of his hand and the warmth of his chest. The rise and fall of his breathing. The smell of him.

He shifted a bit suddenly – enough for her to exhale and open her eyes.

"Let's lay down …" he murmured.

She made a small sound of acknowledgement and backed off him just enough for him to shift his legs to the length of the couch. But she'd settled back against him before he'd even settled into his reclined position. Her back wedged against the couch and her front draped on him. It was comfortable and warm. For her. Maybe not so much for him. Though, his one hand blindly found one of their blankets on the back of the couch and shook is over top of them, kicking it to full length with one of his feet before he again held her. Her eyes already drifting shut. She hoped he'd sleep too. Not that he'd wait until her breathing settled and then turn the TV on mute and stare at the screen some more.

"You want me to put a kibosh on the Chicago trip?" he rasped quietly again after some time.

She hummed against his chest through her haze again. "No," she allowed. "You're right. Benji could use a change of scenery. Some father-son time. It's just … I understand you needing to get away for a few days, Bri. Just don't use it as an excuse to run away."

"Yea …," he allowed again. And it sat there. "I was thinking I'd try to get us some tix to the Blackhawks. Or the Bulls. Whoever's playing in the United Center this week. That'd be cool, right?"

"Very cool …," she muttered, her eyes drifting again. She rubbed a bit at his chest, trying to calm him some more. To get him to shut his eyes too.

"Because what the fuck else is there to do in Chicago," he mumbled.

"I don't know …," Olivia breathed. "Museums."

"He'll likely just want to hang in the pool anyway," Brian said. "I checked. There's one."

"Mmm …," she hummed again. "And watch pay-per-view super hero movies in bed."

"Yea. Exactly. So if the timing's shit, I can push the meetings a week or so. Or—"

"Brian," she sighed and found his eyes again. "It's fine. Emmy's registered for day camp. We'll do some Mommy-daughter stuff."

That got a little smile out of him – because they both knew Emily's definition of activities for Mommy-daughter time were pretty different than almost anything Olivia had ever imagined would constitution Mommy-daughter time.

"Oh, yea, like what?" he grinned at her.

"Mmm …," Olivia mumbled and settled against him again. "I've been informed we're making unicorn poop."

A quiet laugh rippled in his chest and he squeezed up at the bridge of his nose in his amusement. It made Olivia smile against his chest too.

"This exist or she pull it out of her over-active imagination?" he asked.

Olivia shook her head a bit. "If it's out of her imagination, there's other little girls who are apparently her spirit animals. I looked it up. There are 'recipes'."

"Do I even want to know?"

"Just another craft store run," Olivia said. Between Emmy and Benji – and the slime craze – they really should take out stock in Elmer's glue. "It's just multi-colored, glittery slime."

"Very girlie," he said.

"Did you hear her giving me the rundown of the 'molecular chemistry' of slime at dinner?" Olivia said.

Brian shook his head. "Little weirdo."

"Our little weirdo," Olivia corrected. Though, sometimes neither of them knew what to do with Emmy and some of the stuff that came out of her mouth. She was as much of a foreign entity and an adventure in parenting as Benji was. As he still was. The two of them were entirely different experiences. She wasn't sure one prepared them for the other at all.

"She told Mom this week that she wanted a narwhal birthday party," Brian said.

Olivia smiled even more against his chest.

"She had to ask Em what a narwhal was. She got told 'like a unicorn whale'. I think Mom only heard 'unicorn' and got pretty excited."

"Mmm …," Olivia hummed again. "Well I've got a sneaking suspicion that this unicorn poop might be a dry run for a narwhal poop slime birthday party. So if the 'whale' part didn't throw your mom enough, the rest of that theme will."

They got quiet again.

"They said something to Mom this week about us 'fighting about everything'," he muttered. "She was at me about it."

"It was going to happen eventually."

Brian rubbed at his forehead again. "You think you'll be having Mom pick Em up from day camp this week?"

"Likely," Olivia allowed.

"So she's likely going to be at you about it too."

"I know how to handle your mom, Bri," she allowed.

"Just …"

"I'm not going to betray your confidence. It's your conversation to have with her. When you're ready."

"I'm never going to be ready for that. She doesn't need to know."

"Yes, Brian," she whispered against his chest. "She does."

She felt him shake his head. She felt the tension in his chest again. She held him a bit tighter.

And they lay there again.

"I've been thinking …," Olivia mumbled against him.

"About what?" rattled in his chest.

"That I've been telling myself for months that it's us that have been out of sync. And we were – are – but it's not just us. It's everything. Our schedules are so overloaded – work, kids. We're all out of sync. I think we've all been missing each other, Bri."

His hand started stroking her hair again. "Yea. Think you're right."

"And it's all going so fast, Brian," she said. "It's just disappearing. We aren't getting to enjoy it. And we're missing it. We need to … get in sync again. Figure out some way to slow down. Enjoy each other again. Like tonight."

"Yea …," he allowed.

She rubbed cheek against his chest. "Maybe we should both book off a Friday or an afternoon at least. Get out of the city for a day or two."

"Could come to Chi-Town with me and Ben …"

She sighed. "I can't. Not on this short of notice with our caseload. But we should plan for it, I mean. Make time for that. Do something as a family. Actually take some vacation time. Go somewhere. Spend time together."

"I'd like that," he said. "Just not somewhere overrun with other people's little monsters."

Olivia smiled a little at that.

"You know … sometimes … I feel like my whole identity is wrapped up in being a cop and being a mom. If you take that away what am I? Who am I? What do I have left?"

"Know the feeling …," he gravelled softly.

"Being with you – time like this, now – it helps me feel like just me, who I am, is still in there somewhere. Still exists. Matters. I think … that's part of why … it just hurts and festers so badly when we're out of sync, Bri. I'm not just missing you – or us – I'm missing me. I'm missing having you see me."

It hung there until he finally whispered far away like, "Bearing witness to each other's lives …"

Her eyes drifted to his and watered a bit. Sometimes people treated him like he was so stupid. He wasn't. He wasn't shallow or immature or dumb. He was just broken. But instead of leaving him entirely hard and scarred – it just left him with these tender spots and outright wounds. He bleed for those he cared about daily.

"I love you," he nodded at her. "I haven't really told you that enough lately."

She allowed a thin frown. "Me too," she said. "I love you too."

She settled back against him. Her nails against his chest and his fingers in the strands of her hair. And they inhaled and exhaled – and tried again to make it enough. To stop and listen – to witness the moment together. Quietly and silently. Because sometimes that was as much as they could offer. It was what they were good at.

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