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 gripped at Brian's shoulder, laying against his chest in the dark. She listened to his heart beat. She felt his breathing. A position she'd been taking more and more lately. One that she'd enjoyed early in their relationship – early in them sharing a bed and a home night after night. But she'd become so aware that over the past many, many months – the better part of a year or more – she hadn't ended her day this way. Holding him.

It didn't matter if it was about him comforting her or her comforting him. Or them just sharing space together. It hadn't happened. And she'd realized that a queen-sized mattress could be really rather big. That foot or two of space between you – the back-turned sleeping positions opted for instead – could really tell you a lot about your relationship. Maybe it should've been another early sign of a problem. That they were slipping.

Not that she felt like either of them was near falling asleep right then. Even though they'd both opted to retire at the same time. They'd both been laying their in the silence and the dark for … she'd have to look at her phone and she didn't want to do that, but she suspected it was nearing an hour. Maybe more.

"I think I might get up and make a tea," she whispered to him, even though she could feel in his vitals he also hadn't drifted off. His fingers still making those restless swirls against her shoulder betrayed it too. "Do you want one?"

"Hot drinks this time of night have me up pissing all hours," he muttered absently.

"I know …," she allowed. "I just can't sleep. Can you?"

"Mmm …," he hummed at her and she felt his lips against her hairline. "Just close your eyes. Everything's fine."

She sighed. But listened. And let her eyes shut. She focused again on his heart and his breathing and the warmth of his chest and the movement of his fingers. But she didn't think it was going to work.

Her mind was still processing all that had been said that evening – even though she knew she needed to put it in the box and just let it sit for a while. But she couldn't.

Brian had been so nervous waiting to go into the family counsellors office. She had seen him in a lot of stressful situations before – she knew he had a tendency to always be moving – but nothing like this. His knee had been bouncing. He'd been twisting so restless at his half thumb that she'd been afraid he was going to end up breaking what was left of it off. She'd eventually reached and just held onto his hand – pressing their clasped grip on top of his knee until he managed to steady it.

Olivia knew she'd coerced him into this appointment a bit. That she'd framed it around Benji – and Emily. And she knew even when she did it – that she was manipulating him. Because as resistant as he might be to talk to about himself – or for them to get outside help in working on their relationship – Olivia knew that he'd do nearly anything and then some for their kids. To protect their kids and to take care of them.

The fidgeting started again when they went in, though. But, Brian – ever the professional as rough around the edges he was – evened out after the questions started. Something to focus and direct him – even though he was used to being the one asking the questions.

"I see you've both been in therapy before?" the therapist they'd been assigned for this in-take (that Olivia suspected might end up being their one and only take at this counselling office) stated while she flipped through the separate forms that her and Brian had both made to fill out. Olivia could see that the woman was staring more at her neat writing than Brian's sloppy mess. But she'd also provided longer answers.

"Just through work," Brian muttered. "Mandatory."

The woman nodded and made a small note. "You're both with the NYPD?"

"Yea," Brian grunted. "Well, were." That thumb jutted her way. "She still is. I'm with an Investigator with the DA's office now."

Olivia rubbed at her eyebrow. "I've had some work-ordered counselling," she acknowledged. "But I've done some individual therapy and family counselling previously – while going through the process of adopting my son. He's – Benji – had some counselling as well."

Another short note got jotted and then she actually looked more at them. "And I see some concerns about him is part of the reason you're here. Why don't you tell me a bit about that? Why you're here today?"

Brian's eyes just set on Olivia then and she felt like she was the one who was starting to fidget as she tried to find the right words to explain exactly what was going on in their family – what she was worried about. She'd run over talking points in her head all day but right then it felt like they weren't the right words to express it and they just weren't coming out. It must've shown because then it'd also been Brian who reached across and found her hand on her knee – sitting next to her on that couch – and gripped it.

"There's some layers to it," he provided for them.

A nod. "I see that," she said with another glance at the paperwork. "Okay. So you've been together how long?"

"Depends on how you're counting," Brian said flatly.

It got a little smile from Olivia but there definitely wasn't one from the counsellor.

"About seven years," Olivia said and got a little look from Brian, like maybe she was surprised she'd picked that point. When he'd come back into her life – and then attached himself so quickly and readily and committedly to her and Benji. Because he'd wanted it – and worked for it – from the get. Even though she hadn't. But she'd still let him into her life – their life. He'd still been a part of it. They'd been together even when they weren't entirely.

"We've known each other for twenty," Brian said.

She let her hand feel his. "More than that," she corrected. It'd be pushing twenty-one. Even if there was a gap in there. She looked more directly at the therapist and her note taking. "We've been friends – partners – a long-time. And now we're also raising two—"

"Pretty spectactular kids," Brian interjected and kept his eyes on the woman they'd been assigned to. "No matter how you're reading those words we wrote down there."

It got a glance from the therapist. But Olivia just squeezed at his hand. Held it. Felt it.

"We've got some challenges with both of them," she managed to press out. And she felt Brian squeeze her fingers a bit tighter. She rubbed at her eyebrow again with her free hand. "They're both adopted. Benji's been in my custody since he was about four. And Brian and I fostered Emmy – Emily – since she was about nine months. And then got custody of her—the adoption went through …"

"Closer to her second birthday," Brian provided.

"And how old are they now?" the note-taker asked, checking the paperwork that already had that spelled out.

"Ben's ten. Em's five," Brian said.

"She'll be six next month," Olivia clarified. "At the end of March."

And another nod and another jotted note.

Olivia rubbed at her eyebrow again and caught Brian's eye, trying to figure out the next direction she wanted to take. He took it for her.

"So they both had some rough starts before we got them," he provided, drilling his eyes into the therapist. "Different ways. But we can still see the effects. Still having things come up."

Olivia nodded at that. "There's some abandonment issues in both of them. Anxiety, agitation."

"Social anxiety," Brian clarified. "With Ben more than Em."

Olivia nodded again. "There's just some … development delays in Benji. Mostly socially. But we've seen some with … communication and literacy. Cognitive …" she swept her arm in a long gesture. "Since he had a longer start before we had him in our family … there were some … nutritional and hygiene deficiencies."

"That's being polite," Brian muttered and looked directly at the therapist again. "His mother was a junkie and he lived in what amounted to an unheated pig sty for the better part of three years. And most pigs waiting for slaughter would've been eating a hell of a lot better than him."

Olivia squeezed his hand again. Trying to calm him. Anything – everything – about what Benji and Jack went through still got him worked up. Mention of Benji's biological mother or the boy's uncle in any capacity sent him over the edge. Olivia sometimes – especially now, knowing what she did – was amazed that they hadn't come away from that farm with Brian in handcuffs. That he hadn't assaulted – roughed that man up – more than just getting in his face. That he hadn't taken him near death in the process.

"Benji's small for his age," she said, though. "And he seems to get sick a lot."

"He's getting picked on a lot at school," Brian provided. "We're dealing with some bullying situations that seem to be escalating a whole lot lately."

"Okay," the therapist acknowledged – and took another note.

"And, it's been complicated this year by the fact that we finally managed to get him assessed – and he is dyslexic. So now we know why he's been struggling academically – but we're also trying to play catch up with him and the school system."

"And trying to figure out the IEP thing and the 504 thing and what the hell makes the most sense for him," Brian pressed in hard. "And then the whole fucking process around that." She squeezed his hand harder – and he realized why. "Sorry …" he muttered.

The therapist gave them a wryly frown. And Olivia – again – rubbed at her eyebrow. Brian noticed – her tell – and rubbed his thumb down the back of her hand.

"And then to add to it," Olivia said, "it's pretty clear – as stated by her school, not just us – that Emmy's gifted. So on the other end of the spectrum we're trying to figure out how to navigate that."

"They've been pushing testing and other school options at us," Brian said and then pressed out. "She's five."

"And Benji's aware that all this is going on – in some capacity," Olivia said. "And it's really not helping with his self-esteem or his situation with his peers at school that he's starting to feel like his little sister is smarter than him."

"But Ben's smart too," Brian interjected. They held their hands tighter at that. "He's got his own skills and his own areas he's interested in."

"He's quite the athlete," Olivia said. "And he's got some real artistic talent. His older brother – uncle …" she corrected reluctantly. "Jack. He's Benji's biological uncle but I adopted him too. But, he's a really talented artist too."

"And has his own set of issues to stress us out," Brian whispered a bit and stared at the ground. "He had a real rough go through his childhood and teens too."

And again Olivia squeezed his hand. Because she knew – and she knew Brian knew – that Jack had been through more with his uncle than he let on. The abandonment and failure to provide necessities of life was only part of it. The beatings – that was another. They knew that Jack's uncle had near crushed his testicles. She didn't believe for a second it'd been that one incident, though Jack had never owned up to more than that. And she also had never been sure she believed that that crushing grip over top his jeans after he'd been tossed down those steps was exactly how or what had happened. Just like she didn't believe Jack's mother abandoning him, his sister's sexual practices and disappoints on display in front of her little brother and infant son, or the grossing recognition (that Jack didn't want confirmed) that his mother had been the same way and the father who raised him wasn't his biological father – were the only reasons Jack had such failed relationships so far. Olivia saw the way he was – and wasn't – around women. And she knew Brian did too. They'd talked about it. She knew he thought about it. And she knew he likely thought about it more now.

The therapist jotted another note and flipped the pages of their forms. "I didn't notice you mention him in the forms. Does he still live at home?"

"No, no," Olivia shook her head. "He's twenty-five now. He's actually just finishing up his Masters of Architecture."

"And preparing to continue his never-ending academic career with a Masters of Urban Sustainability and Landscape. Whatever that is."

She squeezed his hand harder. "Bri …"

"Well, we'll still take that over him holding out the hat about Law School again," he muttered. And then looked at the therapist again. "Emily's big into art too. We do the art classes and pottery and pottery painting and fucking paper mache and all that with them. Her and Ben – both love all science stuff too. Our house has been oozing slime since about summer vacation."

"Anything tactile," Olivia said. "It's been a big aspect of … calming and centering and just focusing both of them. Nearly since day one."

"And even though Ben has this dyslexia thing going on, he still loves books," Brian said. "Loves, loves the library. We're there all the time. Loves to be read to. I mean, Liv's read to him since day one too. We have the hold bedtime routine thing down. Storytime."

"And comics," Olivia said. "Benji's—"

Brian nodded hard. "No, it's both of them. Em too. Loves the pictures just as much. Into the super heroes. They both pretty much want to be Spiderman. Peter Parker."

"Or the Ninja Turtles," Olivia said. "Depending on the day."

"Countdown to Captain Marvel …" Brian said under his breath. They were still having back-and-forth on if either of the kids were old enough they were going to attempt that in the theatres. Especially Emmy.

Olivia just held at his hand tighter then, though. Because she knew they were about to move into a territory he didn't want to get into.

"So we've got those layers going on with them," Olivia provided. "And dealing with all of that – especially the school and academic aspects of it, their social well-being too – it's taken a toil on our relationship."

"In what ways?" the therapist asked.

Olivia looked at Brian but he moved to starting at the floor and fidgeting again.

"There's just a whole lot of conversation," Brian said. "We don't always agree on how we want to handle any of it. Creates conflict."

"And we often don't like to fight," Olivia said and held his hand.

"Or apologizing – or over-apologizing – to each other," he said.

"So instead we've got unresolved conversations and just … general distance between us in certain areas. Important areas for our family. And our relationship."

"Generalized stress," Brian provided flatly. "We're just out of sync."

She held at Brian's hand and watched him. She gave him a long beat to say more – or to direct this now but he didn't.

"We both are in fairly high stress jobs that carry a lot of responsibility – where we're bosses and supervisors – and then we've got two wonderful but highly energetic and severely traumatized kids at home that we love to the moon and back. But between work and the kids … we haven't been putting a whole lot of time into us for …"

"A while," Brian acknowledged and gave her a side look. "A long while."

"Yeah …," she agreed.

The therapist just took some more notes and looked at them. "So are you thinking you're looking for couples therapy or family therapy or something for the children?"

It sat there. Brian glared at her a bit. So Olivia interjected.

"Parenting therapy?" she suggested. The therapist just looked over to her. "Bri and I …," she said and felt his hand fidget in hers a bit. "We both have some trauma from things we've been through at work, on the job. And neither of us … had the best childhood. There's baggage there – that while we figure out how to best parent these two little people … that I just don't want us projecting onto them."

Brian let out a long exhale as the therapist took her scribbled notes and he gave Olivia more of a side look. But then he sat forward a bit on the couch and caught the therapist's eyes again.

"Look, therapy is not my thing. But my kids – and my relationship with her," he squeezed her hand. "That's my thing. So if you think you can explain navigate our fucking education system in a politically correct way so I can properly parent these kids, have at it. And if you've got suggestions on how to keep the news that when I was basically my kid's age I had my Little League coach molesting me – unzipping my pants and sucking my dick – from completely fucking up my relationship with her or with my little boy. Or my daughter. Sure, I'd love to know how I'm supposed to pull of that one too. No pun intended."

And he slumped back in the couch. And it didn't matter how tightly she was holding his hand then – how much his grip was crushing her knuckles and fingers – it did nothing to still the way his knee was bouncing then.

AUTHOR NOTE:

The scene of them in the bedroom and Olivia thinking at the beginning of this chapter will likely be continued in the next chapter with them talking some stuff through. (Or I may go on to something else).

Reviews, feedback and comments are appreciated. Thanks for reading.