Monday, May 22

9:30 pm

The bar down the street from Elliot's apartment didn't cater to his age group or vocation. On any given night, the clientele would almost always consist of military veterans and a handful of blue-collar factory workers, though Elliot was damned if he knew why they chose this bar out of the hundreds of others they could go to; nondescript was too descriptive an adjective for it. But that's probably why, he thought. From the dingy pool table in back to the (deliberately? accidentally? ironically?) random assortment of neon signs, sports paraphernalia, old license plates, and glossy photos of half-naked pinup-types lining the walls, the bar insisted upon its own indifference to any label that could possibly be assigned to it.

The beer was cheap; the decor was forgettable. Here was a bar for either alcoholics or writers, and though Stabler was neither, he liked it all the same.

As he sat at the bar, alternately watching the Red Sox beat the Yankees, the Suns trounce the Clippers, and the Hurricanes tie up the series against the Bruins, Elliot nursed his pint and finished off a complementary bowl of peanuts sitting next to his glass.The flashing yellow-green light on the top corner of his cell phone blinked on and off; he had a message waiting. He'd known it was Olivia, had screened the call, and had chosen not to answer it. That was half an hour ago. He shut his eyes.

Downing the last gulp from the glass, Elliot stood up from the counter and flipped open the phone to check the message just as it began to buzz in his hand. He didn't even check the Caller ID before pressing 'Talk' and holding it to his ear. "Olivia, look—."

The teary voice on the other end wasn't Olivia's. "Detective Stabler, it's Audrey."

Elliot sat back on the edge of his chair. "Hey, Audrey, what's wrong?"

Through pained sniffles and sobs, he tried to make out what Audrey was saying. "I just got a call from Detective Benson. She said sentencing is on Wednesday."

He sighed deeply, realizing why Olivia had been calling him. "Audrey, listen, I know it's not far away, but you don't have to worry about a thing. Olivia will be there, and so will I, and—."

"No," she cried. "I'm upset because she told me you're off the case!"

Elliot paused, unsure what to say.

"She said you were removed from the case this afternoon. Is that why she called me? You said you would call me."

She began to cry again, and Elliot became aware of the prying eyes and ears of the bartender and two barflies a few stools down. Elliot dug around in his wallet for a bill sufficient to cover his tab and tossed it to the counter before heading toward the door. "Look, Audrey," he said as he stepped down to the street, "I found out about the sentencing hearing from you, just now. If I had known, I would have called you. I promise."

"Why did you have to leave the case?" she asked. "Was it because of me?"

Elliot shook his head, "It had nothing to do with you."

"Then why?"

"I can't tell you that, Audrey," Elliot used the practiced, even tone learned over years of raising temperamental daughters, "But I will tell you that I'll be there on Wednesday. I promise."

He knew he couldn't actually promise anything. Not without getting the 'OK' from Cragen first, he thought.

But in the moment, it didn't matter; his words had the desired effect. Audrey had calmed herself down enough that her breathing had evened out, returning nearly to normal; she could be heard on the other end sucking in deep, measured breaths.

"Okay," she repeated to herself.

"You all right now?" he asked.

"I'm all right."

She muttered her goodbye and Elliot hung up, perplexed. As he walked the block between the bar and his apartment, he dialled Olivia's number. She answered, groggy; he knew she had only just finished her shift, the same shift he knew he should have been finishing too. Guilt thickened his tongue.

"How are you?" she asked.

He groaned by way of response and sat himself down on the stoop.

"That bad?"

"Audrey called," he began, recounting the conversation he'd just had.

Olivia didn't say much for a while. "She didn't sound too good when she hung up on me, either. I just assumed it was because the turnaround was quick on this one."

"That's what I thought," he said.

"She feels a very strong attachment to you, too."

Elliot sighed, squinting up into the streetlight, searching for his response. "You gonna start up on this again?"

"You know this whole persecution complex you've got going on?" Olivia sighed. "It's really not a good look for you. Knock it off."

Elliot said nothing for a moment. His pride aside, he had to agree with Olivia. The more he thought about it, the more it did seem like Audrey had formed a strong—if not entirely healthy—attachment to him. Of course, there had been cases in the past where victims had kept his or Olivia's numbers on speed dial longer than would be considered normal. But it had been Olivia's arena, almost exclusively; her personality, her softness and her way with people, made her susceptible to that kind of attachment. He always assumed he was too gruff for anyone to really connect with him meaningfully in the time they had together.

But maybe that wasn't it at all. Maybe this was different. Maybe the trauma was just too much to handle on her own, and if it had been Olivia, or Fin, or literally anyone else who had found Audrey that day in the apartment building, maybe it would have been the same thing.

Yes, yes that's it, he rationalized it to himself, unable to comprehend any other reason for Audrey's fondness of him. That has to be it.

Olivia was still talking; he realized he'd missed a good chunk of what she'd said. "…Might feel abandoned. She would perceive your absence as a substantial threat to her well-being. You're the only person she's opened up to. The only person she trusts."

Elliot leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and running a hand over his face. "So, Dr. Benson," he teased, "What should I do?"

"Go to the hearing. Support her over this last hurdle. When all is said and done, we can make one last push for her to see someone. Maybe Huang can recommend something."

"We should arrange for him to meet with Audrey after the hearing," Elliot offered. "Casually."

"If she's going."

With certainty he wasn't sure he was entitled to bear, Elliot nodded to the night. "She'll be there."

"You'd better put a call in to Cragen and make sure he's not gonna ride you about going tomorrow. I'll call Huang."

"Good," Elliot said, pushing himself off the stair and up toward the door.

There was a pause at her end, but Olivia's sudden inhalation stopped him from speaking, sensing that she wasn't done just yet.

"Hey El?"

Elliot really liked it when she called him that, though he'd never told her as much. He smiled. "Yeah?"

Olivia sighed deeply into the phone. Elliot held back from saying a word, standing on his stoop, his key in his hand and his hand half way between his body and the lock on the door. He waited for her to continue, but she didn't.

"Liv?"

"It's nothing," she replied. "I'll see you tomorrow."