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 pulled her eyes away from watching her Little Fox's concentrated and purposeful efforts with his markers and colored pencils on the piece of art paper in front of him. His eyes moving between his art and the propped up tablet.

She'd heard Brian come in the front door but she hadn't called out and neither had he. He had likely weighed the noise-level in their home when he'd come in the door and decided that they might be taking a nap or out back. But he'd crept up the stairs and was now giving her the same sad, concerned look she knew she was mirroring. The same look that had been creasing across her face for hours even though she kept trying to give her son little smiles.

"Hey," she mouthed silently at Brian. He attempted a smile for her too but it really just creased as a frown.

She stroked at Benji's hair and ran the back of her index finger down his cheek. But he still didn't look. "Daddy's home," she told him gently. But even that didn't get him to pull his eyes from the paper when most nights he was just as likely as his little sister to be at the door before Brian could even get his coat or boots off.

Brian came over and put his hands on the back of one of chairs surrounding their dining room table. They gripped at it. Olivia could see how white his knuckles became in that grip. He stared at the little boy they'd been raising today but Benji still didn't glance up.

"Hey, Big Man," Brian tried so evenly. "Heard it's been a bit of a rough day."

Benji only shrugged.

Olivia reached and ruffled at the short hair on the back of Benji's neck. He let her but still didn't visibly acknowledge her. So she looked back up to Bri, keeping her hand on her son.

"Benji's feeling a little tired," she provided and gave Bri a little nod. "They gave him a sedative to help us stay calm today. But he felt it was pretty important to get home and draw a couple more pictures for his science fair project before we have to take it in tomorrow."

Brian allowed a little nod and went back to examining the set up that Benji had in front of him.

"Looks good, Ben," Brian said. "You're a real talented artist."

"It's a scientific diagram," Benji said – or corrected. "Not art."

Brian allowed a thin smile. "Still looks pretty good to me," Bri tried again. "Pretty proud of how committed you're being to getting this project all wrapped all on your own accord. Real studious of you."

That earned him a small glance from Benji but their son then went back to his death grip on his art supplies.

Brian sighed a little and looked at her. "Where's Em?"

Olivia jutted her head in the direction of the window they were sitting next to at the table. Brian nodded and moved to stand next to it and gaze out it at their daughter playing around in the melting snow and mud of their little garden lot.

Last time Olivia had checked, Emmy was using one of street hockey sticks they had back there like a hatchet to axe into the slowly defrosting ground. It looked like she was working at creating her own river system for all the run-off from the ice and snow that kept trying to melt – only for the city to be pummelled once again that year. Actually, it really looked like she was working at creating a big mess in the little bit of grass and landscaping they did manage out there. But she'd just left it. She could tell Benji needed some calm down time without his little sister wanting attention or a playmate. She'd deal with cleaning up their daughter – or the mud she and her boots brought into the house – when Emmy realized Daddy was home and came charging inside.

"I'm going to check dinner," Olivia told the two of them. She bent and placed a kiss in the crown of Benji's head as she rose. But he once again didn't budge or acknowledge her.

She moved toward the kitchen, keeping Brian's eyes as she went and then gesturing with her head for him to follow. He did, squeezing Benji's shoulder as he did.

Olivia slumped against the counter and waited for him to appear. He was pulling at his chin like he did when he wasn't sure what to do or say or how to act. When he was trying to give her space to direct the situation. But it just made her eyes water and she shook her head hard at him. And then he was immediately over to her and holding her. And she just held on to him – fighting desperately to keep in tears. To save the tears and the sobs and the fear and anger for later. For after the kids were to bed and they couldn't see or hear them.

"I should've been there," Brian muttered into her hair.

"It was just supposed to be the respiratory consult," she mumbled. "We didn't know."

"I should've come when you called," he said.

"You couldn't," she allowed. "Not today. I understand." And she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and shook her head against him and pulled back a bit to retrieve it and look at it.

"Dodds?" Brian asked, gazing down at her screen as she did too.

She nodded, stepping back from him – letting go of him – to be able to reply. She pulled at her own chin as she hit send, shaking her head at the phone. "I'm likely going to have to go in," she said and gazed back into the dining room and sighed. "Hopefully after dinner. Bed." She shook her head again and keyed something else into the phone. "Tomorrow," she whispered. "Please, let this wait until the morning."

She felt Brian's hands on her elbows. "It's OK," he assured. "If you need to go, I can handle this."

Olivia nodded but then sighed, glancing at the defrosted chicken breasts on the counter. She'd put the two baked potatoes in the oven but she hadn't gotten any farther than that. Partially because Brian hadn't been clear on when he was going to be able to get home that night – even though she knew after that afternoon he was pushing to get out the door as quickly as possible. But it was mostly because she hadn't been able to pull herself away from her Little Fox.

She lifted up the chicken. "I haven't even started dinner," she muttered.

Brian nodded again and took the meat from her hands. "I can handle it," he said.

"It should be something he'll like. Something he'll eat," she said. "He won't eat. He hasn't had anything since breakfast."

"OK," Brian acknowledged. "I'll figure it out."

She stared at the chicken he put back down on the counter. She tried to wrap her head around something they could make – that Benji would eat. Oven chicken strips? Faijitias? Maybe they should just order out. Or she should just put the chicken back in the fridge for tomorrow night and she should just make him a grilled cheese.

"I should call Jack," she muttered. "Bring him up to speed."

Brian found her hand against the counter and squeezed it, bringing her out of his spinning thoughts and her eyes back to him.

"Babe, there's nothing to bring him up to speed on yet, OK? He knows the appointment with the respirologist was today."

"If he even remembers …" she mumbled.

"Yea, exactly," Brian said. "So right now, if he asks how it went, we just tell him how it went."

She looked at him. "It went badly, Bri."

He shook his head at her. "We don't know how it went. We know they sent him for more tests."

"On the spot, Brian," she pressed. "A same-day CT and an immediate consult with a pediatric rheumatologist. A list of blood tests I've never even heard of before. You should've seen how many vials they took out of him, Bri. I counted fourteen. That's not normal. That's an appointment that went really badly."

He gripped at her shoulders. "We don't know anything yet. They don't know anything yet. They're doing their due diligence. That's a fucking good thing, Liv. It's about fucking time. We've been at them since last winter about why he's so rundown with all these fucking colds and sore throats all the time."

She slumped against the counter and stared at him again. Running that afternoon through her head while trying to just stop running that afternoon through her head. Trying to remember every word and every look from the doctors and nurses and technicians and every piece of information she'd been given so far.

"They're talking lupus, Brian," she muttered.

"We aren't going to know anything either way until the tests are back," he stressed again. "When they'd say they'd be back? When are they having him back in?"

"Two weeks …," she muttered. It was going to be a long, long two weeks. "You need to book it off. Change your schedule. We need to have both our ears there. Today …" she shook her head as she let it trail off.

Today she felt like she'd been hit by a truck and she knew she hadn't heard everything they'd said. As much as she was trying to remember it she felt like she'd … had to shut off. She had gone onto crisis management – but not work crisis. Family – again. And she'd had to focus so much energy onto keeping her son calm and protected from what was going on then – what might be going on now – that she felt like she hadn't received all the information she wanted or needed.

"I'm going to be there," he said. "You don't need to worry about that. I fucking wish I was there today, Liv. I'm so sorry …" And his voice drifted off and she saw the shift in his eyes too. He was teetering as well. He was working to be that protector – to try to take care of them – and she could tell he didn't know how. Right now she didn't know if she knew how either. Just be strong. Just keep being strong. That's what they all needed to do.

"I've been Dr. Googling," she admitted.

"Don't do that," Brian shook his head. "Not yet. Not tonight. OK?"

She just shook her head at him again. "I feel like I'm losing my mind here, Bri. Lupus?"

He pulled her to him. "One step at a time, babe. OK."

"It makes sense, though. What I've read. It sounds like it fits."

He shook his head. "I Googled too. OK. It said it's a great mimicker. That it's hard to diagnose. That a lot of times it's not lupus. It's … something else."

"What else, Bri? We've had him into the doctor so many times. He's been on so many antibiotics and Benadryl and cough syrups and children's Tylenol."

"You know what the cold and flu viruses going around the last couple years have been like."

"He's so small for his age," she said.

"Liv, that's—" And she knew he was going to argue that was his foundational years – and she knew there was truth in that too. She didn't need to hear it.

"He gets rashes," she said instead.

"He's a fair-skinned kid, Liv," he provided.

"Headaches."

"Maybe that's just stress with the whole school situation. Just not wanting to go to school and the little assholes there. Maybe it's sensory stuff. Getting overwhelmed. We've talked to docs about this," he weakly argued.

"All these aches and pains he complains about. How tired he gets."

"That happens when kids are growing," he tried that time. "And his sports, Liv. Muscles ache with that kind of physical intensity."

She looked at him more directly. "These never-ending swollen glands in his neck and the sore throats."

He sighed at her. He held at her. "Look, we got the testing out of the way. We're in front of people who should be able to piece this together for us. Tell us what's going on. And then we'll go from there. Figure it out."

She nodded against him – into his chest. Figure it out. They were always fucking figuring it out. And right now – their family just needed a break.

"I want to cry …," she let slip out. And she hated herself a little for it.

"We will," he whispered into her eye. "Just not right now."

She nodded against him and then pulled away. She picked up the chicken again.

"I'll make dinner," she said.

Brian's hand found hers. "I can do it," he said.

But she shook her head. And touched his cheek. "He wanted you today," she whispered. "He was crying so … so badly when we had to change him into the gown for the CT. He was just so scared. I didn't think he was going to let go of my hand so I could leave the bay. And he kept asking for you."

She saw Bri's eyes glisten at that. "I should've—"

"You couldn't," she acknowledge and kissed at the side of his chin. "But you can be with him now. Even if he is giving you – me, both of us – the cold shoulder."

He nodded. His head hanging near her shoulder for a long beat. But then he straightened and she watched him go back to the dining room and pull a chair over to sit next to Benji. He leaned in and rasped something into their little boy's ear and then wrapped his arm around him – holding him tight against his chest for a long time before letting go and pointing at the science fair project due into school that next morning.

The mundane routine. The life goes on. That they'd just have to keep moving forward with. Until they got an answer. And then after whatever answer they got.

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