Silver Lining
Healing
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
The window tint was dark, but sure as shit, he'd been looking up at his wife, her features full of concern and compassion and love and all the things he should be exuding for her in this instant instead of sitting in his truck feeling sorry for his self while she was spilling her guts to perfect strangers.
Double-Shit. How long has she been there?
Elliot had been so caught off guard by his wife's sudden appearance that he'd immediately directed his attention to his wrist-watch wondering why exactly she was out so early and yet when he looked at the metallic face he was slightly shocked to see that she was in fact twenty-seven minutes late which meant she had stayed in her meeting longer than necessary.
While this struck a chord within him, he also knew he had snot dripping down his upper lip and tears stained his cheek. His eyes burned telling him they were probably red and swollen. She was twenty-seven minutes late which also meant he'd been what? Crying like a baby for at least forty-five?
He heard her light tapping on the driver's-side window again and he couldn't bare to look back up at her, instead he simply stared into his lap, a long sniffle before scrubbing one hand over his face and exhaling. Still staring even as she tapped once more.
Fear gripped him even more when he thought that it was very much possible that she hadn't participated in her therapy twenty-seven minutes longer than she needed to, but what if she'd been starring at him bawling his eyes out and snotting all over himself for those twenty-seven minutes?
Triple-shit.
He took another deep breath as he heard her fingertip lightly tap the window again and he had the full honest intention of looking up yet, as he inhaled all that he could, it wasn't air that he exhaled, it was another sob. A sob so loud he wondered if she heard it through the window.
No matter how much he tried to stop himself, no matter how much he tried to 'man-up' and stop crying, he couldn't. His wife had been raped. Violated long before he fell in love with her and he thought he could help her heal, he thought he could be her rock and her fortress and all the things that would keep her safe and sheltered.
Yet, suddenly, she'd been thrust unceremoniously out of his protection and into a no-man's land filled with pain and sorrow so deep that even if she survived its depth he wasn't so sure he could survive it. How long? How long would he have to stand by and witness the destruction of his wife? How long? He needed to know.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
No. No. No. No. No. NO!
Her husband was crying. He was parked in his truck as traffic passed him by and he was sobbing as if they'd lost Isaac all over again. Yet she knew Isaac was in the safe company of good friends and the real reason why her husband was in such distress was simple.
She was a lunatic.
She'd been slowly walking down the steps of the building that Olivia knew would be her personal torment indefinitely, until she finally beat this thing that had rooted so deeply into her soul, she'd been walking slowly and wondering what types of questions he would ask her or if he would give her time to mull the session over in her mind; she'd been wondering that when she saw him thumping his forehead against the steering wheel of the truck through the window.
She didn't know what to think of it and so she'd stopped on the second to last step and watched for several seconds until she realized he was sobbing. She'd immediately made her way to the vehicle and when she heard his labored crying, his sobbing and pure pain from outside of the truck, she made her way to his side of the vehicle, and rested her palm on the darkened window and she watched, unable to help. Unable to sooth.
The thought that she'd done this pounded in her brain. She'd reduced this great man to this. She'd been so hot and cold, so hit and miss, on and off that she'd finally broken him into pieces she's not sure she could ever piece back together.
She'd called his name only to discover that he was so distraught that her voice didn't resonate and as the traffic passed her body at unsettling speeds and the cool air made her shiver slightly, she tapped on the window once more and when he looked up at her she felt her entire being die.
She'd done this to him. She'd wanted only to bring him happiness and things far beyond satisfaction and yet she'd brought him tears. She'd gifted him with unrelenting sobs and painful experiences and when he made no motion to grant her access to him she wondered if she'd finally been too much for him and having access to him would be something she'd never again have.
She watched him stare down in his lap and she didn't know what to do.
Open the door, baby. Please. I'm sorry I'm doing this to you. Please. Please. Please. Roll the window down. Do something.
She watched him suddenly sob all over again after it was obvious he was trying to pull himself together and yet he failed miserably in her presence.
She rested her hand back on the glass again and her own voice cracked as tears surfaced, "Elliot… open the door. Please?"
She sobbed harder and rested her forehead against the cool window, closing her eyes and willing his pain from him. She'd take it from him, she'd take it from him and she'd live with both of their pain, she'd let it destroy her from the inside out and eat her alive just so he'd never know the pain he felt right now.
The pain that she caused.
"Please," she bit her bottom lip and her chin quivered until she began to weep. "Please," she begged in a sandpaper whisper, "Open the door, El."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
He's aware, even though he himself is crying that she is pleading with him to open the door. He is aware that with shaved handles she doesn't stand a chance of getting in the truck and yet he can't pull himself together to pop the doors.
Until her voice breaks in a plea for him to do so and before he knows it he's pushed the button, the cool air has invaded him and her hand has cupped his cheek, turning him gently to face her.
He's not sure which one of them looked worse, but he is sure that he can smell her scent, he can seen her olive skin and her brown eyes. He can see the pain that rests in them, the pain that for some reason, no matter how much they try, no matter how whole she feels at certain points in her life; it's that pain that always resurfaces.
It's the pain of rape. The torment of life after rape. It's finally dawned on him that all of the sadness and profound sorrow that rested within her eyes was not actually a direct result from her mother's inability to love and nurture her. No, the pain that has made its self present in her eyes, her soul and their bed was a result of her brother's trespass against her.
He's just realized that the type of woman Olivia is, the strength that she had, was enough to defend her soul against her mother's abusive hand and drunken rages but that same amazing strength that resides in her-that is currently hidden-never stood a chance against rape. Never.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered and sniffled as she grazed his wet cheek with her thumb, "Elliot. I'm so sorry this is happening."
His sob was heard over the traffic, over the crying baby in the stroller on the side walk and over the two cabbies yelling at one another. His sob was heard over her own even as he reached out for her and pulled her close to him.
She'd ducked her head to avoid the frame of the vehicle and Elliot ducked his own, sobbing relentlessly against her chest, his hands fisting tight wads of material from the back of her shirt. Her lips rested lightly against his hair as she held him, her body's position awkward and painful yet he'd never once been this vulnerable to her and she didn't dare shift for her own comfort.
Not when he's lived in misery forsaking his own comfort for hers.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered again and kissed him tenderly as his grip tightened around her body, "I'm sorry. There is nothing I can do to take it away, but I can fix it. I can. I can fix it right now. I promise," she assured him softly. "I'm gonna fix myself, Elliot. I'm gonna come here every week and I'm gonna war through it. I'm gonna fix it."
He held her just as tight but he'd quieted when she began to speak and he'd listened with what little focus and strength he had left and her voice was genuine he could tell but… it's been genuine before. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her and as if it weren't far enough, he moved across the bench seat of the truck and stared outside at nothing as more warm tears followed.
His sudden absence was almost easily chalked up to embarrassment by being caught crying but it instantly occurred to her that she was wrong, that he was in fact, upset with her. She took a deep breath and slid slowly into the truck, closing the door gently as if afraid to ignite further anger or disappointment within her husband with a loud noise.
"El-"
"Stop," he shook his head and sniffled as he scrubbed his hands over his face and exhaled, trying with everything he had to stop the pathetic crying. The breaking and the shattering. "Please. Stop."
She furrowed her brows in confusion. He'd been so supportive only an hour and a half ago. He'd encouraged her to go to this meeting, drove her here and waiting patiently for her to return. What she didn't understand was his sudden change in demeanor. What had happened to him in the last ninety minutes to cause such as drastic change?
She stared down in her lap and picked at her fingernails her voice just as fragile and broken as her husband was, "Why are you upset with me? I thought you would be happy."
He swallowed a sob and rubbed his watery eyes, "I am happy, Olivia… I just…" he exhaled and leaned back against the seat.
She slid closer to him across the bench seat and timidly placed her hand on his thigh, "Elliot, look at me. Please?"
He sniffled again and to her surprise he slowly turned to look at her without the help of her hand to turn his face to her. He didn't say a word but tenderly rested his forehead against hers, his eyes slipped closed and he exhaled and remained silent.
Her hand rested against his beard and her thumb grazed gently over the moisture of his cheek as she pushed him gently away to look at him, "What is it?" she said softly, "What?"
He pulled away completely again and covered his face again, another sniffle as he lowered his hands and stared out the front window, "You've said that before," he whispered in a voice layered in pain, "You've said you'd fix this and… I just," he exhaled and sobbed back into his hands again, "I just need to know," he choked out, "that you're gonna stick with this," he cried and was still unable to look at her. "I need to know that your not gonna keep me out of your healing like you do at Vivian's."
"Elliot-"
He turned to look at her and the white of his eyes were bright red, his face puffy and wet with his crying, "Don't you see that you're killing me?
She'd not been expecting this. This break down from her husband, this admission of him dying. "El-"
"I just," he wiped at his nose quickly and shook his head, "I need to know that this is it, Olivia. I need to know that you're serious about your healing. That you're not gonna go today and then never again…" he begin to cry again at the sudden thought that if she did decide to never attend the meeting, their marriage would be a constant mess of emotional roller coasters. He'd stay with her, he knew he would, but he also knew that he felt physical pain when she had these break downs and he's pretty sure that he'll literally die one day from that pain.
She moved impossibly close to him and hooked one hand around his neck, the other wrapping around his chest and her sob surprised her as she held tightly around him, "I want more for us, El. I do. I want to get better," she sniffled and her voice leveled off, although it was still labored, "I don't know why this is coming up so late, El. I don't know why its effecting me still but… I want better for us. For our kids and… I want better for me."
He unclasped her hands from his neck and pulled back to look at her and there was something on his face that surprised her.
A tender smile.
He cupped her cheek and gently grazed her forehead with his lips, "That's the first time you've ever said you want something better for yourself," he whispered against her. "You have no idea how sexy that makes you right now. You have no idea how much I'd like to kiss you righ-"
She pulled him back suddenly, just enough to fit her lips over his and kiss him almost fervently until he managed to take control leaning into her, his hands embracing her and leading her to lye on the soft bench seat of the truck. "Wait-" she whispered franticly, "Wait, I-"
He hovered over her, a look of confusion and rejection on his face. She'd kissed him, she kissed him with an urgency and confidence that surprised him but just as fast as she'd kissed him, she was laying under him in the confines of a vehicle she loves to make love in, and she was pushing him away.
Stabler! You idiot! She just came out of a rape counseling session and here you are trying to get her under you. Bastard!
"I'm sorry," he said tenderly, "I'm sorry. I should-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put pressure on you, or-"
She smiled up at him and raised her leg to rest at the side of his body, effectively encouraging him to stay exactly where he was, "Stay. Stay, I just… I want to give you more. I want to give you something more."
He furrowed his brows and leaned on his forearm to run his free hand through her short hair, "You don't have to give me anything, Liv. I'll wait. I'll wait for you, I just," he smirked shyly, "I'm sorry. You are just insanely sexy and I can't help myself."
She raised her head and kissed him softly, sipping and nipping wherever she wanted to. He moaned against her as her hand suddenly wedged slowly between their bodies, "Liv."
"Shh," she smiled and kissed him again, and while he fully expected to feel her hand on his throbbing body, he was surprised to feel the back of her hand near his hip. Her hand was digging, searching, feeling and he was so intrigued by what was happening or lack thereof that he broke from her lips and ducked his neck to look between them. Her hand, nowhere near the front of his, but deep within her pocket and slowly pulling something out.
He watched as she produced a white business card between her index and middle finger and held it between them as an offering. "You want more from me. A promise that I won't come here once and then never again. You want that. You deserve that and I want to give it to you."
He furrowed his brows, took the card that she offered and sat back, "What's this?" he asked in curiosity.
She sat up in the truck and she didn't care that a woman was nudging her male partner to look inside of their truck from the sidewalk. She didn't care because right now, Elliot was looking as confused as ever. She smiled softly, "It's an appointment card… I-I booked a few more sessions with the group. It'll get me through the month and then… I think maybe… maybe I'll book some more."
He looked up at her and his smile was accompanied by tears and the pure hope on his face. "Liv-"
She returned an equally gentle smile and to his surprise slowly pulled him to her by his shirt and laid back with him on top of her, her hand about his face, "I want something better for me, Elliot. I'm… I'm ready now."
Elliot grinned and attacked her mouth with his own. His kiss was eager and ecstatic and bruising and she was fully and happily accepting. Yes, they would have a conversation later about her session, but now… now he wanted her and while he momentarily felt it would be wrong considering the context of this encounter, that was quickly erased when he heard the buckle of his belt open. His zipper drop.
Felt her slender, perfect fingers wrap around him.
He broke from her mouth and panted, eyes closed. He was about to say something when she stroked him perfectly and he was so confused. He wanted to ask her if she was sure she wanted to do this right now, so soon after her meeting. He wanted to ask her if the meeting was the cause of her becoming a sudden seductress. He wanted to ask her so many things but her hand was too perfect and he's wanted her to want him, to touch him and accept him like this for too long.
He's wanted her to come freely under him, he's wanted her to cry out his name without abandon, he's wanted her to beg him to make love to her. He's wanted to reconnect with her like they've done so many times before she melted down on him. He's wanted her. Wanted. Craved. Desired. Her.
One more stroke and he would come in his dress pants and she would tease him mercilessly.
"Come, El," she whispered to him, "I want you to come," she said and swiped her thumb over the head of his penis.
He twitched in her hand and she smirked because she knew him too well, "Come," she told him again as she rose up just slightly, licked at his mouth, and stroked him faster.
His mind was yelling at him that this was so entirely wrong. That no woman would want this after coming from a rape crisis group, but it felt so good to be handled by her. To be told by her to come as she held him in her grasp. The warmth of her hand, the scent of her shampoo. "Liv!" he ground and slammed his eyes tightly shut, his teeth barring as his hips instantly thrust into her hand, "Liv! Please, don't make me do this."
"Come," she repeated and let her thumb play over the tip of his body, his pre-cum providing just enough lubricant to make it all the more enjoyable and confusing. "Come, Elliot. It's okay. Enjoy it," she whispered and pulled his head down to her, kissing him and tracing his lips with her tongue. "Come," she encouraged again.
He supported his weight on his hands as her hand continued to stroke him and he didn't know what to do. To deny her this would hurt her feelings, cause her to think he didn't want her, and to enjoy this could mean she would see him as a selfish prick more concerned for his sexual satisfaction than her healing.
He opened his eyes, and slammed them shut again because looking down at her caused a surge in his length that he thought might undo him immediately. "Olivia," he whined. Literally whined, "Please. I don't know what you want."
She chuckled and damnit that chuckle was so low and so sexy his hand immediately covered hers as she stroked him, "Please," he grated.
"Look at me," she whispered and vaguely heard a man yelling at a meter-maid for what he claimed was a ridiculous ticket. "Look at me, or I'll make you come in my hand right now," she warned and stroked him so perfectly his eyes burst open to stare at her.
She ran her hand along his hairline, noticed he was perspiring yet it was chilly in the truck, "Its okay. Don't worry about me. I want you to come. I want you to enjoy it."
"Liv-"
She contracted her abs, raised up and rested her lips at his ear, her leg moving to widen the cradle of her hips as her other hand instantly dove into his slacks to accompany her already working hand, "I have your dick in my hands, Elliot…"
He whimpered at her sudden choice of words so unlike her. Maybe he should be seeing red flags but he's seeing only pure bliss and he thinks maybe he deserves this. As much as he wants to stop her, he wants to be pleasured by her too.
She massaged his sac with one hand, stoked with the other and sucked on the lobe of his ear as his hips gave way to the desire and rubbed against her, "There you go," she encouraged, "Let go Elliot. Let go."
He gritted his teeth, shook his head in pain because that's what this was turning into. A painful need to come and the painful realization that doing so could have consequences he couldn't bare. "I can't," he groaned and tried to sit up only to find that her grip on his penis was secure and she wasn't letting go.
She pulled him back to her, the meter-maid and man still arguing as she cupped the back of Elliot's skull still stroking with the other, "I'm fine, Elliot. You can. I want you to."
"Liv-" he attempt to protest again when he felt her bite at the line of his jaw.
"Damn you," she chuckled in his ear, "I've got your dick in my hand, and I'm soaking wet right now, so you either fuck me in this truck with everyone around to hear me, or you come like I want you to."
He ducked his head, attached his lips to her neck and felt her perfect hold slip down his shaft, move back up, take a teasing swipe around his tip only to return to his base and pull back up.
He yelled against her neck as his hips slammed into her hand and he came in violent shudders, his mouth securely fastened against her skin as he yelled out. Soon, his hips had settled but his audible convulsions had not and it occurred to her that her husband was crying against her.
"Shhh," she soothed. "Shhh, it's okay."
He stayed there, over her, sweating and satiated and confused and worried that she was gonna kill him or break down when they got home. He held tight to her, didn't lift his head even as he withdrew her hand from his pants feeling her hesitate before wiping along the fabric of his boxers and holding him over her. She'd just wanted him to have something good today. Something that felt good.
He continued to cry and she was immediately worried that she'd gone too far. That she'd taken from him instead of given to him. "It's okay, Elliot," she assured him again. "I wanted you to feel something good."
His hips pressed into her again and she smiled against his head, his face still buried against her neck, "I even talked dirty," she teased softly and stilled when his head jerked up and his face hovered inches over hers. She smiled, hoping to calm his confusion, she nodded in assurance, "It felt good to do it, Elliot. It did… I'm okay. I wanted to do it… Are you okay?" she asked timidly.
He rested his forehead against hers, "Promise me… Promise me you won't be mad at me for this."
She smiled sadly that she'd placed him in this predicament of not being able to accept her touch without thinking of the consequences, yet she understood her timing sucked today. "The only thing that will upset me, is if you decide to not walk with me through all of this."
He looked at her again and the hope resurfaced immediately, "You… you're gonna let me in? All the way? Not just when you want?"
She held his face in her hand, kissed him delicately, "All the way. I promise you. Whatever you want to know or talk about and even when I don't want to talk. I'll let you in. You have my word. No more pushing you away, no more trying to do it alone or hoping it'll pass. All the way, I promise."
His grin was beautiful as she wiped at his wet cheek, "I love you, Olivia."
"And I love you, Elliot," she whispered and let a mischievous grin unfold.
"What?" he smirked at her and lightly kissed her mouth, "What are you thinking about?"
She bit her bottom lip and looked up at him, her hips raising up to meet his, "You know I hate this truck? That I only like it for one thing?"
He blushed, felt the impossible stirring of his crotch again, "Liv-"
"Right here, Elliot," she insisted.
He nodded imperceptibly and sat up, his hand instantly at her buckle, caution thrown out the window as he unbuckled her button and was just about to unzip her pants and shove them to her thighs so he could have his mouth on her, when her hands immediately covered his. Fear and complete shock inscribed on her face.
"What? What is it?" he asked in concern.
"What was that? Did you hear that?" she whispered and he was just about to ask what she was talking about when he heard the same undeniable sound.
The tapping of an officer issued flashlight against a window.
Elliot's stomach churned and he immediately refastened his wife's clothes, unwilling to let her be seen by anyone other than him. The tapping continued, this time accompanied by a voice, "Just 'cause your windows are tinted doesn't mean I don't see the truck move! Open up!"
Olivia covered her face, "Oh. No. Elliot, we're gonna go to jail."
He snickered, "And you're a repeat offender."
She smacked at his arm, "Let me up!"
He laughed and zipped his own pants, as she slid in behind the steering wheel, and turned the key to roll down the window, "Hello," Olivia smiled, "can I help-"
"Save it, lady," The young meter maid exhaled, "you're parked illegally, either move this tin can or I'll cite you and I swear if you give me one damn problem about it, I'll have you arrested for having sex in public-"
Elliot arched his brow and leaned over to see the young girl, "Technically, we weren't having sex."
"Right," the woman rolled her eyes, "the truck just naturally does that. Look I could give a rats ass what you were doing, move the truck or be cited."
Elliot licked his lips, "You know, you sure are-"
"We'll, move the truck," Olivia smiled, cutting her husband off, "sorry to occupy your time, miss," she said and immediately started the truck.
"Just move it," the meter maid groaned and moved along in her misery as Olivia pulled the truck out into traffic stopping at the first red light only yards away. Both she and Elliot stared forward, until Olivia couldn't resist the smile. She bowed her head and tried to cover her face before she laughed aloud and it felt so good to laugh. The only thing that felt better was when Elliot could no longer hold in his own hysteria and they both erupted into loud laughter that filled the truck and rested gently back into their hearts.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Daddy?" Thomas asked sleepily as his mother rocked him gently in the hotel.
"I'm sorry, baby. Daddy, isn't here," she reminded him sadly and buried her nose in his soft hair. "I'm sorry, he's not here with us, Thomas."
"I wants him," he whined, "I miss my daddy and I wan's him."
"I know," Alex whispered, "I want him too."
"You calls my daddy? He go vroom vroom and gets us?" he asked and she didn't miss the hope in his voice.
"We can't call, Daddy, Thomas, I'm sorry."
His belly began to shake against hers as he heaved in air and began to cry again, "That not fair."
Alex closed her eyes against his crying and sobbing and held him tightly against her, hoping and praying that he would settle in sooner or later and right now, she definitely wanted sooner. "I'm sorry baby. I am."
"Then you gonna makes it bedder?" he sobbed, "Pweaze? I wants my daddy. I wants him now!" he screeched and pulled back as she held him in her lap. He pounded on her chest with his tiny angry fists and his face turned bright red as he screeched.
"Thomas!" Alex said firmly and grabbed his fists, held them at her chest. "Stop. Now!"
Thomas cried as his mother held him, "I hates you!"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Their walk along Central Park had been slow and deliberate. They wanted-no they needed- to just be with one another, to exist side-by-side separate but fused as one. They needed to get back into sync like they were before Abel unknowingly pulled the carpet out from under them. Before his seventy-some-odd day existence collided with theirs.
It had felt good, so good and so pure to walk hand-and-hand with her husband, to feel the rough skin of his palm against her smooth slender hand, and it had been a simple pure pleasure to feel his hand wrap around her back and rest on her hip pulling her close to him as they walked.
She covered his hand with her own, feeling his wedding ring and allowing the tip of her finger to trace its cool metal. His face had been total bliss when she'd slipped it over his finger, her own hand shaking as she declared him her husband for better or for worse. She considers herself now, considers how she's slowly eroded his confidence.
He had been the most cocky, arrogant and confident man she'd ever met and when he married her. He'd stood there on the beach, the epitome of certain and she has slowly chipped away at that. She hasn't meant to. As God as her witness, that had never ever been a part of her plan. Her plan was simple.
Love him with everything she had.
She felt his hand grip her waist in a tender squeeze, "What are you thinking about?" he asked softly as his lips buried themselves in her short hair.
She doesn't miss a beat, "That I love you. That I love you with everything I have," she said and her voice was so small he had to stop to hear her.
He watched her carefully, watched how the setting sun softened her eyes, made her look ten years younger despite the fact that she looked like she was struggling to get her words out. He cupped her cheek softly, "Liv-"
"But.." she shook her head, raising her hand to his and holding it against her cheek. "I've… I've been. Selfish by not trying to get better by not… taking care of myself. I've been selfish and…" why was this so hard? She's asked him this before and he's freely given it. Why is she struggling with this? Why does she feel the need to rehash this conversation again? To tell him what a selfish person she is?
She knows why. She figured it out in the first thirty minutes of her session as she listened to one of the women describe how she almost lost her marriage to emotions and feelings she couldn't handle. She needs to know that he absolutely understands that she finally realizes where she stands in life. Where she needs to go from here. She needs him to understand that she is truly, overpoweringly sorry.
"Sit with me?" he asked and his voice was careful. It lacked the confidence that it's always had when it came to her. It sounded more like he honestly didn't know if she would or if he'd have to fight her on the simple things now as well.
Before she responded, he'd separated his hand from her body and she was immediately cold. The New York air had suddenly become vicious as the cold bit at her and reminded her that without him, she's not capable of making it.
Within moments, he'd been the perfect gentleman that he was and wiped debris and a discarded newspaper from the bench. He sat there, leaned forward with his elbows digging into the tops of his thighs as he peered up at her, a small smile on his face, "I'd really like it if you sat with me, baby."
Baby. She loved that and the sound of it produced a ridiculous grin but before she could do anything else she was immediately next to him and instantly, he was fighting off the cold that stalked her. His arm slipped around her and she pulled back slightly.
He was immediately alarmed and she sensed this. She placed her hand on his shoulder, gently let it slide up over the curve of his thick neck until she was cupping his bearded cheek, "Elliot… I need you to forgive me."
He smiled and instantly began to tell her she didn't need to be forgiven but clearly he didn't understand her trespass.
"Don't do that." Her voice was firm, "Don't do that. Don't tell me that…. I do need you to forgive me, Elliot. I do. I didn't know it until today, until the group, but… I realized something tonight and… I just," she licked her lips and stared into his confused eyes, "I need to know that one day…," she raised one shoulder in a lazy shrug, "that you'll find it in your heart to forgive me for… for marrying you-"
"What!" He pulled back immediately as if she were on fire and her hand just burned him. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed an artist sketching on the bench across from them only he'd stopped sketching and was now staring straight at them. She didn't care, because at that moment she was listening to Elliot freak out.
"You always do this!" he hissed. "Things get a little… a little… a little messed up and you regret marring me!" He'd moved to stand to his feet, to really yell at her this time and let her have exactly what has been on his mind only without his filter of love and compassion and understanding. No, really what he'd like to do is grab her by her shoulders and yell at her and shake her and yell at her some more until she finally understands that she can be loved. Damn her!
But, he can't do any of that because her hand has grabbed his wrist and it's her turn now to look up at him, "Please? Please let me finish. Sit here with me and let me finish."
His reluctance showed.
"Please?" she asked again and pulled gently at his wrist until he was next to her again, albeit stiff and angry and hurt and while she needs warmth, she doesn't enjoy the searing heat that his rolling off of him in waves right now because she knows he's pissed.
His head shook slowly, absently as if he were checking out for the duration of the conversation, "I can't-" he started and his voice broke. "I can't keep… hearing how much you regret me, Olivia."
"Regret you?" She was shocked. Regret? No. Not even a little. Her hands were instantly on his face and she stared at him, "I. Do not. Regret. You." She told him firmly. "I don't…You didn't let me finish-"
"Not much you can say to fix what you've already said, Liv. You were sorry for marrying me-"
"No!" she told him more adamantly. "No! Don't put words in my mouth, Elliot. Listen to me, please!"
His posture relaxed mildly and she took that. Her voice softened, "I don't regret marrying you Elliot… I regret… I regret the way I married you."
His brows furrowed, "You didn't like the wedding?"
She smiled at his cluelessness, "The wedding was beautiful… both times."
He took a deep breath and his eyes started to mist more and more. He took another breath trying to keep the tears at bay, "You're keeping me in the dark so much and I don't know what your talking about anymore. We're miles apart and I hate that feeling Olivia. I hate it."
"Elliot… I regret that I married you a broken person… not that I married you."
He relaxes even further as she gives more information to him. Information that he has probably sought their entire marriage but that she couldn't figure out until hours ago. She does realize however; that she has his attention and if she bails on him right now, if she so much as stalls at answering one of his questions, she'll do irreparable damage to their marriage. To him.
"El… when you and I started dating… I wasn't normal. I was so broken and hiding and using my job to live-"
"Mayb-" his words were quickly muffled by her palm.
"Please?" she asked again, her voice weighted with worry and distress, "Please… just hear me?"
His body softened as she lowered her hand and he pulled her closer to him, "Go on."
"You'd… It's gonna sound bad when I say this but you've got to promise me that you wont take it that way. That you'll just hear me?"
He swallowed. This didn't sound good at all. "I'll take it the way you want me to." And he hoped like crazy that he could.
"You found out about the rape-"
"Because I snooped." It was a self-condemning statement.
Her brows furrowed and she shook her head, "Elliot, it doesn't matter how you found out, just that you did and… it… it totally voided everything that I made for myself. I wasn't this cop that was fearless… I was suddenly depending on you to keep me sane and… I just… suddenly, instead of facing it head on I suppressed it all. I buried it so deep inside of me and tried to be honorable and tried to be… I tried to be a woman that you'd want to love. That you'd still respect. I still tried to be…Benson," she said and raised her shoulders again in shyness and a tint of shame.
He smirked because really she was like a cat chasing her own tail sometimes. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "But I still loved you after I knew and I still love you now… You're Stabler now… You don't need to fight to be Benson."
She bit her bottom lip and he could see there was still more she was contemplating, "Elliot… we got married and I was happy. I was. I was so happy that I thought… I thought that eventually the happiness would outweigh everything else, and then I got pregnant and then Issac was kidnapped and then…. Elliot it was one thing after another and I just… sometimes I feel like… like I've never even processed the first round, that maybe if I had… maybe If I'd worked on myself and then married you-if I'd married you as a whole woman, then this wouldn't be surfacing and… and you wouldn't be hurting."
He closed his eyes and he couldn't help the fact that a tear fell. His voice came out like sandpaper, scratchy and painful and labored, "It hurts to see you… to see you in pain, like this."
She wiped his tear gently, "That's what I regret Elliot… I tried to be superwoman and in the end… I hurt you… I tried to get by instead of trying to find my footing and… I see it destroy you and that's what I regret. I don't regret marring you Elliot. I don't. I just wish I'd worked on myself first so that this didn't resurface in our marriage-"
He started to tell her that it most likely would, that it was inevitable just because, but she quickly talked over him, "It probably would have, Elliot… but it wouldn't have been like this and somewhere in your heart you know that. Somewhere in there you know I'm right…don't you?"
He doesn't want to agree because, well-what did that say about him? Did he pressure her to marry him? Did he jump the gun, put her in a rough spot when she was simply too vulnerable to make a sound decision? Maybe he should be the one apologizing to her. "Liv-"
"Don't you dare think that you pressured me either, do you understand?" she said with the tiniest hint of a smirk, "You didn't. I wanted to marry you Elliot and maybe… maybe…I don't know, maybe I thought if you'd of seen me falling apart like I am now, if you saw me struggling to figure out who I was and what was happening… that maybe you wouldn't want me."
He bowed his head and she hated that she couldn't see his face while he was thinking, that she couldn't know what he was thinking just by looking at his face. "I need to know that you forgive me for not taking care of myself first," she whispered and placed her hand on his thigh, "I'm gonna get better now, Elliot. I am."
He couldn't stand it anymore and he broke and his voice shattered and he was back to square one in the truck with her, "You've said that so many times," he cried, too ashamed to raise his head, "I want to believe you… I do, but I can't. I can't believe you…I don't believe you."
She hooked her hand around his neck and rest her forehead against his, "I made appointments, Elliot. I'm going. I'm going and… I… the women there seem nice."
His hand wrapped around her waist and he cried harder unconcerned with onlookers who walked by. Really, who were hey kidding, this was New York City and no one really cared about two people crying in the park. "How do I know you won't cancel them?" he said when he'd caught his breath.
She had to smile, "You want me to sign a contract with you?" she teased and he finally looked up to see her lips in the slightest curve of a smile.
"This isn't funny!" he hissed.
She sobered instantly, "I know but-" she took a deep breath and stood, instantly retreating to the other side of the path.
Elliot leaned over and covered his red and swollen face with his hands. Just like her to leave when things turned rough. He was about to stand and yell at her from his position, he was about to tell her that he'd had enough and she could do whatever the hell she wanted just so long as it didn't include him, when he watched her exchange cash with the sketcher on the bench for his pencil and a piece of paper.
She'd returned to sitting quickly and writing on the paper frantically, "I know this isn't funny. I know that Elliot," she said as she scribbled as fast as possible, concerned that he was beginning to loose his patience with her.
"What are you writing?" he asked, irritation coating his words no matter how hard he tried to mask it.
She stayed silent as her hand moved faster than he'd seen from her and then she was suddenly done and her pencil was down. She exhaled like she'd just finished a college entrance exam and she's not so sure she did well. "Here," she said and unceremoniously held the paper between them, "Take it."
He furrowed his brows and slowly took the sheet of sketch paper into his own, "What is it?" he asked and she remained silent, allowing him to read it for himself.
She watched his blue eyes move slowly from side to side as he read the sloppy cursive that she'd written. But beyond the sloppy handwriting and frantic words there was something far more important and simple.
She gave a short nod, "It's… it's in writing now, so… well I signed it."
He looked up at her and his eyes were puffy and swollen and he just wanted to be there with her. To simply exist with her, "You signed it," he agreed. "It's in writing… you can't go back on this…it'll kill me if you do, Liv."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
His hands were warm against her stomach and she wanted desperately to make love to him. She didn't care that she probably wouldn't come, she just wanted to connect with him, but she also knew that she'd been sending him too many confusing signals and so tonight, after they'd put their very exhausted children to sleep, they slipped into their bed and into one another's arms and they held on tight like they were in a storm and they both knew that on some level, they were. Or maybe, maybe they'd just gotten out of the storm and they were still holding on out of reflex. Maybe, maybe today marked a new beginning for them. One of healing and hope and forward movement. Maybe in the storm this was a silver lining just as Abel was starting to be.
"The boys were toast," Elliot said softly.
She smiled against his chest, "Bowling wore them out and Hannah was just as tired."
Silence fills the room once again and he finds it almost humorous that he's lying next to his wife with the beginnings of an erection and if he's reading her right, she's craving him but neither one of them are taking the bait because they've just been through emotional hell and back and neither one of them could probably make it through the act of making love right now.
"Olivia?"
She kissed his naked chest softly, "Yeah?"
"I love you," he tells her quietly.
She looks up at him and her lips are so light against his that he pulls her closer, hoping to feel more of her lips and instead feels his erection graze her hip. Neither of them give into the sensation and instead focus on just being there with one another. "I'm gonna get better," she assures him again with more determination seeping into her voice by the moment.
He brushes his lips against hers just as lightly as she did moments before and whispers, "I believe you."
She wondered momentarily if he's saying that to convince himself but she's choosing to believe otherwise. The day has been rough but she's safe now. She knows he'll have questions tomorrow, she knows she'll have a busy house tomorrow but what she knows is that today she has made a promise to him to at least try. She let her eyes close slowly as he pulled her closer to his body.
She can feel his erection against her, she can hear his heart beating in her ear and she can smell his cologne as he holds her. He stroked her hair gently for long moments as his steady breathing lulled her into sleep, and just before she surrendered to her exhaustion she vaguely feels his lips against her hair as his hand skims the skin of her abdomen, "I forgive you, Olivia."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
She'd jerked awake, not from a nightmare or sensing the absence of her husband but from hearing the tender fussing of Abel from just beyond their bed. Elliot stirred and began to sit up to tend to him and she gently placed her hand on his shoulder as she kneeled on the bed. "Lemme get him," she said softly, kissing his neck and gently leaning him back to his pillow.
"He's hungry," Elliot murmured and snuggled into his pillow, "want me to fix his bottle?" he said groggily and rolled to his side.
She smiled and bit her bottom lip as she stood up and peered over the crib, "No, no it's okay. Get some sleep, El," she whispered and gently picked Abel up, pulling him close to her body and walking out of the room to calm him.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The house felt right. It did and the only thing alarming about that was that if it felt right, right now then somewhere along the way… it must have been wrong. He can hear his son crying and his wife cooing him as she changed his diaper in the other room. He can hear this and it caused him to smile into his pillow because somehow… somehow it was just right.
But how long had it been wrong, then?
He finally opens his eyes in the moonlit room and he thinks back to when he himself was a child in this house. Was it right then? He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly against his pillow. No. No it wasn't right then, either. So when was it right? When did his house feel right? When did it feel this welcoming and beautiful? He thought back to the first time Olivia lay under his thrusting body and he smiled but even then, it wasn't right. It was amazing and safe and something he'll always remember, but it wasn't what he was feeling right now.
He rolled to his back, his son still fussing with his wife in the other room and he simply listened to her voice. As much as she was afraid of Abel, her voice was confident as she cooed him and sang to him and this caused Elliot to grin because maybe his wife was part of the equation to make his house feel right. Maybe.
Maybe she'd finally found her footing and that's what has set everything into perfection. He takes this into consideration and rolled to his side, reaching into his nightstand and taking his journal out. He turned on the light and opened it to the folded piece of paper that his wife had given him only hours ago.
He'd been surprised when she handed it to him but, it was the most amazing declaration she'd made.
Elliot, this is my contract to you:
I promise to attend all of my sessions and will not cancel without discussing it with you first.
I promise to answer questions you may ask even if I don't want to answer them.
I promise to always move forward no matter how much it hurts and I promise to fight like hell all the way.
Olivia Stabler.
His feet hit the floor in one swift motion and he padded through the hall, stopping at his daughter's room to see Olivia standing over the changing table smiling down at Abel as she placed a different set of pajama's on him. His diaper must not of held up. Elliot smiled again and retreated back down the hall to the kitchen.
Frankie has already brought in tools and placed down protective plastic in their foyer. They'd been shocked when they came home to see that their entry-way closet lost a fight to a sledge hammer and is no longer present. Elliot negotiated the cool plastic against his feet and within a few short moments had Abel's formula out of the cabinet, his son's cry still heard by him.
As he mixed his son's bottle he smiled again and he couldn't help it because, damnit his house feels right. He put the bottle in the microwave and moved through the dark house to check on his sons.
Moses and Zeus immediately raise their heads as Elliot enters the large room and simply stares at the shadows as he whispers to the dogs that it's simply him entering. Moses returns her head to Sam's hip and Elliot is no longer a concern to her. Zeus finds his way to the foot of Isaac's bed and flops himself down, he's been pushed around by his three-year-old who has manage to climb into bed with his brother, snuggle as close to him as possible and sleep soundly. Elliot makes his rounds, his lips grazing the cheek of each one of his boys and he is consumed with them. He's consumed with the possibilities that each one of them represents.
Elliot can hear the microwave signaling that its work is done and so just as quietly as he's entered his sons' room, he leaves. He retrieves the bottle, adds just a touch of cold water to it and secured the cap before shaking it and testing it on his wrist.
Abel's cries are getting louder and he picks up the pace. His feet hit the cool of the plastic again and he stops. Immediately. He stares at the gaping hole in the structure of his home, stares at the marks on the ceiling that indicate there will be a large hole there come tomorrow when the rest of the remodeling crew comes in. He can see the sheet rock that has been demolished and then it hits him.
The reason why his house feels right.
It feels right because it represents them moving forward, expanding their home so that Abel can have a place in their family. It feels right because his wife is finding her way in all of this, she's clawing at life. She's destroying walls and structure that has kept her safe for years so that he can grow stronger with her. It's simple and while he stands there he thinks he'll never be able to tell her these things because they'll probably sound stupid but, tonight the house is right and he can't remember feeling this type of relief. He can't remember feeling like he could breathe again, like everything would truly be okay. He couldn't help the water that threatened to spill over from his eyes and the only thing that saved him from his third break-down in twenty-four hours was his wife's voice.
"El?" she questioned, with a crying Abel in her arms. "Elliot? Are you okay?"
His head snapped to see her and even with her brows screwed up in confusion and her bouncing to try and sooth Abel…. She was beautiful. He smiled and raised the bottle up between them, "His cry… he's hungry."
She tilted her head in confusion and looked at him with curiosity, "So… you're standing in the middle of the house, in your boxers with a goofy grin, because…?" she let her voice trail off in teasing.
He closed the gap between them and handed her the bottle with a smirk, "Take it… it's the only way your getting that boy quiet."
She accepted it and brushed the nipple against Abel's lips. He took it instantly and the space between Olivia and Elliot was quiet save his greedy suckling. She peered down at Abel and grinned, "He's just like you Elliot… grumpy when hungry."
He watched her watch his son and guess what? That felt right, too. Her slender hands held Abel securely against her and Abel's tiny hands held onto her wrist that held his bottle for him. She was smiling softly down at him and her new short crop had let him see her face so much more freely. She looked more at peace, as if simply making the decision to get better had already started her healing process. Without a word, he closed the gap between them and cupped her face in both of his hands, tipping her face to look at him.
She was confused as to his sudden demeanor because only hours ago, they were both crying against one another and she knew he'd reached his limit with her and now he was looking at her with adoration in his eyes and his hands were warm against her face and he was simply looking at her.
She couldn't take the scrutiny and she blushed, "What?"
His thumb brushed back and forth over the line of her cheek and he took a step closer careful of his son in her arms, "Nothing," he said softly, his lips slanting over hers and his eyes closing.
She felt right.
She opened her mouth to ask what was happening and he slipped his tongue past her lips. Her hands were occupied and he was almost glad for that because he just wanted to be the one to touch her, to kiss her and to hear her.
She'd opened her mouth even more, giving him full permission to deepen the kiss and she felt an instant pooling between her legs. She moaned against his mouth feeling his tongue tickle her own and when he pulled away, she moved closer, nipped at his lip to come back to her and he did. His hand moved from her cheek and slid into her short hair. The sensation had blood rocketing to his crotch and he whimpered against her.
Whimpered for the second time that day.
He pulled away, his jaw clenching so as not to devour her instantly. He swallowed and kissed her again, let his lips rest against hers and loved how soft they were. Somehow he'd forgotten that she had the softest lips. "Sit with me," he said and she smiled because it was laced in the confidence she thought she'd taken from him.
"You're being weird… I told you that you needed sleep," she said but still slipped her hand into his and let him lead her to the couch. He sat first and carefully tugged her and his son into his lap.
"He's beautiful," Elliot whispered and rested his hand on Abel's tiny abdomen as he rested in Olivia's arms.
She chuckled against Elliot and rested her forehead in the crook of his neck as she fed the tiny life, "His diaper was a disaster… nothing beautiful about it."
He smiled and closed his eyes, his lips on the crown of her head, "He looks like you and he's beautiful and you look beautiful with him."
She pulled back to look at him and smirked, "What's going on?"
He kissed her again, "Just… just thinking that this little guy is a new beginning for us Liv… he's our silver lining and… it feels right having him here."
Olivia grinned and rested her forehead against his pulse point again. She remained quiet, neither agreeing or disagreeing and he sees that as an accomplishment, as a step forward for her. He took a deep breath and held them both closer and… it felt right.