A/N: Learning from the tears and the mistakes, We're not perfect but we've come such a long way (Soldier - James TW)
DISCLAIMER: SVU and all related plot/characters originally belong to Dick Wolf. This story is allllllllllllllll mine. © TStabler
They're halfway through dinner when she stops eating. She doesn't even realize she's staring at him, but she can't stop herself from doing it. Her fork scrapes along the bottom of her plate, pushing steamed broccoli around, and she smiles slightly. She remembers when broccoli came out of a sauce-filled carton. There had been a time when all of her meals were delivered and she ate them alone on a lumpy couch.
She tilts her head and blinks once, her focus set on the way his jaw moves as he chews, and she notices how much more relaxed he is. She can recall days where it seemed like chewing his food was somehow tightening screws in his chin, he was always so tense. She inhales when his head turns and he grins at her as he licks his lips.
"I can feel it, ya know," he whispers as he leans over to her, and he blindly stabs his fork into a piece of roasted potato. "When you're staring at me. It's like my whole body's on fire," he tells her. He kisses her forehead and asks, "What's the issue?"
She has to smile at that, again, because it proves how in tune with each other they are, how intimately they truly know each other. "I was just…" she bites her lip. "A year ago, everything was so...different." She turns slightly, her eyes falling over every kid at the table; she laughs at how Dickie furtively drops his broccoli onto his sister's plate, how Kathleen and Maureen trade potatoes until one has all square pieces and the other has nothing but triangles, how Lizzie spends time cutting up all of her chicken before she eats. She sighs and her smile warms. "We...we were so...different."
He exhales and kisses her cheek, brushes her hair back with his large hand, and he whispers, "Nothing changes except what has to." He cups her chin, then, and turns her head. He looks into her eyes and tells her, "We had to. All of us. This...us, the kids, this house...we're happier than I think we ever thought we'd be, and it's only getting better."
"Every day," she says with a gentle nod, and she willingly returns his deeper kiss. The giggling and murmurs of playful disgust from the kids register, but she ignores it as she smirks against his lips, lets her fork clang to her plate, and loops her hands around his neck.
"Dad," Dickie speaks with a mouthful of half-chewed chicken as he rolls his eyes. "Come on, Mom, we're eating!"
Elliot laughs as he pulls back, winks at his wife, and turns to his son. Whatever had been running through Olivia's head is now turning the gears in his. He remembers when dinner was spent in silence, he used to brood and seethe while his kids attempted but failed to talk to Kathy. He remembers when he was too exhausted and complacent to enjoy the time spent with them, but now being around the table with his family fuels him to no end. He loves and lives for these moments of joy and peace between the hard cases at work. "You ready for Saturday, kiddo?" He finally eats the potato that's been hanging on the end of his fork.
Dickie smiles and nods excitedly, chomping on his buttered roll. He holds up a finger as he finishes chewing and swallows. "You're gonna be there, right? Both of you?" He looks hopeful as he glances at Olivia.
She smiles and nods. "We wouldn't miss it, sweetie," she says, and she picks up her fork and jabs it into a piece of broccoli. Since when is she a soccer mom? Since when does she set aside personal days off of work to go to first practices and first games and championships and playoffs? Since when does she create lists of healthy snacks and set reminders on her phone to buy bottled water and since when does she Google things that could get her kicked out of a game?
Another smile crosses her lips and she pops the broccoli into her mouth. Since now. Since her life became a dream and dreams of life a year ago became nightmares.
The conversation turns from Dickie's first day of soccer to Kathleen's science project and Maureen's gymnastics meet, and the laughter that fills the room also fills Elliot's heart. When his phone rings, he frowns. "Of course," he spits out as he swallows his last bite of chicken. He shuffles around in his pocket and answers the call as his kids start to rise and clear the table. "Stabler," he says, and he drags a hand down the front of his Rolling Stones tee shirt.
Olivia watches as he gets up and walks away, talking on the phone on his way into their bedroom. She sighs as she stands, assuming she has to follow, assuming they have to change back into stuffy suits and head off to work. "Thanks, guys," she says, almost dejectedly, offering the kids a half-smile as they wipe down the table.
"No problem, Mommy," Lizzie says brightly, and she has no idea how happy it makes Olivia, what sorts of feelings a simple sentence stirs in her. "Do you and Daddy have to go to work, now?" She pushes her glasses up on her nose and sniffles once.
Olivia's heart hurts as she bites her lip. "I don't know, sweet pea," she almost whispers, and she slips a hand through Maureen's long hair before she turns and heads into the bedroom. She doesn't knock, she knows she doesn't have to, and she starts to ask him what they're walking into, but the look on his face makes her stop.
It's an expression she's never seen before, not in person. It's what she's always imagined he looked like when his father died, or when one of his Marine buddies lost the battle raging on long after they came home. His eyes are dark but vacant, his chin is jutted out slightly farther than usual, it's clear his jaw is clenched by the way the veins in his neck throb. His complexion matches the walls, a shade of pale green that had to be customized for them when he bought the house. He'd used a photo of their op house in Syracuse, demanding that the man nail the color exactly.
"What happened?" Her voice is barely above a whisper and her hands fly on their own toward his shoulders. She squeezes and rolls the heels of her hands into his body as she searches his eyes for some sign of life. She feels him lean into her, sees his eyes roll slightly, and she hears him give an affirmative groan into the phone. She moves again, rubbing her way down his back. "Baby, what's wrong?" she whispers a bit louder, and she prays he tells her because she refuses to let this be the start of ending up like Kathy.
He shakes his head, cups the end of his phone, and looks at her. Instantly, the color returns to his cheeks and the tension in his jaw slacks. She calms him, so effortlessly. He leans over and kisses her forehead, his eyes close, and he says, "It's Cragen."
"I thought it was, but obviously this isn't about work. What's he saying?" Her fingers lace with his. "You looked...for a second there, you looked...sick."
He nods and he gives Cragen another noncommittal grunt before covering the speakers again. "He just…" something Cragen says pulls his attention again, and he turns away from Olivia. "I know I can't, I wouldn't anyway. No, Cap, you know I'm not going over there right now! My wife and kids are...Olivia! Who the hell did you think...I shouldn't be the one talking to her! Send Fin! It's his case! What do you mean, it would be a lot better coming from me? The only time I talk to her is when the kids...no, not since the divorce...and when we used her to bag Porter...I owe it to her? Are you out of your mind?"
"Kathy," Olivia's voice breaks breathlessly. "Oh, God, what…" she sees Elliot's hand shoot up, palm out, and she takes a breath. She watches in worried panic as Elliot hangs up the phone and rubs his hand over his forehead. In her eyes, he's moving in slow motion; she can see the static sparks shoot up from his socked feet as he moves against the carpet. "Hey, what..." she stops when he glares at her. No. Not at her. Beyond her. Over her head.
His left fist balls up tightly and his chest rises and falls, he's readying himself to punch something and he's trying desperately to calm down before he does it because it's a brand new fucking house and they can't afford to repair anything right now. "Fuck," he hisses, and he aims a hard uppercut at absolutely nothing, his fist flying aimlessly through the air.
She runs to him, and the moment her hands hit his hot skin his body surrenders to her. She catches him as he jerks forward and she lets him hold her in silence for a while. When they start swaying, she's sure he's calm, and she pushes him back slightly. "What happened to Kathy?" She's not surprised at how worried she is, but she can tell by the look in Elliot's eyes that's he's a bit stunned by it.
He kisses her softly, her compassion driving him to her at the moment. "Nothing," he says, and he inhales once. He grabs her hand and walks her to the bedroom door. "Not...it's not her. It's her brother. Fin and Munch...they got a call, anonymous tip pointing the finger at Kevin for two of our open cases. Since we weren't there, they ran with it. They checked him out, he didn't have an alibi, his fingerprints were at both girls' apartments and they fucking...arrested him." He scraped his nails down the back of his neck and dropped his head to hers. "How the hell do you do this?"
"Same way you do," she shrugs. She lets one hand dangle limply over his shoulder while the other smooths out her purple cotton tee. "Training, separating the personal from the…"
He laughs and kisses her lips. "Not the job, baby," he runs his lips lightly over hers. "How do you calm me down the way you do? The way you always have?" He can tell by the question mark now etched into her face that she doesn't know at all. "It used to be just at work...a heated interrogation, the moment before I went too far, I'd look at you and all of a sudden I wasn't as angry. I realized something. Whenever I got out of control, times when I lost it completely...we were apart for some reason, you weren't right there with me." He kisses her again and his fingers dance down to her hips. He hooks his thumbs over the elastic waist of her leggings and he pulls her closer to him. "And before that...a little over four years ago…" he pauses to wink at her and slips his left hand between her pants and her skin, palming over her ass. "No one could get me to calm down at all, and there were a lot more…" he chuckles. "Um, incidents of excessive force...violent outbursts, coercion, I was on probation three times, and since you...not once."
She smiles at him and then jerks a bit with a small yelp when the cold metal of his ring touches her skin. She laughs as he pulls her closer, tighter. "Well, like you always say...I have a calming presence. Guess it's not just with victims." She tilts her head and drags her fingernails down the front of his chest. "It's because I love you, you idiot," she teases, and one hand trails up to the back of his head.
"I love you," he says and he kisses her again. "I remember," he squints, "Cragen had it with me, I was just coming off of a suspension and slammed some pissant's head into the table when he refused to answer a question." He licks his lips and his head waves back and forth. "I was so lost, back then, Liv. I was so close...to losing everything…" he blinks once. "Then you came along and you...God, you saved my life." He kisses her once again, this time it's deeper, his other hand works into her pants and grips her ass hard enough to lift her up, and he lets out a muffled laugh when she wraps her legs around his waist.
She leans back when she needs to breathe, keeping her head pressed to his, and as she's panting, she asks, "Why did he call you?"
He narrows his eyes. His chest rises and falls quickly, hitting into and against hers. "Because Kathy's brother was just…"
"He knows you can't work the case," she speaks, "And if it was just a courtesy call, he wouldn't have called you. Kathy's your ex-wife, you wouldn't have even been on the log for this, and Fin would've just called Kathy or her parents."
There's a moment of silent frustration, his entire body twitches and it makes them both seethe because his hardened dick rubs against her pressing heat. She's right, he realizes, and then he spits out a vulgar cuss that he's glad his kids can't hear. He drops Olivia lightly to the ground and scrapes his hands down his face. "He's never gonna fucking stop playing with us." He huffs and puts his hands on his hips. "What, he thought I'd leave you here alone and fucking take the kids and run to Kathy?" He narrows his eyes and scoffs. "That's exactly what he was trying to get me to do."
"I heard," she says to him. "And I heard you tell him you had no intention of doing it." She kisses him, runs her thumbs under his eyes, and she says, "I'll call Fin and get an update on this, and then I will go talk to Kathy. You stay with the kids, watch one of those stupid talking dog movies they love so much." She kisses him again, then moves to leave the room, but something he says makes her stop and turn and smile. "I love you, too," she says, and she heads out.
He follows her, watches her kiss each kid on the forehead, and then she puts her coat on, grabs her phone and keys, and leaves the house.
"Where's Mom going?" Dickie asks, his little eyes blinking up at his father. "Is she going to work without you?" There's a worry in his innocent features.
"No, of course not, buddy. She'll be back in a little while," he says, and he drops onto the couch fitting in the space between the twins. He pulls the remote out of Lizzie's hand, earning an offended gasp, and he laughs as he flips the stations until it lands on a familiar channel. He hears all four of his kids cheer and clap, and he braces himself as they clamor to sit on his lap. He grunts and chuckles, wondering how four kids expect to sit on two knees, but once they're settled, he sighs and smiles.
Nothing anyone could ever do would make him run out on his family, destroy the life he fought so hard to build for himself, his kids, and Olivia. He bites the inside of his cheek, ignoring the talking dog on the TV, as he loses himself in thought. Slowly, he smirks, and he kisses the side of his son's head.
He gives a content sigh when Dickie drops back into him, and he whispers, "You're gonna be such a great big brother." It goes unheard by the boy, but as he sits back against the couch, he knows it's the absolute truth. He just doesn't know how soon he'll find it out first-hand.
A/N: What happened with Kathy's brother? What is Cragen trying to pull?
