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
He gnaws on the inside of his cheek while he stares at the back of his partner's head. He swivels back and forth slightly in his desk chair, his thoughts racing and stacking and crumbling like a brick wall with no mortar. He's promised, sworn to her and himself, that he would never let anything eat away at him, not the way it did when he was married to Kathy. It's harder than it seems, especially now, when it comes to a person in his family. A person he let hang around his kids, a person who was part of his life for more than half of it. "Hey," he calls, and when her head snaps around, he tries to smile.
The expression on his face looks painful, and she sits and leans over to him. "What's wrong?" She eyes Cragen's office door for a moment, then bites her lip. "I can't talk to you about…"
"What did he do?" He runs a hand down his face, knowing he shouldn't be asking. Not here. Not now. "Come on, you can't…" he huffs and scoots closer to her. "He was my brother-in-law for a fucking decade, he used to change my kids' diapers, bathe them...I need to know if…"
She holds up a hand as her stomach clenches and flips, and she knows he can see her turn green before him. "God, I don't want to think about that, okay?" She exhales and makes sure her next words come out in a soft whisper. "Everyone involved is over eighteen, way over," she claws at her hair and squeezes her shoulder blades together. "His prints tied him to two open cases, but his DNA...ties him to six." She bites her lip and tries to look him in the eyes. "Kathy had no idea, she's upset and angry and she...God, she asked if you had any idea, if you could tell. I told her there's no way you could have or would have known."
"No, I didn't, I...I thought, yeah, he was a bit handsy with the girls at the bar, but nothing that sent up any red flags." He rounds both of his hands over his face and grunts once. "Maybe because he knew how to act around me, he knew what kind of cop I was, he knew I'd have no problem arresting his ass if it came down to it." He shakes his head and he looks over his shoulder for a moment. "And Cragen, man, first he wants me to handle everything and fucking be Kathy's great protector, the next minute he says I can't have anything to do with the case...or cases," he makes a grotesque face as he sarts his eyes to the stack of manilla folders on Fin's desk. It sickens him to know that in the pages there are accounts and descriptions of every brutally violent and despicable act his ex-brother-in-law committed. "Her parents are upper-class, religious, incredible moral and the least violent people I know," he says, and he turns to look at Olivia again. "Well, I mean, except the one time her father tried to kill me, but he just found out I got his little girl pregnant so it was justified."
Her eyes narrow more and she shakes her head as though she's not sure why he's telling her this.
"They were never overbearing or abusive, they don't have vices or addictions, unless it's suddenly criminal to be a compulsive knitter," he chuckles, "Every birthday, every holiday, we all get new hats, gloves, and scarves or blankets. I got a sweater once, but one sleeve was shorter than the other, so she…"
"Elliot," she interrupts, a small voice in the back of her mind begins to chant he misses his life with Kathy and her parents. She closes her eyes and shakes it away. When she opens them again, she sees his expression has changed. "What?"
"I'm trying to tell you...he came from the quintessential Norman Rockwell family and turned out to be a fucking psychopathic monster." He smiles at her in a way he never has before, in a way that means something powerful. "He's nothing like them, they were the perfect fucking parents, he had the perfect fucking childhood…" he licks his lips. "Baby, you are nothing like your mother, and you are nothing like that...man." He can't bring himself to call him her father. "It's not genetic, and it's clearly not dependent on upbringing, it's...choices."
Her breath hitches and something behind her eyes burns. She wonders how she ever survived in the days before she had someone in her life who believed in her more than she did herself. She doesn't understand how it could have been considered living before she made home-cooked meals for six, before she claimed a spouse and four kids on her insurance, before there was a mortgage with her name on it instead of a lease agreement. Looking at him now, she sees it all in his eyes, and she fully comprehends that it wasn't really living at all. It was existing. Barely. "Choices," she repeats in a bare whisper. She watches him nod and she understands. Their choices, the choice to let themselves go in Syracuse, the decision to let him kiss her while she was wearing his Bon Jovi tee shirt, the conscious move to dive into a marriage, a family, before even going on a date. Their choices have led them here, and though they're happier than they've ever been and more stable than the average couple is, they're starting to realize the full weight of what it's costing them. "We all make choices...some of them are just...mistakes." She bites down hard on the insides of her pressed together lips.
He raises and lowers one shoulder and he drops his gaze to his desk blotter. "We haven't made any mistakes, baby. Not when it comes to each other. I'm fucking sure of that. The choices I make, fuck, I make them with you and the kids in mind, always. It's how I know...I won't end up like my father. I won't make the choices he made. Ever."
"I know you won't," she whispers to him, and she's never wanted to throw her arms around him more than she does at this moment. She holds her breath until the urge to cry subsides, and she exhales slowly. "We, uh, we should get to work on this…" she holds up the first file she grabs, but has no idea what case it is. She tosses it to him in an attempt to refocus her energy on work before she gives Cragen more of a reason to treat them like pawns in a fatal game of chess.
He opens the folder, reads half of the first page, and closes it. "We closed this one," he says, "But, yeah, we were getting too, uh, personal there for a minute." He drags one hand down the back of his neck. "Did Warner ever call you with the results from...uh, the girl in the dumpster…" he hates that he has to say things like that on a daily basis, but he knows that he's only in trouble if he ever stops hating it.
"No," she replies, "Oh, but, uh, Barton called, looking for you," she smirks and wags her eyebrows. As she leans back in her seat, she picks up a paperclip, bends it into the shape of a heart, and flings it at him. "She wants to know if you like whipped cream."
"Only if I'm licking it off of you," he returns with a chuckle, picking up the twisted clip. He looks at it for a moment, then smiles as he slips it into his pocket. He takes a deep breath, looks up at her, and says, "I love you."
"Right back at ya," she says, suddenly straightening up and opening another file. Thankfully, it's one that belongs to a current case, and she shoots Elliot a look before she busies herself with fact-checking the statements as Cragen walks over to their paired-off desks.
"Elliot," Cragen says, sounding concerned as he looks down at him, "How's Kathy? The kids?"
Elliot squints but he answers the man. "Kathy's upset, but not devastated. Our kids…" he looks at Olivia. "Our kids are fine, none of this really affects them at all." He glances back up at Cragen. "They haven't even seen Kevin in a couple of years."
"Upset?" Cragen folds his arms. "If you need to leave, to be there for her, it's fine, we can…"
"Why would I need to leave?" Elliot scoffs and raises one brow almost to a pure point. "I'm pretty sure she's at work, or if not, uh, her boyfriend can take care of her." He chuckles. "One of her boyfriends, anyway." He rubs the side of his face where his stubble is poking through, waiting for Cragen's next move.
Cragen looks honestly surprised, both hands fly to his hip. "What? She has a boyfriend? Are you just gonna let…"
"I am gonna do my job, with my partner," he lowers his eyes menacingly and sneers, "Who also happens to be my wife." He nods once. "My ex-wife and her flavor of the week are doing whatever they're doing, and I have no intention of dropping in to see what exactly that is! So unless you got something for us, we have to…"
"Oh, uh, yeah," Cragen sighs, giving in, and he says, "Complaining vic at the Two-Seven, gave them a description, matches Garrison." He twists his lips and sheepishly looks at Olivia before he backs away and retreats into his office. "Go," he spits before he's completely inside of it.
"He just...doesn't want to accept this," Elliot slaps his open palm on the hard surface of his desk, and then he turns to Olivia. "But I know what we have to do...what will get him to back the fuck off and keep his fucking nose out of our business."
She sees the look in his eyes, what the glimmer means is obvious. It's the reason he's making her take vitamins and eat fruit, why he limits her coffee intake and why he's ordered pants with elastic waistbands off of some obscure website with Mommyhood in its name. "You...el, be honest with me," she takes a long blink. "Are you absolutely positive that's what you…"
"More than anything. Right now," he instantly makes a face and blows air through his lips, making them bubble. He says, "Well, no, not right now, like this very moment, I think Fin and Munch might not wanna watch that, but we've been trying, and if we…"
"I'm late," she interrupts. It's something she's been avoiding telling him just in case he did decide to give Cragen what he wants, and she exhales. "I was gonna tell you tonight, I thought...it could just be stress, this bullshit with Cragen and Kathy's brother, but maybe it could be…"
"Benson, Stabler," Cragen shouts from his office through the cracked open door. "Didn't I give you an order?"
Elliot glares at the oak wood as if trying to blow it up with his mind, but he stops abruptly. His stomach flips and flops and he shudders at the thought of something in the squadroom blowing up. "Come on," he says, rising. When he takes Olivia's arm to lead her out of the room, he smirks and starts to whistle. The words he'd said to his son the night before ring in his ears. "Yeah," he laughs, "Dickie'll be an amazing big brother."
"What?" She stops in front of the stairwell entrance, raises an eyebrow, and gives him a questioning smile.
He chuckles and shakes his head. "Nothing," he says, and he pushes the door open, praying their night goes by quickly. There's something he and Olivia need to do, and they can't do it soon enough.
A/N: Next, we finally get to the bottom of what's going on with Cragen.
