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
"Why," her voice is soft, concerned, slightly pissed off, and she looks at Elliot with narrow brows and crossed arms. "Why the fuck would he go after her?"
"Same reason he went after Kathy," Elliot says just as softly. "We knew, uh, we knew he was going to do it, we just thought...he was trying to hurt me, but maybe…" he clears his throat and sighs, runs his hands up and down the sleeves of his jacket. "Maybe he knows he lost, but he's got very real feelings for you, he wants you to be happy, so he's…"
"Attacking the women he thinks could…" she pauses, her eyes close and she shivers at the thought as the words form on her tongue, the thought makes her even more sick to her stomach that she already had been. "Could break us up. Anyone you, uh, you could leave me for," she suppresses a gag as she cringes, the way the words leave her mouth reminds her of a time when she believed them.
"Hey, hey," he sees the look in her eyes as he gently grabs her chin and turns her head. "Never gonna happen," he whispers to her. "There's no one...no one that could ever tear us apart, you know that. There never has been, there never will be," he says, and there's a severity in his voice that he's never used for reasons that weren't violent.
She nods as she sniffles, wipes her eyes with the heels of her hands, shrugs and says, "Hormones," which is her God-given excuse for everything now. She inhales sharply and blows out a hot breath through an open mouth. "What did Cragen say?"
"He's sending Fin and Munch to the city offices, they're gonna talk to Porter's old partner and boss, try to get the truth out of them." He blinks and looks around the stark and quiet hallway. He licks his lips and gnashes his teeth down on his bottom one. "He Talked to Tucker, uh, there's no record of Porter being signed into Rikers at all, and the guys who were in charge of transport were given an assignment change, handed the pick-up off to the feds."
"So we were right," she scoffs, and she turns slightly to look into Barton's room, "He's still on the job."
"And part of that job is keeping us on a leash," he tells her, nodding. "What, uh, what did Barton say to you?"
"Oh, she said she hopes this won't make you think less of her," she says dryly. "And that you won't think of her like a victim or think she's fragile, now. She wants me to assure you that she's perfectly fine and this won't affect her ability to have sex with you." She raises both hands and tilts her head. "Her words, not mine." She shoves her hands into her pockets and smirks. "I told her I would relay the message but that she needed to know the truth before she embarrassed herself, I told her...you're happily married." She eyes him for a moment. "To me. And that we're having a baby, so clearly you're completely satisfied with your sex life." She chuckles and says, "She turned a beautiful shade of green, then made a noise I don't think I've ever heard before."
He laughs and moves to answer his ringing phone. "Great, but I meant, what did she tell you about her attack," he rolls his eyes and answers the call with a too-chipper sounding, "Stabler."
She watches him closely, reading his expression as he listens to the caller, and immediately she knows who it is. She lunges, but Elliot keeps her at bay. His slight height advantage proves useful once in a while. She makes a frustrated grunting noise, but she shouts, knowing the man on the phone can hear her. "You son of a bitch, you didn't have to attack an innocent woman to…"
He covers her mouth with a strong hand, and something about the way she struggles against his hold is so fucking cute, he almost forgets what's happening on the line. "Your reasons don't matter, motherfucker," his low, cool voice has a hint of threat in it. "Someone's already on your ass, and it isn't us." He hangs up, exhales, and looks down at Olivia. He raises an eyebrow at her.
Relenting, she gives another grunt and stops moving. She raises one brow and folds her arms, and she waits until he pulls his hand away from her face. "Should've let me fucking…"
"Not in the middle of the emergency room, huh?" he chides, and he says, "He was asking us to let him go, that he was only...helping you." He drops his phone back into his pocket. "Liv, he, uh, he wanted to frame me for this, too. He knew Barton had the hots for me, he wanted to make it look like I…"
"What the fuck?" she snaps, "I'm so fucking confused. Does he want…"
"When he found out that you're pregnant, that it's mine, he changed the plan." He looks into her eyes, wraps his hands around her wrists, and he says, "Once he had proof that this wasn't just us taking work home with us, or my way of getting even with Kathy, he stopped trying to rip me away from you and started trying to make sure...that no one else would."
Olivia's eyes flicker. "He was trying to come between us until he realized it was impossible," she says, and she twists her wrists and grabs his hands. "And now he's trying to keep it that way." She runs her hands over her stomach, her fingers grasp the hem of her blue tee. There's so much more at stake now, so much she'd never have, and thinking about it makes her wonder if she should kill Dean Porter or thank him. "Why was he trying to take Cragen down, if this has been about us the whole time?"
"In the beginning, it was because he didn't play hardball with the feds, we had to go over his head," he says, "And then it was because he didn't push harder to get the details from us…" he pauses, he licks his lips, "Then he was trying to get him pulled from the unit because he wasn't taking any kind of action against us for…" he reaches for her hand, grabs it, and squeezes it. "For this. Now, though, it's, uh...it's so he won't do anything to us, and our kids, and this...this beautiful…" His voice breaks as he moves his other hand. His fingers tremble as he holds out a palm and places it over her stomach. He shakes his head, there's a noticeable shift in his demeanor as his eyes darken and his jaw tightens. "Take her statement, grab the kits, take the Ford," he shoves his left hand into his pants pocket and fishes out the car keys. He slaps them into her open palm. "I will meet you back at the station. Stay there...until I get there, you hear me?"
"What? Where the fuck...what the hell are you doing?" Her eyes are wide and if she didn't have keys in her hand she would've slapped some sense into him as he pulled away from her.
He's halfway down the hall, but he yells to her. "What I should've done in Syracuse!" He takes a few more steps. "I love you!"
"Elliot! What the fuck are you doing?" she yells back, but he ignores her as he takes off running, down the hall and around the corner, and she's never felt like throwing up more than she does right now.
She bites her lip and looks down at her hand. She jingles the keys as his words resonate. What I should've done in Syracuse. Her mind races, she tries to remember, tries to think. What the hell could he mean by that? When the fuck was he alone with Porter in Syracuse? Suddenly it dawns on her, and she's not sure if she's recalling actual events or part of a dream.
It'd been well after midnight, she'd taken a shower and something to relieve the killer headache that having to drink so much red wine had given her. She'd put on a pair of Elliot's sweats and her tank top, crawled into bed and closed her eyes, which is why she'd remembered it as a dream.
She'd heard their conversation. Dean's irritated and accusatory voice asked Don't you think you're overdoing it? You're supposed to be a couple of stockbrokers, not porn stars. She'd heard the way Elliot chuckled and said Hey, I can't help it, we have chemistry. Her heart thumps harder, faster, as the memory plays clearly in her mind, and she hears Dean's voice almost as if he's right beside her. You know this is all pretend, right? She's not really in love with you, she's acting, I mean, you get that, don't you?
Do I? Elliot had retorted, and she can imagine the grin that must have been on his face.
She remembers hearing Porter give a bitter laugh as he sneered back at Elliot. She's not the type to fall in love, Stabler. Besides, don't you have a wife waiting at home for you?
You have no idea how fucking wrong you are! She's completely capable of falling in love, she'd heard Elliot say, and now she knows why he ignored the crack about Kathy. She loves...so completely, so fucking deeply...just didn't love you. She never loved you. That's what kills you. You're jealous, you have been for years, even when you were…
Jealous? Me? Of you? She'd listened as Porter gave an exaggerated laugh, his tell. You wish, Stabler. Trust me, I'm not. You can try all you want, you know. She's not gonna fuck you, not here, not now, so stop fucking trying to get laid and fucking start following my orders before you jeopardize this case! She cringes as Elliot's reply rings in her ears almost as loudly as he'd yelled it to Porter a year ago. We aren't gonna jeopardize the case, and I wouldn't take your orders if I worked at fucking Burger King...ya know what, you need to leave, before I say something...before I do something I'm gonna regret. Well, I wouldn't regret it, but… just get the fuck out.
"Detective Benson?" a nurse's voice calls. "She's all set, you can go in and see her now."
Olivia blinks a few times, snapping herself back into reality, back into the moment, and she mumbles a muffled curse under her breath as she turns and heads into Barton's room to take her official statement, thoughts of her partner, her husband, knocking at the back of her mind.
An hour later, she strolls into the station and looks around hopefully, expectantly, and when she's met with nothing but the concerned faces of the unit, she caves. She heaves a dejected sigh and throws the keys to the Ford onto Elliot's cluttered desk. She takes off her blazer, rolling her eyes at the way Munch smirks at her NYPD tee shirt. She drops into her desk and rakes her nails through her hair, the framed photo on her desk catching her eyes. She smiles as she reaches for the phone on her desk, leaving her cell free in case Elliot calls, and she dials her mother's number.
Fin listens with one ear, grinning at the sweet conversation, mentally taking note of it since it's one of the few times he's heard her talk to her mother without crying or yelling. His eavesdropping is cut short when his desk phone rings, and he answers it with a heavy breath. "Special Victims, this is Detective...hey, man, what's up?" He shoots a glance at Olivia as he snaps his fingers. It catches her attention and he points excitedly to the phone. "Uh, yeah, she's here, you want to...okay, okay, slow down, I ain't fuckin' Siri, I gotta actually write shit down!" He reaches for a pen and watches Olivia hang up her call with her mother. "One-twenty-five what?"
"Newport Drive," Olivia says, her eyes widen as she reaches for the phone. She rips it out of Fin's hand and brings it to her ear, ignoring the fact that the cord has tangled Fin in its tail. "What the hell are you doing all the way up in fucking...well, then who is...oh. Oh, my God, where are you?" She walks as far as she can with the receiver, then expertly stretches on leg and lunges until she can reach the thrown away keys and her jacket. "Stay there, I will be right there, okay, we...I love you, too." She throws the phone to Fin who glares at her as he catches it.
"Okay." Munch peers at her as he gets out of his seat. "Wherever you're going, you're not going alone."
"I'm going to the federal building," she says as she pulls on her blazer. "To get Elliot."
"And then?" Munch narrows his bespectacled eyes as he slips his bony arms into his long, black trench coat.
She exhales as she fidgets with the keys. "And then...we're going to Syracuse."
A/N: Gasp! Why? What?
