A/N: A .44 full of bullets. Face full of pale. Eyes full of empty. A stare full of nails. (Rage Against the Machine) For the sake of this story, the timelines of some cases and details have been altered.

DISCLAIMER: SVU and all related plot/characters originally belong to Dick Wolf. This story, words, and dialogue are mine. © TStabler

Her fingers tap the keyboard almost as if they're bugs, crunching and dying beneath her heavy-falling fingertips. She mumbles under her breath as she hits send, the request for new mattresses in the squad's bunkroom now on its way to HR. She rolls her neck, the pain and tension crackling like bubble-wrap. "Fucking hell," she mutters, and then she grins at the man in the desk directly across from her. It's not all the mattress's fault, she knows it.

His head pops up, as though he can feel her staring at him, and his eyes narrow back at hers. "Yes?"

The way his left eyebrow arches turns her on, the smirk playing at his lips makes her body throb. "Yes," she says with a single nod. She tilts her chin up and swerves her lips into a lopsided line. "Or should I say, ita, ego autem." She waits and when his right brow moves to meet the other, she knows he's understood. She gives him a sly grin as her head drops just a bit, her eye still on his.

"You...yeah?" He bites his lip and he exhales. "Okay, so, uh...well, we need to get more of your stuff anyway, so I'll drive you back to your place after work, and we will...um…"

"Yeah, we will," she says, but she isn't looking at him anymore, she's reading the report that's been idling on her desk for twenty minutes. She clears her throat and rubs her lips together for a moment, and then she speaks. "Cragen say anything to you?"

"No, not since we came back down here," he returns, and he looks over his shoulder at the captain's closed door. "I think he's a smart enough man to know nothing he says matters right now." One hand drags down his face, the other drives over his head and through his hair. "And don't fucking apologize again, this isn't your fault."

She squints and sits up straight, something in the file striking her. "I'm not," she says, "Here, read this." She reaches over to him, file in hand, and points to the line of type he needs to focus on. When his eyes pop, she hums. "Right?"

He's on his feet in seconds, moving fast to grab their jackets and the keys to the sedan off of the hook on his locker. "Not exactly why I hoped we'd be going back there," he says with a hint of lust in his voice. He holds open her leather jacket for her, trying not to moan at the way it crinkles against her as she moves.

She flips her hair out of the collar, nodding her thanks, and says, "Me either." She follows him out of the squadroom, no more eager to go back to The Labyrinth under these conditions than he is.

Cragen's waiting for them when they get back, leaning against Elliot's desk with folded arms. He watches the two detectives freeze as soon as they walk into the room, and he stares them both down for a moment. "Get anything?" he asks, directing the question toward Olivia, knowing Elliot wouldn't answer him.

Olivia nods as she takes a sip of her coffee. "She worked at a place called The Labyrinth, she was one of their, um...Mistresses," she says, and she tries like hell to keep her cheeks from burning red. "We got a list of her private clients."

Cragebn's brows knit together. "You're telling e Norm Southerland's daughter was a hooker who let her Johns make house calls?"

"No," Elliot hisses, shaking his head. "We're telling you she was a sex therapist specializing in fetishism. She had a handful of clients who didn't like going to the club to see her." He shakes his head. "She met with them at her place, one of them probably…"

"And her father?" Cragen interrupts, he isn't concerned with the moral integrity of their victim, at the moment. "Either of you talk to the guys from Homicide?"

Again, Olivia nods. "Paul…" she senses Elliot's fury and bites the inside of her cheek. "Falsone said they found two slugs, nine millimeter, pretty distinctive markings on them. Tyler told me our girl's wound is consistent with a nine mil, so right now...same bullets, same perp." She takes another sip of her coffee then drops the cup to her desk. "What's up?" she puts her hands on her hips. "You're never out here waiting for us unless something…"

"I need to talk to you," Cragen stops her speaking and points to Elliot. "I'm giving you the choice, I can say what I have to say in front of Olivia, or we can talk alone. Either way, it needs to be said, now." He lifts the finger from a point to a plea for silence as he says, "You were right, you needed the truth, years ago, and I should have told you everything." He shrugs. "I'm not the bad guy, here, and I need to lay it all out for you."

Elliot feels the heat rising, and he turns to Olivia to ask her to stay with him, but as he opens her mouth, her phone rings. He watches, irritated, as she swipes her screen to answer the call. He focuses on her lips, the way they press together just a bit as she says her last name, the way she licks them as she listens to the person speaking. He shuts his eyes and swallows, knowing that if he lets himself go too far he'll regret it. "What?" he asks her, but it comes out almost angry, his mixed emotions fighting for control of his voice, for control of everything.

She looks at him apologetically and then darts her eyes toward Cragen. "Bayliss and his guys were dumpster diving for the gun and found the, uh, the missing table from our crime scene." She flicks the hair out of her eyes with one finger, still holding her phone with the other four. "If what you have to say to him can wait, we have to…"

"It can't," Cragen says firmly. He stands up a bit straighter and shoves his hands in his pockets while he lowers his gaze and flattens his lips into a line so straight it seems inhuman. "Is this something you can handle yourself?"

The way he looks at her scares her. She presses her mouth shut, nods once, and then gives Elliot another desperate look of I'm sorry and she backs away slowly, only turning from him right before she leaves the room.

Elliot feels his heart sink into his stomach, her ass fades from view along with the only hope he has of staying calm during whatever speech Cragen's going to spout at him. He drags a hand down his face and sighs as he turns to his captain. "Choice made," he grunts, thrusting a hand toward the office door in the corner of the room. He follows Cragen, with every step he feels a surge of electricity run through his veins like cold blood. He takes a deep breath as he walks into the office, for the first time noticing how small it is, and he drops into the closest chair to him. "Talk," he bites, and his hands curl around the rounded arms of the chair.

Cragen's shoes fall against the floor with heavy clicks as he moves into place, in front of Elliot, and leans back against the large desk. "Now, I'm not gonna ask how the hell you found out anything about those trials, those records were sealed." He huffs and he licks his chapping lips. "I am, however, going to tell you that those records...don't tell the whole story." He closes his eyes and squeezes the bridge of his nose. "The same assholes that went after your father came after me. I wasn't under investigation, but when they found out I was selected for the review board, Christ Almighty, Elliot, they threatened me the same way they threatened him."

"Guess my father had bigger balls," Elliot throws back at him with a scoff, sinking deeper into the chair. "Sorry," he cringes, clears his throat. "Go on."

"They told me if I didn't hand down liability votes for every cop on the block, they'd…" he sighs. "I had Marge to think about, the family we...we were trying to have a baby." He shudders with the refusal to cry, and then he expels an aggravated breath. "Your father, contrary to what you want to believe, wasn't the best or brightest of his time. He did the job, the job became his life, and he started screwing up...the way you do. You have his temper, and you may not take it out on your kids the way Joe did, thank God, but for crying out loud…" he shakes his head, rolls his tongue around in his mouth for a moment, and he inhales before speaking again. "He wasn't one of the crooked bastards, but he did his share of rule-breaking."

Elliot stiffens, his eyes shut. He says nothing.

"He was stubborn, like you. He went from zero to sixty in seven seconds, like you. He disregarded orders, had a problem with authority, refused to back off when he was putting himself and his partner in danger, who the fuck does that sound like, Stabler?" He sees the way Eliot flinches at his words. "You may not be the abusive son of a bitch he was, I don't see you as the kinda guy who'd run around on your wife the way he did to your poor mother, and I hope to God that you don't…" he tilts his head. "You've never cheated on Kathy, have you?"

Elliot bites his lip. His eyes squeeze shut hard and then open slowly as he turns his head and licks his lips. "Kathy, uh...she left me." He shrugs and laughs bitterly, the irony in the situation not lost on him. "Doesn't really matter who I sleep with, now, does it?"

"Oh, Elliot, I…" Cragen blows out hard through an open mouth and drops into the chair next to Elliot. "I'm sorry."

Shaking his head, Elliot frowns a bit. "Don't be. I'm not. The kids aren't. All we did was fight, and when we weren't fighting we were ignoring each other. I don't know which was worse."

Cragen swallows again, his hand moves and despite his annoyance at the younger man, he drops it onto his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he says again, and he gives Elliot's shoulder a squeeze. He lets his hand fall away and then slowly hunches over and rests his elbows on his knees. "My point, here...I see a lot of Joe in you. I do." He twists and holds out both palms, knowing Elliot hates the comparison. "But I also see how different you are. When you pull the shit he used to pull, it's because you're fighting for the vic or trying to nail the perp. He did it to prove he was right, no matter who it hurt or what it cost." He sighed again. "I get on you because I don't want you to lose sight of what makes you a great cop...the way he did," he almost whispers. "I had my reasons for voting him out, but Elliot, he was on his way to a ruined career anyway."

"You think I would?" Elliot's voice is dark, he sits up a bit straighter. "What do you mean, he would have been fired anyway?" He furrows his brow and looks fully at Cragen. "What the hell did he do?"

Cragen sees the desperation in his eyes, and deeper beneath he sees the pain of being haunted by the memory of his father. "He was in the middle of an official IAB inquisition. He was accused of coercing a suspect into a confession, the guy was killed in lockup waiting for arraignment. And then...evidence came to light that proved he didn't do it." He slaps Eliot on the back and says, "Your father didn't want to admit he had the wrong guy, threatened him nonstop for over an hour, kept him in the box all night, had him in tears." He folds his hands and shakes his head. "When I see you in the box, pulling the same shit, Elliot...I have to come down hard on you because what if it's not the guy?" He blinks and says, "I will not let you throw away what has been an incredible career because you make the same mistake he did."

"It wouldn't be the wrong guy," Elliot says, but then he remembers. There've been moments in his life when he had the wrong guy in the chair, when he started in on the threats and the violence and then got the call in the nick of time to let him go. "Not...not now."

"You mean, not with Liv," Cragen gives him a small, knowing smirk. "She keeps you in check, when she can, but Elliot, I gotta tell ya, there are times when she can't get through to you right away, and I do not want to have to force her to haul you in on charges if she pulls you off of someone too late, or God forbid, you turn your anger on her." He sees the horror on Elliot's face, the emotion shifts in his eyes. "Look me in the eyes and tell me your father never hit your mother."

Elliot's eyes narrow instantly. "I already told you, I have never and would never…"

"You have never hit your kids, save for once," Cragen interrupts. He pulls lightly on his black tie. "You never hit your wife. But Liv? She's your partner. She gives you everything you give her at work, she's just as tough, just as stubborn, you turn on her because you think she can take it...Stabler, she is not like the other partners you've had. Even Marlowe, you ignored her half the time, did a lot of shit on your own because you always said she didn't have the balls or the brains for the job, and she quit because of you!"

"She quit because she couldn't fucking get in my pants!" Elliot yells back, shaking his head. "And she didn't have the balls or the brains, Cap, you know it! She blew three cases in a row because she refused to even see anyone else's side of things. She yelled at a victim while we were still in the fucking ambulance!"

Cragen stands up, turns, and looks down at Elliot. "Are you done?" he asks, almost chastising him the way a father would a child. "I know she wasn't cut out for this, but you weren't doing her any favors." He clenches his jaw and says, "I won't let you be the reason we lose the best cop we've had since...well, since you." He lowers his voice. "You two work, like you said this morning, better than anyone. Don't let your lack of self-control fuck that up."

Elliot nods as he drags his teeth along his lower lip. "I'm...working on it."

"Call your partner, do your job, and don't give me a reason to do what Captain Montgomery couldn't." He wonders how long Eliott will take him talking down to him, and he chuckles to himself when the younger man shifts to rise. He knows Elliot so well.

"What's that?" Elliot stands, almost daring Cragen to say his next words.

Cragen eyes him for a moment. "Mandatory anger management, suspension if you refuse, and beyond that...I won't be able to help you." He leans into Elliot and says, "I know you're not exactly like him, Stabler. I see it. But I do know how to read the warning signs. I am not prepared to lose you to the same shit that took down your father."

Elliot shakes his head and when he speaks his voice matches the volume and tone of his captain's. "I swore to myself...that I would be a better cop, a better father, and a better man than my father ever was." He sneers slightly, his nostrils flare. "I promised myself, my kids, and my…" he licks his lips as the word forms in the back of his throat but it doesn't crawl up to be heard. "I promised Liv," he says in a whisper. He blinks once. "I refuse to break any promise I make to her, or to my kids."

"Good," Cragen says, and he nods at the door. "Go out there and prove it."

Elliot doesn't even nod, he just offers a stern expression as he walks out of the office. He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and fires a quick text to Olivia. He's too pissed to wait for her, it's too late to meet her wherever she is, so he simply tells her where he's gonna be when she gets back.

In the gym.

Fighting his demons.

A/N: Next: What happens when Olivia gets back? We have her answer, but what was the question?