Hours had passed since their initial talk; dinner, cookies, a movie. The three had settled into a sense of familiarity. It was as if they had always been this way. Noah was between the adults; Elliot's arm protectively rested behind. This is all he wanted. Her. Them.

After a bit of persuasion, Noah agreed to go to bed - if Elliot would help with their nightly routine. He obliged. They opted to read on the couch, so there'd be enough room for everyone. Knowing that he was being accepted into something that was theirs meant a lot. He didn't want to invade their space, yet he also wanted to be involved.

Nearly halfway through the story, he leaned into Elliot - feet on his mother's lap. The former partners exchanged a glance; one of many silent moments that said more than they ever could. His fingers ran through the boy's curls, coaxing him to relax. The hum of Olivia's voice nearly put him to sleep, too. For the first time in weeks, he was at ease - this was where he was meant to be.

He must've dozed off; she gently nudged him so he'd wake. He didn't startle.

—

The pair sat at the countertop, two mugs in front of them. He opened his mouth to speak. She read his mind. "You, know… Elliot. I can't. Not tonight." She didn't want to 'ruin' what they had created; he needed a break, the conversation would be too heavy. Not now, she told herself. With time.

"Okay." He agreed, at least for now. He decided to push it to the back of his mind; if that's what she needed, it's what he needed too. Time. Another message they'd conveyed without words.

"I really like Noah…" He began, "You've done an amazing job with him."

Bringing the cup to his lips, he sipped at the hot liquid. "Who would've thought I'd ever drink this either." All he could do was chuckle - so much had changed, and not all of it was bad. Here he was, drinking her floral tea at nearly 11 PM while her son slept in the next room. Back then, there was a wall. A boundary that couldn't be crossed. Now? It was just them. They were the only ones to blame, if it didn't work.

"I try." She said softly.

"It shows."

Her hands held onto the warmth, a small smile curled on her lips. "I'm glad you spent the evening with us, El." She cleared her throat, "Noah likes you, too."

"Did you ever think we'd get here, Benson?" His hand rested against his cheek, the slightest smile crept onto his face. "I, for one, never thought you'd get me to drink this." They shared a laugh; falling back into a sense of normalcy, the ease that their friendship brought was something that would get him through this. He knew that if anyone had his back, it'd be her.

—

The following day Stabler found himself in the evidence locker, searching through boxes. There had to be a connection. His mind went back to one person: Wheatley. It was the only plausible explanation; Simon worked for one of his pharmacies, he overdosed on one of the medications he distributed. Why now? There was always the slim chance that someone else was to blame. He'd been threatened countless times over the years, perps vowed to find him when they were out. Some had succeeded, none had crossed the line the way he did.

His trail of thoughts was interrupted by a box, located toward the back - it was as if it was purposely put there to not draw attention to it.

Benson, Olivia

His heart stopped. "…Liv." He spoke in a tone that was hardly audible. His consciousness was slipping; the room was spinning, he couldn't process ?. His hands were shaking. He removed the box's lid - the first thing he saw was the badge he'd given her. Underneath, a cream sweater. Blood. A point blank shot, he thought. The palm of his hand went to his temple, eyes clenched shut. He blinked back the tears welling in his eyes. Before proceeding, he looked over his shoulder; his medallion. It was bent, splattered with blood. He coughed, maybe choked. The tears rolled down his cheeks as he sifted through the contents.

He wasn't there. She needed him, and he was gone.

—

Been dealing with a bit of writer's block, so unfortunately this is much shorter than I wanted it to be, but it's the start of a very difficult conversation. Antidote was originally meant to be 5 chapters, however due to the additions I've made I'm leaning toward 8-10.

I should be releasing a new series in the near future - hoping it'll spark some creativity! :)

Twitter: dunduneo