A/N: confronting the source of our breakdown is often the path to rebuilding ourselves. - Anonymous

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

"My son didn't tell me," the weathered-looking man taps his hands on the table like drumsticks, and he tries to smile though it's clear he's uncomfortable. "What exactly is this about?" His nose twitches and he presses his lips together firmly. As he looks around the room, his pulse quickens. The bare walls suddenly seem as though they're closing in on him; the barred window makes him feel much more like a prisoner. "Am I in some sort of trouble?" When he turns to look at the man in front of him, he sees that he has his answer.

Elliot eyes him for a moment, exhales as he flaps the photograph in his trembling hands, and then takes two steps closer to the long metallic table. "Joseph Hollister," he speaks to the man for the first time. He drops the photo to the scratched surface and slides it over to the other side. "Does she look familiar?" He sees the way Hollister's skin loses every bit of color, how his shoulders slump and his face contorts into an expression that is either hatred or confusion. "Well?"

"I know who this is," Hollister nods, closing his eyes and licking his lips. He places a bony hand on top of the eight-by-ten photo of Serena Benson. "This was…" he swallows hard. "Can you tell me if, um...she's still…around?"

"She's alive," Elliot confirms, but he folds his arms and narrows his eyes, angling his irritated expression slightly. "How do you know her?" Of course, he already has the answer, but he needs it on record, he needs the verbalized confession or the man walks.

"You must know that, Detective Stabler," Hollister sighs, "Or I wouldn't be sitting in this chair." He drags his cold, shaking hand down the front of his face. "Does Olivia know I'm here?" He pulls on the fabric of his black and white striped shirt, as if he's trying to keep himself from burning up, and he looks toward the large mirror. "Is she…" he points toward the glass and swallows the rest of his question.

It takes Elliot by surprise, his jaw drops and all of the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stands on end. The way he yanks on the cuffs of his suit jacket gives away his nerves. "How the hell do you know her…"

Hollister raises a hand. "She's my daughter," he says it as though it isn't shocking for him to know about her. "How she was conceived...that's something I am haunted by, but I am...tremendously proud of her. Of being her father." He lets out a sigh that makes his whole body quake and he drops his head into his hands. "God, I was so messed up. It shouldn't have happened, I...couldn't control myself." He smiles slightly. "But something wonderful came from it." His eyes find the mirror again.

"It did," Elliot's brows knit together, and his crossed arms bulge with tension and the need to throttle the man before him. "Serena Benson," he rolls his neck and the pops and snaps of his joints fill the space between himself and Hollister, "Was your third and final victim. Was having a child your goal? You stopped when you found out she was pregnant because you got what you wanted?"

Hollister inhales, some color returns to his tan skin, and he blinks rapidly as he knots his fingers together. "I wasn't even thinking about the consequences. I told you I was messed up, man. Sick." He closes his eyes and years of mistakes and medications replay behind his clenched lids. "I was working long hours, a dead-end sales job, and seeing those college girls...living the life I should've been living…" he opens his eyes and they're filled with tears. He trembles as he breathes, his tongue pokes around in his mouth as he tries to regain composure. One single tear breaks free and falls as he says, "I know what I did. I know that I'm the monster living in the heads of those three beautiful women."

This is not at all how Elliot had imagined this conversation, and he cracks his knuckles before dragging a black folding chair across the stone floor. He sits across from Hollister and tries to keep himself calm, pushing his personal stake in this to the farthest corner of his mind. "You are," he hisses.

Hollister scoffs and nods. "But after...after her…" he taps Serena's photo, "It was on the news. I knew right away it was me, the man they were looking for, but I couldn't go to the cops. It scared me straight, though." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I went to see a doctor at a clinic in Brooklyn and started taking these pills that, uh, cleared my head. Made me feel normal again." Looking around the foreboding interrogation room, he exhales and chuckles. "They don't work so well, anymore. I'm sure my son could tell you that I'm not going to be winning any Father of the Year awards. My wife will be the first to say I'm violent and hard to live with. Thought I could run from my past, but now, more than ever, I deserve to be put in a cage." He blinks again and says, "I raped three women, I've hit my wife, nearly killed my son…and destroyed my daughter's life without ever even being part of it." He grinned. "She overcame a lot, though, huh? Became a strong, beautiful, intelligent woman. Youngest detective in how many years?"

"You clearly know all about Olivia, then," Elliot begins, clasping his hands together in front of him. "The last twenty-one years, the times when you, uh, were clear-headed, as you put it...you never reached out, or tried to find…"

"I called her, once," Hollister breaks in, then he shrugs. "Serena's number was listed, I just wanted to talk to her, but...when Olivia answered the phone, I couldn't figure out what to say, I hung up." Scratching his forehead, he says, "When I met Sharon, my wife, I told her I had a daughter. She's always known. My son has always understood that he has a sister he's never met. I didn't hide it, I just wasn't exactly forthcoming about how…" his voice breaks, a soft sob escapes. "I'd like to meet her. I know she must have questions."

"This isn't a family reunion," Elliot grits, his jaw tight. "You're not going home, you know that, don't you?" He tilts his head, lets himself give the man an intimidating and vile smirk. "On top of the assault charges, you're facing three counts of rape. The governor extended the statutes, so you're going to be…"

Hollister, again, nods as he stops Elliot with an out-turned palm. "I'm aware, Detective. But before I answer for what I've done, I'd like to talk to Olivia. Tell her I know how smart she is, how proud I am that she's been able to achieve so much more than other girls her age, and how sorry I am for...everything she went through…" another tear rolls down his cheek, "Because of me." He looks at Elliot and sniffles. "Let me talk to my daughter, before you take me in, while I'm lucid enough to say what I have to say."

Elliot bites his top lip, clipping it hard with his bottom teeth, then turns and looks toward the mirror built into the wall behind him. He gets up, slowly moves toward the door, and closes his eyes as he opens it. "Liv?" He hears her sniffle before he steps into the pit and he feels the guilt rise. You're not the reason she hurts. You're the reason the pain is going to stop. He inhales as he looks at her. "I am so sor…" he lets out a soft grunt as he catches her body, the force stopping his words. With closed eyes, he wraps his arms around her when she throws herself into him. He whispers something as he sinks around her, and he doesn't care that Cragen is watching it happen, he kisses the top of her head. "You wanna talk to him?" he asks softly.

Unfolding herself from him, she nods, wipes her eyes, and clears her throat. You can't repay him for this. With another expelled breath, she lets go of his arm then steps into the boxy room and smoothes the wrinkles out of her black button-down. Her eyes widen just a bit when Hollister stands up and stares directly at her, but she finds the strength to keep herself in cop-mode. "Hello," she says coldly as she sits in Elliot's vacated seat.

Hollister smiles as he drops back into his chair. "Olivia," he huffs, and then the tears flow freely, and he gives Elliot a grateful nod before studying the face of his daughter. "You look like your mother."

"Funny," Olivia bites, "She's always told me that I look just like you." There's so much more she can pile onto that statement. Stories she could tell about how much looking like him affected her childhood. Looking over her shoulder, she eyes Elliot for a moment. It's over. Turning back to Hollister, she folds her arms and waits for him to speak.

"Elliot," Cragen calls, and he gestures for the younger man to get back into the pit and close the door. When they're practically eye-to-eye, he lowers his voice. "I did you a favor by letting this happen because I trusted you on it, and she needed this." He lets out a breath. "Now I am only going to say this once," he raises a finger, points hard at him, and gives him a dark-eyed glare. "End it with her. Whatever it is, it stops now. She's practically a child, you are her partner and handler. Yeah, you have to show her the ropes at work, but that doesn't mean you have to teach her everything else, too."

"Are you accusing me of something?" Elliot's eyes narrow and his once-soothed rage begins to build again. "I told you this morning that there's nothing going on! You think that just because I brought in the man that..."

"You lied to me, this morning! Prove me wrong," Cragen snaps, and he feels his pulse race as the words he wants to say form on his tongue. "I am not going to let your ego-fueled midlife crisis put this unit and that kid on IAB's shit-list!" He is shaking with untapped fury as he jabs his finger into Elliot's chest again. "You feed on the fact that she practically idolizes you, prey on her need for validation from a fucking father figure…"

"Captain Cragen," Elliot grabs the man's hand and pulls it away from his body, his nostrils flaring as every muscle in his whole body tightens and clenches with controlled anger. "Who the hell do you think you're talking to?" He blinks once and throws Cragen's arm back at him. "I already told you, I am not using her! Am I flattered that the girl thinks of me as some kind of personal hero? Fuck, yes! But I also respect her, trust her, and it's my responsibility to protect her! I found Hollister to get the justice her mother deserves, not to lure her into bed with me! Shit, this is more than just…" he chuckles and shakes his head. "I don't have to justify this to you. Or anyone else."

Something filters into the pit from the monitor and makes both heads turn, and Elliot reaches out fast to hit the button, but Cragen stops him. "Wait," the older man barks.

With a racing heart, Elliot listens to Hollister say something to Olivia, asking a question that could get him into deep and troubled water. No one knows how, exactly, he found Hollister. "Captain, I was just trying to...

"She just said…" Cragen speaks at the same time. He squints and sends a harsh look over to Elliot. "You two already talked to his son? They've met?" Folding his arms, he tries to breathe deeply and calm himself down. "How did you even find out about Marsden and Hollister?"

Wiping his forehead with the palm of his hand, Elliot expels a loud, coughing breath. "I had a guy I can't stand dig files no one knew existed out of a closet that's been locked for ten years. Then I had a friend of mine run Liv through the federal system, just so she could find out if there was someone out there who could tell her why she has brown eyes and whether or not she's part German." He blinks once, debating whether or not to tell him about the run-in he'd had with Marsden at a crime scene, gauging how much trouble he's already in versus what else he could bring on. "I called Simon when I was at the hospital with Liv and her mother. We met him for coffee and told him...why we really needed to talk to his father."

Cragen hides his annoyance by bringing his hand to his mouth and he tries to keep his own opinions and emotions in check as he listens more intently to the conversation Olivia is having with the man who raped her mother. A man that wouldn't be in custody if Elliot hadn't found him. "You were told when you took this job that there are lines you do not cross," he swallows once, turns and glares at Elliot, and shakes his head. "You let this get personal. You got too invested and too involved, and now you're in over your head with your partner!"

"Fuck," Elliot gruffs quickly. "Take this however the hell you want." He throws both hands up and starts raising his voice defensively. "She had a right to meet her brother, and I wanted to apologize to him for lying so he'd bring his father down here! Forgive me for giving a shit about my partner and offering her family a bit of respect before I ripped it apart!" Thrusting a hand out, he turns his back on the window and steps toward Cragen. "The man is being booked, charged, and arraigned! Shit, when I found him, I thought I'd be doing her a favor by arresting the son of a bitch, but now I feel like I ruined her life!"

"You're wrong," Olivia says softly, having walked back into the viewing room. He didn't ruin your life. He saved it. When Elliot turns to her, honestly surprised, she steps closer to him. "Um…" she clears her throat, holding his exasperated gaze. "I'm Irish, Hungarian, and Dutch. No history of anything that would…" she trails off, sniffles again. "He battles depression, but it's more circumstantial than biological. I have his eyes and his temper. I've got uncles, cousins, a family that I have no desire to meet but...they're out there. And, well...we already talked to Simon, so…" she wipes her eyes and takes a single step, trying to stop her lower lip from trembling. "I don't know how to thank you for this."

Shaking his head, Elliot grabs her hand and squeezes, then lets out a shaky breath when he returns his grip just as hard. "You don't have to thank me. Just remember this moment the next time we get into a fight." He chuckles and then inhales sharply. "We can tell your mom that he's not out there anymore, she doesn't have to look over her shoulder, or rely on a bottle for the strength to leave the house." He keeps his hands from pulling at her or reaching for other parts of her body, unwilling to let Cragen see anything else that could give away their poorly kept secret. "Maybe now you...you can build a relationship with her that isn't based on your badge."

Cragen turns away from them, suddenly realizing there's a depth to Elliot Stabler he doesn't feel worthy of meeting, a sacredness to his relationship with Olivia he doesn't want to be privy to, and he clears his throat. "Read the man his rights, tell him he may be Benson's biological father, but we aren't letting him walk because of..."

"The man knows what he did," Elliot interrupts, "He knows that Liv and Serena and his other victims hate him for it, and a sudden onset of temporary clarity doesn't negate anything." He nods at his captain, lets a soft but apologetic look land on Olivia, and he retreats back into the interrogation room to close a chapter of his partner's life that has taken too long to complete.

"What did I walk in on, Sir?" Olivia asks, curiously staring at the back of Cragen's head. She knots her fingers through the belt loops of her grey pants. "What was he yelling about? Am I being reassigned because of this? Fired?"

"No, of course not," Cragen turns and smiles almost sadly at her. "This was rough on you, I know that, but the two of you pulled a lot of strings to find this guy, and I don't think you understand what…"

"I get it," she interjects as she leans against the wall, "I didn't ask him to do this. I know you think it must mean there's something going on with me and Stabler." She breathes out through her nose. "He's an amazing partner, he really is, but…" the lie eats away at her tongue as it forms. "There's nothing going on. He's got four children," her gaze drops to her shoes and she kicks her feet across the cement floor. "He'll get tired of having to deal with another kid at work, eventually." She pops up and tries to smile. "So if all that yelling was about me being too young for this job, I am..."

"Benson," Cragen interrupts with a sigh, "I knew how old you were when I gave you the job." He rubs his eyes and looks at her again. "I said something to him that was out of line." He waves a hand and says, "That's all." He watches her for a moment, and though he hasn't known her for very long, he sees a change in her already. "Knowing," he whispers, "Makes a difference, doesn't it?" Smiling as she nods at him, he rests a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "When he comes out of there, you have a body dump on Sixty-Seventh Street. Why don't you fill in all the empty spaces in your files while you're waiting for him, huh?"

Olivia licks her lips as she follows Cragen through the door and into the squadroom. Her legs start to give out the closer she gets to her desk, the reality sinks in just as her body falls into her chair. With jittery fingers, she clicks the keys to log onto her computer, and when she signs into her personnel profile, she gasps. "Oh, my God," she wheezes, because it hits her like an uppercut to the chin. She has the answers to every ignored question. Each blank can now be filled in, and she knows the names of people that didn't even exist in her world an hour ago.

Elliot watches her from the archway between the pit and bullpen, his eyes trained on her face as she types and fills in all of the neglected spots in her file, in her life. He feels a hand on his shoulder and he smiles. "I had to," he whispers. "You can't be mad at me for this." He licks his lips, the burn behind his nose coming to life as his eyes grow wet.

Cragen nods and says, "I know. I'm not." He squeezes Elliot's arm once, an unvoiced apology, and he says, "Eastman's on her way up to deal with Hollister. You and Benson need to meet Rodgers at the bus stop at Sixty-Seventh and Amsterdam." When Elliot turns to look at him he says, "Unless you'd rather take Cassidy? Jeffries?" Noticing the look of disgust on Elliot's face, he chuckles. "Go," he backs away and turns, heading back into the pit to wait for the ADA.

Elliot moves, then, walking up to Olivia, and he kneels beside her chair and drops both of his hands to her knees. "You okay?"

"It's not just half-done anymore," she whispers, and she turns to look down at him. "Because you…" she refuses to cry again, and she stands, feeling his hands slide down her thighs and legs as she moves. He gives you chills. Reaching for her jacket, she averts her gaze because she has never wanted to kiss him more than she does at this moment. "Did Cragen tell you where we need to go?"

"Yeah," he grabs his own coat, pulls it on, and then straightens out his tie. "Coffee first," he starts, but he waits for her to step up beside him before he continues, "Because if I'm tired, you gotta be exhausted." One of his hands slips around her arm and cups her elbow, and he leads her out of the department door. As they move down the hall, they're silent. He can hear her breathing, ragged and shallow, and he tightens his grip because he knows what it means. With a whistle, he jerks his head and leads her down the stairs, then into a dark, cold corner of the last landing near the door to the back alley.

As soon as she's sure no one can see her and the cameras are focused on the door and not them, she drops into him and like a shaken champagne bottle, she erupts. Her cries are muffled by his chest, her wrought body is supported by his strong arms, and she can feel him kissing her head and shoulders. He won't let you fall, so let go. When her body gives out a bit more, it's his thighs that keep her standing.

Saying nothing, he lets her vent without interruption. His lips find her neck and he loops his arms tighter around her, knowing that she needs him to brace her completely. It's hard for her to show this side of her, and he's the only person who's ever seen it. There's still so much you don't know, but you know more than anyone. The beauty in her broken moments isn't lost on him; he treasures how much she trusts him with the parts of herself the rest of the world never sees. Trailing his lips across her chin, he whispers, "I got you."

Fists ball up in his white shirt, one of her knees shifts and ushers between his legs, her quiet cries die in the crook of his neck, and her tears soak into the fabric of his suit jacket. As she takes a deep breath, his aftershave fills her lungs, mixed with a scent that's purely him, and it soothes her. "God, I'm sorry," she sniffles and rubs her eyes after she peels herself off of him. "This day has been…"

His kiss stops her explanation, his hands filter through her hair, and as he pulls back, he says, "I was right there with you, every minute. I know." Closing his eyes, he presses his lips to her forehead. "I know." Their noses brush together for a long, silent moment, and he smiles at her as he sees her eyes brighten. "Feel better?"

Laughing as she nods, she gives him a nudge toward the door. "I do, actually," she exhales. Following him through the side door, she shoves her hands in her pockets. "God. Jackson and Carter, then Karen, my mom...Simon and my...father," she huffs and kicks a rock, sending it sailing down the alleyway. "Is this day fucking over yet?"

Chuckling, he replies, "Not by a long shot, baby." He grabs her hand, links their fingers, and he says, "But, um, when it ends...we're going to Mace." He smirks at the look she gives him. "The place, uh, made quite an impression on the guys. Call your friends, have them meet us there, I think we earned a night of recklessness." He leans closer to her. "And I know you could use a drink."

"More than one," she says, elbowing him. "Kids staying with Kathy?" She hears him give a sad affirmation and her chin drops. Take his mind off of it. As they head for the car, the weight of the day seems to fall off of her shoulders and she stands a bit straighter. "El?"

He looks at her as he unlocks the car. "Yeah?" A surprised moan passes from his mouth to hers as she kisses him unexpectedly. When she backs away, he grins at her. The words she'd mumbled against his lips finally register and he opens the door for her as he replies. "I love you, too." As he moves toward the other side of the car, his phone rings, and he answers it just as he pulls on the driver's side handle. "Stabler," he spits out. He listens and a smile spreads across his face as one of the last remaining cracks in his heart begins to seal. "You're welcome. I promised you I would…" his eyes dart to the car, he sees Olivia looking at him with a question in her eyes. "I will, thank you. Yes, Ma'am. Bye."

"Who was that?" When he sits behind the wheel, she slaps him in the arm. "Huh?"

"Your mother," he answers, and as he jams the key in to start the car, he says, "Cragen called her because Eastman needs to schedule an interview with her." He looks over at her again, reaches out a hand, and brushes her hair back. "She told me to tell you she loves you, and that she's on her way to an AA meeting."

Her smile widens. "I really do love you," she whispers to him. When he replies, he kisses her hand and then steps on the gas. As the car moves, her eyes are glued to Elliot's hands on the wheel. He kept his promise. Now you have to keep yours. Her head turns and she looks out the window as she swallows hard. "Before we go to the bar," she licks her lips, "We need to go to my place." She snaps her head back toward him. "I need to start packing."

A/N: A night at the bar takes a deadly turn. Next.