Prompt #19: Elliot & Olivia get together for a holiday meal/feast with all of the family
Let Your Hearts Be Light
~oOo~
The holidays were prime for breakdowns.
Total emotional upheaval, but make it festive.
That had to be why when Olivia's cell phone rang in the early morning on Christmas Eve and she rolled over, barely awake, to answer the unidentified number the person on the other end sounded like they were half a second from totally losing their shit.
"Hello?"
"Olivia?"
She knew that voice, but she didn't know it well enough to immediately place who it was, and her phone screen could only supply the number and no name when she pulled it from her ear and checked it again.
"Yes?"
In the bed next to her, Elliot grumbled and rolled onto his side to crack open one eye and squint at her.
"Please tell me how the fuck to make a Christmas ham."
She was less thrown by the swearing than by the dawning realization of just who was on the other end of the phone.
"Lizzie?"
"Yeah, sorry, probably should have started with that, but I'm about to throw an uncooked ham out the window and I think I burnt the stuffing and—"
Her tirade was interrupted by a sudden screech, and on her end of the phone Olivia recognized it for the obnoxious sound of a smoke detector. She could hear Elliot's youngest daughter shuffling around and cursing on the other end of the line, presumably doing what she could to shut the alarm off; Olivia pulled herself up to lean against her headboard as she rubbed a hand over her face.
"Liv?" Elliot asked as he pushed himself up onto one elbow.
"Hold on," she mouthed, because the screeching had stopped and she thought she could hear Lizzie's increasingly ragged breathing on the other end. "Lizzie?"
"I'm here," the younger woman answered after a moment. "I'm sorry, I didn't think about how early it is and I know I probably woke you and — wait, is my dad there? Never mind. If—"
"Lizzie," Olivia interrupted gently. "Why don't you text me your address, and I'll be there as soon as I've showered."
Lizzie hesitated, clearly torn between declining the offer and desperately wanting the help, and then she sighed heavily. Olivia flung the covers off of her and slid out of bed even as Lizzie thanked her and begged her not to hurry.
Olivia had every intention of hurrying, of course, and she flipped on the water for her shower and then pulled her hair up into a bun to keep it out of the way. Today wasn't a wash day but even if it had been she wouldn't have bothered after waking up to that phone call.
She'd barely stepped into the water when Elliot appeared, stepping into the shower behind her and then dropping his head to kiss her shoulder.
"Everything okay?"
"Apparently Lizzie volunteered to make Christmas Eve dinner without actually knowing how to make Christmas dinner."
Elliot didn't ask the question that Olivia thought he would, the question that she had started to ask herself in the few minutes that had passed after that phone call. Why had Lizzie called her, of all people? Maureen was married now and, as the oldest daughter, had likely made the holiday meal for her own family at least once or twice over the years. Even Elliot would have made more sense to call — he'd probably at least helped Kathy make this meal once or twice through the years and could have provided some guidance.
Elliot's hands on her ass interrupted her train of thought. His hands were a little colder than the water, still, but it was the way he grabbed her, the force of his fingers as they kneaded her flesh that caught her attention.
Olivia knew where things were headed, where they were always headed when he grabbed her like that, and as much as she wanted him to continue she wanted even more to help his daughter.
"El," she said with a sigh.
"I know, I know."
"You don't mind keeping Noah for the day?"
"Liv," Elliot replied.
Their relationship was new without being totally new, which was a conundrum that sometimes made her head hurt if she thought about it too long. They'd been in a relationship for a while, but they were getting closer to the day where their frequent nights overturned into something permanent, and Elliot was as much a fixture in Noah's life as he was in Olivia's. Elliot was on all of Noah's school forms now, and on a first-name basis with Noah's ballet teacher, yet she still worried, sometimes, that maybe one day this new domesticity might falter.
Might be taken from her, and Elliot understood that though she didn't believe it, really, there were still moments where Olivia's need for reassurance outweighed her pragmatic nature.
"Dinner is supposed to be at five, but I'll make sure we're there a few hours early," Elliot told her through the rush of water as Olivia bathed herself. "Just in case you guys need some extra hands."
Olivia had never been the type to shower with her lover before, and for the most part she still wasn't. It was nice though, the way Elliot would step into the shower with her from time to time just to steal a few extra minutes with her. Often, those few extra minutes were spent pleasuring each other, but it wasn't unusual for those minutes to be spent just like this. Just together, talking about the upcoming day or maybe the one prior, soft kisses under the warm spray of water.
Sometimes, Olivia wanted her space, but sometimes, those extra minutes together made all the difference.
She would have liked to stay, today, to let the drone of the water hide their joint gasps and moans of pleasure as Elliot fucked her against the shower wall, but she was worried about Lizzie.
The older Stabler kids had accepted the change in Olivia's relationship with their father with grace and little surprise. Only Eli had given them a little trouble, in the beginning, and Elliot more so than Olivia at that. She was closest to the girls, and closer still to Kathleen, but Elliot's middle daughter was the only child outside of Eli who ever called Olivia if they needed something.
In fact, the twins had never called Olivia. Until this morning, Olivia would have doubted that either one of them even knew her number.
Noah was still asleep when Olivia was leaving, so she tiptoed into his room and dropped a kiss into his curls before finding Elliot waiting for her by the door. She kissed him as he handed her a travel mug of coffee, warm against her hands.
"Don't forget the stockings."
"Don't let Lizzie burn the place down," Elliot responded with a fond smile.
"See you soon."
Elliot watched her check herself with one hand on the doorknob, running through her mental checklist of things she needed, and his heart was too big for his chest, suddenly. She looked beautiful despite the early morning and unexpected wake-up, in her jeans and nice sweater with her hair wavy and loose around her face.
She had one foot out the door when he called to her quietly, unable to let the moment pass without speaking.
"Hey."
Olivia paused on the other side of the door, which was half-closed behind her already, and leaned her head around the door to peer at him.
"Yeah?"
Elliot moved toward her. "I love you," he said and kissed her once more.
They'd been careful with their I love you's, almost testing them out as they adjusted to the reality that their relationship allowed for such truths, now. They weren't light things yet, those three little words, easily tossed over shoulders or into the middle of mundane tasks because it still felt so big, that truth, something hidden and danced around for so long that the novelty of them hadn't worn off.
He could see the way it struck her in the moment and knew that she'd need time to digest the unexpectedness of it, so he gently pried her hand off the doorknob with a grin and shooed her out the door.
She needed less time than he expected, though, because he was halfway back to the kitchen for his own cup of coffee when the door opened behind him. Elliot turned to see Olivia's head poking through the door again, a happy smirk on her face as they locked eyes across the space.
"I love you, too," she said and disappeared to the sound of his chuckle.
Lizzie's apartment was in the Bronx. Olivia had never been there, and she spent the drive wondering about Elizabeth Stabler's life. The twins had been adults for a long time, well-established adults, at that, despite the fact that Olivia knew next to nothing about their lives. Did Lizzie have a roommate? A friend, maybe, that had agreed to go in on an apartment with her so they could a bigger place than the shoe closets that normally passed for one-bedroom apartments in the city. Lizzie had never spoken about a significant other, but Olivia wondered about that as she drove.
Was there someone special in Lizzie's life? Someone that she didn't want to introduce her family to, for some reason? Or was Lizzie just that private, preferring to keep her romantic relationships separate from everything else? Or was it just that Lizzie was more like Olivia, in that aspect — more like she had been, before Elliot, anyway — and that no one ever stuck around like enough to worry about things like that?
Well, maybe she would find out, finally, one way or another.
The GPS announced that she had arrived when Olivia had pulled up in front of a nondescript building. It was older, and boring looking from the outside, but it appeared clean and in good repair.
That was reassuring. Olivia had not known until this exact moment that she'd been worried about where Lizzie lived, worried that it would be rundown or dangerous or defective in some other way.
So far, so good.
She had lucked out on the parking. With the click of a button on her keys, Olivia made sure that her vehicle was locked and she headed into the building. It was still early; she sent Lizzie a text to let her know that she was on her way up.
By foot, apparently, because it only took her a few seconds to realize that the elevator wasn't working.
Lizzie was on the eighth floor, and wasn't that just a great little reminder of how old she was getting these days, Olivia thought, because her thighs were on fire by the time she reached the fourth floor.
By the sixth floor she was breathing harder than she would admit, and by the eighth floor, Olivia was downright grumpy about how out of shape she felt.
Elliot probably could have run up the eight flights of stairs and back without breaking a sweat, that asshole.
Olivia was nearly at Lizzie's door when her phone buzzed with a text that let her know the door was unlocked and to just come in, so she opened the door quietly and called out a greeting.
"Lizzie?"
The apartment was warm and a little smoky, no doubt a holdover from whatever had set off the fire alarm when they'd been on the phone, but it was well-lit and clean. Bigger than Olivia had expected but still small, and she wondered how they were all going to fit into the space for dinner.
A harried Lizzie Stabler stuck her head around the corner at the sound of her name. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and Olivia could see the frustration in her face. She'd been scowling, but the second she caught sight of Olivia her expression changed into something softer, something a little more upset and vulnerable.
It reminded her so much of the way that Noah's face would fall as soon as he saw her after a hard day, or something disappointing happened, that Olivia moved to her immediately. She managed to remember just before she reached for the younger woman that Lizzie wasn't her daughter, and might not want a hug — might not want to be held by a woman who wasn't her mother, or even held at all.
The surprise shocked her to her bones, then, when Lizzie collapsed against Olivia's chest and let out a few desperate tears against her shirt.
"God, what the hell was I thinking?" Lizzie whined. "I don't know how to make Christmas dinner and there's no way everyone is going to fit in here and I don't even like cooking, Olivia, why didn't I just let Maureen do it again?"
"Okay," Olivia soothed, rubbing a hand up and down Lizzie's back. "Okay. Let's take this one step at a time, okay?"
Olivia started to move toward the couch and Lizzie let go in favor of following her and sitting down next to her. She was a grown woman now, and had been for years, but Olivia couldn't help thinking about that little girl with glasses and bows in her pigtails when she looked at her. Lizzie seemed so young again in the moment, uncertain and in need of guidance, and Olivia wanted nothing more than to help.
"Should we call your dad?" she offered. "We know everyone will fit at his place, and it wouldn't take much to get all of this stuff over there."
Lizzie was clearly torn over the decision. Now that Olivia could sit with her face to face, she had the sneaking suspicion that Lizzie had volunteered to make the family dinner this year because she needed something, or needed to prove something, either to herself or to someone else in the family. Maureen, perhaps? Or maybe Dickie?
"Lizzie," Olivia started gently. "Can I ask why you wanted to make dinner this year? You don't seem to be enjoying yourself."
Lizzie sighed. When she looked at Olivia she seemed lost again, and sheepish.
"Do you ever just feel sometimes like you don't know where you belong? Like… it doesn't matter if you're there or not? And I don't mean in a morbid way, don't freak out. I just mean… like you don't know where you fit in, and nothing would change if you just stopped showing up one day?"
Olivia couldn't immediately reply. She hadn't expected that answer, or to feel suddenly so connected to Lizzie — to feel like they had something in common that Olivia would never have expected.
She cleared her throat lightly. "I've felt that way many times in my life," she admitted slowly.
Lizzie squirmed a little in her seat, uncomfortable but trusting, and that wasn't lost on Olivia either. That Lizzie, one of the Stabler children that she had interacted with the least over the years, was comfortable enough with her to not only call her when she needed someone, but to sit and have such a conversation with her.
"It's just… growing up everyone had their thing, you know? Maureen was the helper, the oldest daughter, and the most like mom. Kathleen was the wild child, and the angry one, and then she was the one that everyone sort of worried about, you know? Whether or not her meds were working, and how she was dealing, and… well, I guess you know about that firsthand, too, huh? And Dickie's the only son, you know? That would have been enough, but he was angry for a while too, and dad didn't always like his friends. And then here I am: quiet, nerdy, follow the rules Lizzie."
She was ready to cry again, and even though she was an adult now Olivia knew that it was still something that bothered her, this lack of definition of a space where she belonged in her family, so she scooted closer and laid a warm hand on Lizzie's back. A silent reassurance, and a reminder that Olivia was here, and listening.
"I just— I guess I feel forgotten, you know? O … I don't know. I volunteered to make Christmas Eve dinner because I wanted to, but probably not for the right reason, you know? I didn't do it because I wanted to feed everyone, or make them happy — I guess I did it because I wanted to prove that I belong, and that I can be like mom was, too. Does that make sense?"
"It does," Olivia said. She had never been part of a big family, but she knew what it was like to be uncertain of who she was and where she stood and how she fit; she knew what it was to feel like maybe no one would notice if she just left one day.
Now, on the other side of fifty and with so many years of life experience, Olivia knew that everyone felt this way from time to time. It was normal, in a way, to wonder whether or not you mattered — even to those that were closest to you.
"I was so desperate to belong that I forgot that I hate cooking," Lizzie said suddenly, laughing around the thick knot of tears that clogged her throat. "And there's no way that we're all going to fit in here."
Olivia tried to hide her smile as she took another look around the apartment. "I wasn't sure how to bring it up," she admitted, "but I think you're right."
Just like that, they were laughing, and Lizzie wiped the tears that were drying on her cheeks and took a deep, fortifying breath.
"Do you think dad will mind if we move everything to his place?"
"I think he'll love that."
So, they moved everything to Elliot's apartment — and Olivia didn't feel so bad about sounding like she was going to hyperventilate as they carried everything down from Lizzie's apartment, because Lizzie was breathless and panting right along with her — and Bernie and Eli were there to greet them, and help them carry everything in.
Elliot had made sure that everything and everyone was good when Olivia had called to tell him about the change, and Olivia had assured him that everything was under control, and then texted him afterward to let him know that it would be a good idea to give Lizzie an extra big hug when he saw her later.
"Okay," Olivia said when they had everything arranged on the kitchen counter, "w do you want to start?"
"With the ham," Bernie said immediately, and Olivia and Lizzie looked at her for clarification. "It takes the longest. Get that started and in the oven and then you can do everything else."
Lizzie looked at Olivia, who nodded as she was pulling her hair up into a ponytail, and then back at her grandma.
"Congratulations, grams," Lizzie said with a grin. "You've just been recruited for the kitchen team."
"Oh, don't be silly, you don't need my help," Bernie retorted dryly.
Maybe it was because they'd already had that conversation on Lizzie's couch, but Olivia understood those words on a different level today. She heard the attempt at humor, but beneath that was the same thing that Lizzie was struggling with: a feeling of disconnectedness, and a fear of a lack of belonging.
"We do," Olivia said quickly, squeezing Bernie's arm softly. "I don't usually make ham for Noah and I."
"And I hate cooking," Lizzie added. "So, I never paid attention to any of mom's recipes. Please, grams?"
Bernie smiled and then started to move away, and as if she knew that Lizzie was about to say something she called out over her shoulder.
"We can't cook without music!"
That was how Elliot and Noah found them a few hours later when they arrived: laughing and talking with Christmas music playing loudly in the background as they circled each other in the kitchen.
It had been a good year — a little easier than the previous one, a little less painful and a lot brighter - but this was, Elliot thought, the best moment. Christmas was made for him, now; more than the dinner, and the gifts, and the general holiday spirit, this was what made him feel the most hopeful. This was what the season was about: the joy and camaraderie that was lighting up his kitchen at this very moment.
Noah was quick to give his mom a hug, and Elliot snuck an arm around her waist from behind to pull her into him and press a quick kiss to her cheek; he hugged Lizzie tightly and told her he loved her, and that it smelled delicious; and dropped a kiss into his mother's hair with a fond "love you, ma," and then he left them alone again.
He recruited Eli and Noah to help him hang the stockings. There was laughter and music in the house, and as the air filled with the smell of food and the rest of his family filtered in, Elliot sent up a quick prayer in thanks. He had more now than he'd dared hope for two years ago. He knew what a blessing it was to be here, and have this, and he knew how close he'd come to not having it.
He did, though, and his whole family was here in this apartment with him, laughing and merry-making and filling his heart in ways that none of them knew, and Elliot would be hard-pressed to explain.
At the center of it all, like a magnet that kept pulling them all in every so often, was Olivia. Elliot wondered if she was even aware of it: how everyone would move back into her orbit every so often, as if she were the touchstone and they just needed a second to ground themselves in her presence before moving off again.
She had told him once, a lifetime ago in a darkened car, that the thing she wanted most in the world was to be part of a family.
Noah was laughing as Eli teased him, and Maureen's boys were calling loudly to their mother, and everywhere he looked Elliot saw life and laughter and light.
He saw his family, and her family — their family, the one they had both worked so hard to protect and care for and love through the years, in any way they could.
There was a moment where Olivia was finally alone in the kitchen, and Elliot took his chance. He knew it wouldn't be long before someone found their way to her side again and he wanted a moment alone with her, just a few seconds of this day carved out for them alone.
"Thank you," Elliot whispered as he came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist.
"I haven't done anything," Olivia whispered back. She laid her arms over his where they rested against her and Elliot dropped his chin onto her shoulder.
They stood like that for a minute, just holding each other and staring out over the assembled mass of their family.
"You've done so much, Liv. So much." He pressed a kiss into the soft skin of her cheek and smiled when she tilted her head into him. "And I'm not just talking about today, with Lizzie."
"I still don't know why she didn't just call you."
"Because she didn't need me. She needed you, and you were there. Like you've always been there, for all of us. I know you haven't been paying attention, but I have. They all come to you, at some point. They want your help, or your opinion, or your attention."
"They don't," Olivia started.
"Hey, Liv," Maureen interrupted just then, as if the universe was out to prove her wrong. "Do you think Noah and the boys would be okay at the smaller table? The big table—"
"Only if Dickie has to sit at the smaller table with them!" Kathleen hollered from nearby.
Dickie appeared across the kitchen island from them, and despite the fact that they were adults now he stuck his tongue out at his sister in a fit of childishness.
"I'd rather sit with them than have to be next to you!"
"You can all piss off," Bernie chimed in, "Noah already said grandma could sit with them."
"Mama," Elliot chided, because he'd already warned her about saying things like 'piss off' around Noah and Maureen's boys.
Olivia could hardly breathe through the fullness in her chest. Elliot was right: they were looking at her, now, this family that had always been theirs yet somehow not, somehow divided until the last year or so.
Lizzie had called her this morning, frantic and desperate and sad, and now they were all waiting for her to decide on how this should go, like she was, impossibly, the head of the family.
"We can all fit," Olivia managed to announce. "Let's just rearrange a few things."
Now that Elliot had brought it to her attention, Olivia couldn't help but notice. Lizzie and Kathleen just liked to come and stand near her, every so often, and Maureen kept asking her if the place settings were right or if it was better to separate the kids, and even Dickie and Eli seemed to check on her every so often as if making sure that she was still there.
It was strange, and heartwarming, and Olivia was still not comfortable crying in front of people but it was hard not to get choked up.
It was Bernie, of all people, who seemed to understand that Olivia couldn't quite wrap her head around it all.
Olivia was taking a moment to enjoy a hot cup of tea in the corner as she watched them move around. Dinner would be ready soon and she just needed a minute to step back and take it all in.
Bernie stepped into the spot next to Olivia, her own mug of tea still steaming in her hands.
"You give them stability," Bernie muttered without looking at her. "They've always known they could come to you about their father, but now they know they can come to you for themselves. You're the only mama these kids have left." Olivia opened her mouth to say something, to protest maybe, but Bernie waved her words away. "That's not a slight on you or Kathy. I'm not implying either of you is or was less. It's just the way things are. It's not just you and Noah anymore. It's all of us, together."
Olivia didn't know what to say. She knew that Bernie was right, to an extent, and that they'd been moving closer to that day when there was no his place or her place, just theirs, together; that Eli and Noah had spent a lot of time over the last few months getting used to the idea of having each other around permanently. But Olivia had been careful not to force any titles on them or herself or this thing that she and Elliot were doing. She hoped that they would consider themselves brothers, in time, but Olivia had always been Olivia to Eli, or Liv more recently, and she had been careful to let him know that she had no intentions of replacing his mother. That she could not, and would never presume to try.
Olivia also knew that there was no end to her relationship with Elliot. He was it for her, and she for him, and they both knew that. There wasn't going to be a day in the future when they decided that it wasn't working, and they were better off as they were; this was for as much of the rest of their lives that they had left.
It was longer than that, even, because what they had now had been forged decades ago, in precinct bullpens and squad cars and on the streets of Manhattan, and not even a decade apart had managed to erase or unravel it.
They had been together for twenty-four years even if that togetherness had only been fully realized in the last year.
So, Olivia knew that Bernie was right. She wouldn't have brought it up, or even dared think it on her own, but Olivia was it. Kathy was gone. Olivia wasn't their mother, but she was the only maternal figure they had now, and she had loved them all their lives.
"I would never presume," Olivia began, but she wasn't able to finish. Presume what? To act as their mother? To have their best interests at heart? To do her best to take care of this family that she had spent the last two decades trying to help, and protect?
But Bernie scoffed fondly at her and took a drink of her tea. "Don't be ridiculous. You're the matriarch of this family now, Olivia, and you belong with us as much as we belong with you. They'll all tell you that in their own way, if you listen. Lizzie called you this morning, my dear. Not her big sister who makes this meal every year, or her dad, who was there for most of those holidays. She needed mothering, and you gave it to her. Remember that the next time you worry about belonging, will you?"
Bernie gripped Olivia's forearm tightly, reassurance and warmth passing through her touch and the kind smile on her face, and then she left Olivia to her thoughts.
She would think about it all later, though, because not moments later Lizzie was calling her from the kitchen and Noah was begging to know when they could open their stockings, and Olivia found Elliot's eyes across the room even as she stepped back into her role as Manager of the Chaos.
Later, after dinner had been eaten and cleared away and they all sat around the living room with their stockings emptied around them, Elliot slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side to press a kiss to her temple.
"Whatcha thinking about?" he whispered against her skin.
Her hand is resting easily on his thigh and she squeezes gently as she turns her head enough to look into his eyes.
"I wish I could tell her," Olivia whispered. "That night in the car, outside Simon's house. I wish I could go back and tell her that one day she'd have all those things she'd always wanted, and never thought she'd have."
He squeezed her tighter and Olivia closed her eyes, soaking him in. Soaking it all in: that somehow, even after she'd given up all hope of ever seeing him again, he'd not only come back but they'd finally found their way together. That they were surrounded now by their family on Christmas Eve, and that every nightmare and challenge and setback that Olivia had ever faced had not beaten her.
Had not kept her from the love and belonging and family that she'd always wanted.
What she hadn't told Elliot was that she was also thinking of another version of herself that she wished she could go back and reassure: that angry version of her, hurt and lost after he'd disappeared.
Olivia wished that she could go back and tell that woman that she wasn't wrong, or crazy, or making things up; she wished she could tell her that one day her partner had looked at her and realized that she was the woman that he couldn't live without, and even though it would be years before she found that out, the day would finally come.
This day would come, and it would be more than she ever could have hoped for, or dared imagine.
"Merry Christmas, Olivia." The emotion in Elliot's voice was impossible to miss.
"Merry Christmas, El."
She burrowed further into his side, and he tightened his hold on her, and when the kids realized that they'd fallen asleep like that, they covered them with a blanket, put Noah to bed, and left them to their peaceful slumber.