Title: Step At A Time
Author: ZombieJazz
Fandom: SVU
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law&Order: Special Victims Unit and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Jack, Benji and Emmy have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.
Summary: With the fall upon them, Olivia Benson and Brian Cassidy help their young children start a new chapter in their lives. They must work to come to terms with the new challenges and struggles facing them — including Benji's health, middle school, Grade 1 and new developments, colleagues and dynamics at their jobs. All the while they must make the necessary adjustments to their family and work life to operate within their new reality.
The story is set in the Hello Goodbye, Welcome Home, Facing Forward, Best Laid Plans AU.
"You've got me thinking fifty-one is a much worse milestone than the big five-oh," Brian mouthed near silently into Liv's hairline.
Liv had been cuddled against on the couch for the better part of an hour. But she'd been staring off towards their stairs rather than at the show she'd picked on the boobtube.
Brian had let her. He didn't protest much when she came looking for his support and affection. Didn't exactly mind seeping up some of the physicality of just getting to be near to her too. And he could tell she was beat and decompressing. Had been happy to just sit there and stroke at her hair while he watched whatever this was she'd picked this time. All these fucking Scandinavian crime dramas and British period pieces that she was always putting on the TV when she got the control. Supposed it was better than some of the black-and-white, Golden Age of cinema, Fred Astaire shit she'd pick if it was a flick she'd gone for. But Liv really hadn't been watching it that night. Didn't even think she'd been listening to it.
Because he'd only gotten a "Hmm …?" when he'd said it – more like she'd felt the rumble of his vocalizations against his chest than she had clued into anything he'd even said. But at least he had her attention then, so Brian tried again.
"Think I've lost you a little down there," he provided.
He felt her smile a little against his chest that time. She'd heard him.
"What's going on in that rabbit hole?" he asked.
She made another quiet sound that confirmed he'd got her attention. Let out a real slow exhale that sounded a bit more like a sigh.
"Just thinking …," Liv said all wispy-like.
"About?" he pressed gently.
"My mom," she said even more … vacantly?
And his fingers briefly paused in the scrunch it was making through her hair and against her scalp. It took him a second before he relaxed them and started the slow movements again.
Liv pretty much almost never mentioned her Ma. He seriously could likely count on one hand – likely the hand where he was piecing some pieces of his fingers – how many times she'd so much as used the word 'mom' in the context of the woman who'd birthed her. Getting much more than a passing mention? That'd been maybe like two real conversations ever – and they'd been real brief.
"What about her?" he asked carefully, moving his other hand from where he'd been tracing lines along the armrest like he was jotting down dialogue while trying to keep up with the fucking subtitles on the show. But now he found her elbow – held her a bit more closely – and started making some little circles there instead.
"That I'm about to pass the number of years she lived," Liv muttered softly. "She died at fifty-one."
He rested his cheek a bit against her forehead while he processed that. Processed it and tried to figure out how exactly you respond to that.
"That's young …" was what he managed.
And, it was. Funny thing was not so long ago he probably would've thought fifty-one was pretty old. But he also hadn't really been able to imagine himself growing old. These days it was a different story. Parents of a young family. Young kids at home. Fucking mind-boggling that his own mom was coming up on her seventieth. That sounded old but his Ma sure as fuck didn't seem old most of the time. Force of nature. Kinda like Liv. Sure as fuck hoped the both of them had a lot more years in them. Many, many, many more years.
"Sometimes I find myself wondering how she'd feel about the way my life looks at fifty-one," Liv said.
"She should feel proud of you," Brian offered – he tried to go for some assured firmness there.
"She'd definitely have a lot of thoughts and opinions – but I doubt pride would be one of them."
"Fuck that," Brian mouthed against her forehead again.
He felt her smile a little more at that. Felt her fingers scrunch and release at the fabric of his shirt too. But she didn't say anything – and Brian knew he'd likely said the wrong thing in wading through this quagmire.
"I'm proud of you," he offered instead after giving them both a beat.
"I know," she mouthed quietly against his chest.
And he held at her.
"You're an amazing mom – and definitely not your mom, if that's more what you're really thinking about down there," he pressed into her hair.
And there was the feeling of a sad smile against the fabric of his shirt again.
"I'd like to think maybe we would've found some sort of common ground or understanding with me becoming a mom. That it would've been some sort of redo for us. Redo for her with the kids. That maybe she'd would've liked the experience of being a grandma. I think in my fantasy she would've been a lot like your mom as a grandma."
"That sounds more like a nightmare," Brian monotoned.
But it got a quiet amused sound and she shifted a little to give him a look for the first time. It was OK. Brian knew his Ma drove Liv nuts. She fucking drove him nuts too. It sort of worked out. Besides – give-and-take, good-and-bad. Had to take the whole mom-ness of it all to also utilizing the free daycare, afterschool care and babysitting services that her overbearing, boundary-pushing insanity brought along with it.
"You know I appreciate everything your mom does for us," Liv said, looking at him a bit more purposely.
"I know," Brian allowed. "She knows too. Just thought maybe in if you're going to talk about Fairytale Grandmas you might want to more model one after Eileen."
Liv allowed a snort at that. "Dealing with two Nana-Lean's would be its own nightmare too."
Brian smiled a little against her forehead. Tru-dat too. Cragen and his lady friend definitely were a big help too. Good to them and the kiddos. But they could be a little much in their own ways just as much as his mom.
"She wouldn't have been like either of them," Liv whispered, though. "I don't think she would've accepted them as her grandchildren."
"Why not?" Brian hissed a bit defensively – but he knew the answer. Because they weren't 'hers'. But fuck that too.
"She wouldn't have approved," Liv muttered mutely.
"Fuck that," he did say that time. Because really – fuck that.
"Don't you ever worry about – wonder about – where they came from?" Liv asked quietly.
He rubbed his cheek against her head top again. "We know where they came from," he said.
And she exhaled slowly and was quiet. "And don't you think about who and what Emmy's father was? What that made her mother become?"
"Yea, but, we see nature versus nurture with the kids every day, Liv. Feel like we see nurture counts for a lot."
"We're nurture, Bri …," she whispered. "And look at us. Look at Jack."
"Yea, well, not going to comment on Jack, but, Babe, we're both doing OK."
"As broken human beings," she said even more quietly.
It plunged into his chest a bit. So he held her closer to it. "You aren't broken, Liv. Maybe we're both a little fucked up. But we're functional. Everyone comes from something."
"And what about with Benji?"
"What about him?" he asked.
"He had years of nature and nurture before he came home."
"Yea, and now he's had years of nurture here and got years more ahead of him," he contended flatly.
She exhaled again – slowly. "Sometimes I think it's a miracle that I was born … healthy," she finally added after this pause that really hung there. "Given the circumstances."
"You're a survivor, Liv. From the get. You're teaching that to the kids. Resilience."
"You are too …," she allowed.
And they just sat there again. It all just sat there. A whole lot of history and past. So he just held her.
"I worried so much about his development when he first came home. About ADD, AD/HD, fetal alcohol syndrome. Delays socially and developmentally. But then …" She sighed and shook her head a bit against him. "I should've worried more. Stay cognizant – because I can't help but feel like this goes back to his mother's lifestyle choices and that whole … mess. Neglect, abandonment. Abuse. It's the trauma manifesting itself in this … real physical way. And I should've …" and her head shook again.
And he held her tighter. "It's not your fault."
And the air exhaled slowly from her lungs again. "I feel like my … impatience and annoyance with Jack is … I'm projecting some of the blame, anger at him."
"No," Brian said. "He's being an ass-hat. Patience threshold has been reached. He's got to pull his head out of the sand."
And she sighed harder and looked up at him again. "I still don't want him around on the weekend. I feel like … an awful person … mother … about that."
"But how's he gonna to make you feel if he is around this weekend? How's he gonna make it for all of us? For Ben?"
And her head rolled back against his chest again and her cheek rubbed there. "I know you have something planned this weekend," she said. "But, Bri, I don't really think if I want to do much of anything."
"That a pity party talking?" he ventured carefully.
"More like exhaustion," she said.
"You know if we hang around here, Jack's likely going show whether you want him to stop by or not," he told her directly.
"I know …," she acknowledged.
And it was quiet again. He held her more. He focused on the feel of her fingers tracing patterns on his side and pursing the material between her fingertips.
"Promise you'll like it," he whispered into her hair. "And the kids will too. With a minimal amount of kid wrangling. It will be low key."
She allowed a thin smile. "So you've planned another weekend of watching the narwhal-astronaut-firefighting-skateboarding-scientists in the park?"
"Nah, I thought we might change it up," he smiled against her forehead at her little sarcastic jab. "Demonstrate some sophistication suited to a woman your age."
That got a slightly amused and slightly annoyed noise out of her.
"In that case, I'd just like some real Italian, a bottle of red and the kids at your Mom's for the night as my birthday present and outing," she said real low – in that dangerous way that gave him all kinds of ideas.
"Pretty sure all that can still be arranged," Brian said. "Want me get her and the maitre-d on the line now?"
And he felt her smile a little more. "You need to learn anticipation is the best part of the foreplay, Bri."
"Right," he acknowledged and pressed a light kiss into her hair, smelling it. "Not sure that says much about how you feel about my pre-bed game …"
There as another little smile against his chest and then she shifted a bit – looking up at him. At his mouth. He felt it.
"You're an excellent kisser …," she said all raspy-like – and tilted her head just a bit.
Brian took the cue. He leaned in and he enjoyed it. They both let it linger – but it wasn't anything that was going to turn into anything. It was just nice. And just enough. You know, to show each other you were still there – for them, with them – and not going anywhere.
And then she pulled away and settled back down against him. Her arms holding at him a bit tighter.
Brian had known she'd pull away first. That even though she looked for the kiss that she'd keep it brief. He could feel coming off her that they wouldn't be doing much of anything that night. Based on the thoughts and feelings she was expressing about her 51st, doubted birthday sex would be how she wanted to wake up in the morning either. Or wanted a birthday lay on the post-kid gifts, singing and cheesecake the following evening either.
But that was OK. Alone time – date night, all-night – would be good for them too. His Ma would be more than happy to oblige. He already had her on standby. Though, it'd likely be about a week off at this point.
"Unless you want to attempt a weeknight or my cooking somehow can pass as 'real Italian', likely not going to be until next weekend," he told her.
"That's OK," Liv said.
No further clarification on what her preference would be. But it was likely a given that her preference wouldn't be a weeknight. Not lately. Not with kiddos at home and school nights. He'd have to check in with his mom and call around to the couple of the nicer Italian places.
"Alex called today," she said, drawing Brian out of his mental rundown of places he had a chance in hell of maybe getting a reservation for a Friday or Saturday night that would fit Liv's bill.
"She get the day wrong?" he asked.
"No. Trevor had got tickets to the Jack-o-Lantern Blaze but his brother's family cancelled out. She wanted to know if we'd like the tickets?"
"This weekend?"
She shook her head a bit. "Next weekend."
"Oh," Brian sighed inwardly. Of course. And wouldn't be shocked if Liv favored a night with Alex and her tribe over a no-kids date-night. It'd been a while since they'd had the attorneys over – or vice-versa. But it'd also been a good while since they'd gotten the house to themselves for a few hours either. Priorities.
"I think," she exhaled too, like she'd just realized the conflict and choice there too. "I'd have to look at the calendar again. It might be the following."
Brian made a little sound. "Only that things just at night, isn't it?" She made a sound of agreement. "So isn't that kinda brave of them with Leo?"
"I think she said it's for the earliest admission. Six-thirty?"
"Still," Brian muttered. "With Big Man?"
"I know," Liv sighed a little. "I feel like … no one really gets it."
"Yea, well … I guess we have to work at … making sure people get it more."
"Jack doesn't even get it …," she whispered again. "I can't get him to … understand."
"He's not in a place where he wants to understand yet," Brian said a little harshly. But then loosened – softened – his grip on her shoulder and his voice. "It takes a while. Look, even took Mom and Cragen a while to get it. It's being around him. And Jack's not showing up much lately."
"He doesn't understand what that's doing to Benji," Liv whispered. "The feelings of abandonment, the self-worth issues it's bringing to the forefront again."
"His head is up his ass, Liv," Brian said. "We've both said as much to him. It's too far up for us to yank it out for him. He's going to have to decide to do that on his own."
And there was another staggered exhale from her. "You should've seen the way Benji's eyes lit up when I picked him up at school today," she whispered. He smiled into her hair again the way she said it. "He held my hand as we talked to the train, Bri."
"Mmm …," he allowed, rubbing his cheek against her crown. "Yea … no one tells you how awesome that feels, right? I keep feeling like each time he does it anymore is gonna be the last. Like we're on a countdown clock or something."
She made her own small, sad sound of acknowledgement too. "And every time he does it I wonder how with moments like that – from your child – my mother wasn't able to love me."
"She loved you, Liv," Brian tried.
"No, she didn't," Liv whispered. "And I feel like she wouldn't love Benji. Or Emmy. That she'd hate where they came from, or who they are, what they represent. About me, about my choices. About her past. But every time their eyes look at me like that – their little hands find mine like that – the way I feel it …" and her hand touched at her chest. At her heart.
"I hear you …," Brian allowed. Heard her one-hundred percent.
"I still have some of her life insurance money put away," Liv whispered.
"Yea," Brian acknowledged. "The college fund?"
Again there was that quiet sound of acknowledgement. "If the immunoglobulin therapy wouldn't be funded, or fully funded, I want to cash it out, Bri. I want to use it for that."
"But … we kept that money aside for their education …?" he gazed at her.
Liv shifted again and looked at him. "I never wanted to use the money of a woman who wished I didn't exist. A woman I strongly suspect would feel my son shouldn't exist – at least not as my son. But I want Benji to exist, Bri. And thrive. And if this treatment – this money to fund the treatment – can help do that … isn't that the ultimate 'fuck you'?"
He allowed her a sad smile. "You might have a point."
She nodded a bit. "Then that's what I want to do."
"Thank you and fuck you …," Brian whispered.
"And happy birthday to me too …," Liv added at a level he could just barely hear. But he did.
AUTHOR NOTE:
Reviews and comments are appreciated.
Not sure what chapter/scene will be next. Still not sure if I'm going to do a scene from liv's birthday or not.
Still watch for a chapter back in Best Laid Plans. Likely going to complete some fluff over there for a change of pace soon.
