Title: Beauty in the Mundane Moments
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: A series of stand-alone, non-chronological ONE-SHOTS set in Hello Goodbye, Welcome Home, Facing Forward, Best Laid Plans, A Step At A Time, The Night Before AU. Olivia Benson navigates the job, parenthood and marriage while trying to find the difficult work-life-family balance that comes with being a cop.
PLEASE NOTE: These chapters are stand-alone SCENES or one-shots. This is not a chronological story and there is no purposeful continuity. It is just a collection of moments. Some will reflect random ideas or potentially fun, humorous, heavy scenes to write with these characters. Others will expand on a scene from an episode (past or present) or recast the way a scene went while imaging it in this AU. Others will take a kernel from an episode and use it as inspiration for how these characters might've interacted with it going forward. Wherever possible, a year, season number or episode name will be provided to give some context of the general timeframe of the scene — to provide some guidance on where the characters are at mentally/emotionally and the ages of the children.
TIMEFRAME: Set in early-2020, or S21. (Would be placed after the chapter entitled "Unreal Realities" and may be reordered in the future to reflect that.)
"And these are real animal bones?" Brian's Ma asked gazing at Em's piece of black construction paper with the little beige-grey-yellow fragments tacked to it with heaping amounts of still sticky white glue. Her face said it all. All it said was that that realization had just taken this 'craft' project, that was being flashed before her so proudly, to a new level of dismay – if not disgust.
"Jah!" his Ducky said so fucking proudly. "It a vole bird! Daddy! Where dah bone sheet?!"
Brian made a small sound and paced back to the front hall of his Ma's cramped little apartment. He gave a glance at Big Man sitting in the even smaller and more cramped living space. Ben was caught somewhere between figuring out where a piece in the puzzle Mom had out on the coffee table went and staring at the TV.
"You want to show Gramma your skeletal diagram, bud?" Brian asked, as he stooped to retrieve where their daypack – aka Ben's medical go-bag stuffed with other crap they collected along the way – had landed when they'd come in the door. He leaned a bit into the door as he grabbed it.
He could still hear Liv murmuring and pacing outside it. She should've moved at least to the first landing of the stairs if she really didn't want the whole floor to at least hear parts of her conversation. She sounded bordering on annoyed. He wasn't going to be surprised if when she did come back in it was just to stay she needed to head into Manhattan to deal with whatever it was her staff couldn't handle or necessitated on-site supervision.
Ben still hadn't replied when he'd straightened and he stared at the kid again. Giving him a good measure. The kid was real hunched over on his knees. He wasn't sure if that was out of pain or fatigue. It was possible they'd maybe overdone it a bit that day. Though, physical Big Man had seemed to be holding his own while they were at the Nature Center. Mentally and emotionally was a different story. And they'd all been taking some of the brunt of it.
"Ben," he called at the kid again and stared at him until he got a stray glance that at least told him Big Man knew he was standing there and talking to him. But the kid was also doing his best not to talk to him or look at him. They were definitely getting some of the tween behavior that weekend. Brian wasn't a big fan of it. Neither was Liv. Practice in patience. "You hurting?" That at least got the slightly shake of the head. Barely. "Come show your grandma your skeleton diagram," he said again but that barely got even a listening sound. But, again it was enough of a sound that he knew the kid wasn't going to do it.
Brian gave him a bit of a head tilt. A stare. But Ben did his utmost to not look at him. Though, Brian knew he could see it. Right there out of his side-eye. Couldn't hide when he was doing that. Ever. Didn't want to put on too much of a show for his Ma, though. So just gave the kid a real head shake. One that he made sure was a sign of his disapproval and a warning against acting out too much at Gramma's place. But then he just left it, pacing back to the kitchen and setting the bag on the little diner-esque table set up as a two-seater that she'd had about as long as he could remember her being in that place. So occupying a chunk of his growing up at least.
He knew Ma would have him pulling the out from the wall and working against its age to get it to fold up. Send him digging the card-table chairs from under her couch for them all to huddle around, elbowing each other during the dinner.
Since Liv and the kids Ma had repeatedly talked about getting something bigger for family dinners. But he didn't know where she thought she'd put it. And she must've come to the same conclusion because it had never appeared even if she always apologized and lamented the need for it when they did eat over there. A whole lot of the time after he'd managed to get it expanded and the chairs around it, she'd just decide it was going to be too crowded. The thing would end up as a buffet of sorts to place pots on and self-serve from. Then she'd shove everyone into the living space. Letting the kids stake a claim on their asses with their plates at chin level on the coffee table while the rest of them balanced their plates on their knees while they ate.
"And where'd these bones come from?" Ma was asking Em, giving him a look of disbelief. He was pretty sure she'd actually already asked Em that question and she was looking at him with the hope he'd give another answer.
"OW-ILL PILL-ITS!" Em said, still seeping with enthusiasm.
"Owl pellets?" she asked cautiously and shook her head giving him another look. "Please tell me that's not bird poop?"
"NO!" Em bounced up on her knees in the chair. "It puke!"
Brian got a real look from his mom before she looked back to the little girl that time.
"Owl puke?"
"Jep!" Em beamed.
Brian pulled the sheets they'd been given for the bone identification process that the kids had been given while they dissected their pellet and then glued together a diagram of their ingested animal. And then he put Ben's on the table too.
"That's Ben's," Brian muttered.
Big Man had taken less artistic and scientific liberty with his than Em had. But its pretty unmistakeable splaying of a rodent – even to an untrained eye – had only made his Ma cringe more.
Ducky grabbed at the identification sheet and spread it out next to her skeleton project.
"My ow-ill eat a vole and a bird," she said confidentially but added, "I think." But then she pointed proudly from the bone identification sheet to the bones swimming in glue on her paper. "See … dat, dat and dat, dat."
Ma just cringed more. But Em looked up at her just glowing with pride.
"So I make a vole bird," she said. "It base-ick-ally a new 'pee-cees. It science." She tugged at Ben's and stared at it for a long moment. "Ben-gee's a rodent. Prolly a just mouse," she nodded. "Not a new 'pee-cees."
"And they collect these out of owl puke for you?" Ma gaped a bit more.
"Nooooo!" Em corrected and Brian got another look. He gave his Ma a shrug to that one. "Gamma! Day give you ow-ill pill-its. Dat dah puke! Den we die-sect dem!"
The eyes Brian got that time definitely had some disapproval to them. "You let them dissect owl vomit?"
Brian shrugged. "The rangers or whatever did. Supervised activity."
"IT SOOOOOOOO AWESOME!" Em said and leaned against the table to stare at her diagram some more. "Gamma, da ow-ills can't die-jest dah fur or bones. Just flesh. Day puke up dah rest."
And the look stayed on him. "And you think it's a real good idea to be letting Benjamin dissect owl vomit with all this coronavirus going around right now?"
Brian returned the look and give her a head cock with it. "Last time I checked it's not a bird flu pandemic, Ma."
She shook her head. "Last time I checked it doesn't sound like they know much of anything about any of it – to be letting that boy and his immune system anywhere near it."
"They wore gloves and goggles," he pressed at her. Didn't much like getting his parenting assessed. "And washed their hands before and after. I'd say it was way more sanitary than spending five days a week surrounded by ten to fourteen year-olds, Ma."
She gave her head another shake. "And did Alex let little Leo do this activity?"
That got a real eyeroll out of him. Like Alex – and their Upper East Side lifestyle somehow set some kind of standard or example in parenting.
"Yea, Mom," he said. "She did."
He left out that it was Trevor who was the one who seemed a whole lot more interested in the activity – and sat there picking through the clumps of fluff that Leo had done little more than rip apart with the tweezers searching for bones.
But that seemed to be how their whole marriage and parenting dynamic worked. Weekend outings outside the city were at Trevor's suggestion. In this case clumped in with a visit to the guy's family in New Haven, which always seemed to put Alex in a sour mood. So, Brian didn't doubt that the two had had some sort of something or words in the car before they'd met up at the Greenburgh Nature Center for their Sunday.
Their attempts at joint family outings were always fucking awkward. He got the vibe was that Trevor busted his ass to keep bringing home the pay check for the lifestyle they were accustomed to – and the job, income and week-day absences had caused some resent and strain in that family. Always seemed like Alex stood back and let Trevor do the whole parenting thing like she was making some kind of statement. Entitled to a weekend break? That she was off Mom Duty?
Brian didn't really get it. But he stayed the fuck out of it. Even kept his commentary to Liv to a minimum there. Though, she'd definitely brought it up on her own. And she clearly found the get-togethers awkward enough too that she was pretty good at finding excuses to keep them down to a few a year. At least ones that weren't just at each other's places. Brian usually was the one coming up with excuses for when they got an invite uptown. Spending any time in their space – and lifestyle – was its own kind of awkward.
"And Olivia?" Ma pressed.
"Ma, c'mon," he shook his head. "You know Liv's hands on. We've both dealt with a lot worse than some owl puke."
Liv loved getting right up to her elbows with the kids on all the science experiments and craft projects. Sometimes she was almost funnier to watch than the kids. Her look of amazement at some of the outcomes of these activity day things they took their kids to pretty much outdid the kiddos look of sheer glee at their discovery. But Brian would give that all this STEM and STEAM stuff anymore sure put science class to shame compared to when they were growing up. He didn't exactly blame the kids for being so into this shit. It was sure presented in a lot shinier package than forty years ago. Imagine that.
He was pretty sure Liv would've liked to have had her own owl pellet to pick apart. But it wasn't exactly the cheapest add-on activity. But it never was. That was sometimes how they got you at these things. Get you in there on the cheap but then unless you were only planning on doing the nature walk they nickel and dimed you all day. So they'd settled on buying the three pellet pack for the three kids to share. It'd still been fucking twenty-five bucks – which still seemed like a little much for owl puke and a bunch of bones glued to a piece of construction paper. But at that price Liv had settled for just helping Big Man out and combing through the bits of his discarded pellet.
Truth was she likely would've had more fun working on the activity with Em that day. But him and Ben just weren't jiving too well. So had kept their distance. And Liv had settled again for getting to watch Em's excitement and amazement from across the table. That probably had its good points too, though. She'd had her camera out a lot documenting the whole moment. Because what family didn't need pictures of their kids picking through owl puke to go on their mantel?
His mom sighed at him. "I just thought you were going to some maple syrup festival …" she muttered, staring at the takeaways from their outing.
"Yea," he grumbled a bit at her and dug out a small jug of the real stuff they'd picked up for her. She'd definitely been sure to express in the lead-up to this outing that she had wanted to be invited. The kids had been so wowed by their sugar bush outing a couple years ago, could tell she wanted in on it this time around. But given the way she was going at him now, Brian was pretty glad they had side stepped letting her in on their Sunday after the Alex and Trevor dynamic was brought into the mix. That'd been more than enough without his Mom's commentary and body language being there too. "Did that too."
"Dat whaz co-ill too," Em said. "We learn how all dah cent-juries make seer-ip."
"Not quite," Brian shook his head but saw his mom looking to him for more. Live vicariously through them. "They had it set up good," he allowed. "Trail through the sugar bush. Learn about the tapping and then different stations set up to show how the Native Americans would've done the sugar water thing and then the Colonials before getting into their modernized sugar shacks. The big boilers."
"It science too," Em provide. "It e-vap-er-egg-shin."
"Yea," Brian allowed. "It was interesting. Way more educational than the last one we went to. Learned a lot. Right, Ducky?"
"Jep," she allowed. "And we see sap in dah buckets. And we eat cornbread and pour-idge. And den day make mape-ill candy and taffy in the old-in times. Day pour it on dah snow! It sooooo yuuuuummmm! Dah best-est!"
Brian gave his mom a look before she could even give him one. "It was poured over shaved ice. Not snow. To harden."
It got another little headshake. Disapproval. Basically like he'd let the kids pick up snow that some dog had pissed on and put it in their mouths. But Em didn't even notice.
"Den we eat pancakes!"
"That was highway robbery," Brian muttered and found his Mom's eyes that time. "Forty-five bucks for a stack of pancakes and some sausage. Round of hot drinks."
That did get a look of terror from his mom. Another reason it was best she hadn't been with them that day. She always started fretting when she saw them spending money. Brian got it. There hadn't been a lot of it growing up. His mom still didn't have much. It made you frugal. And she'd always bristled – even him with him as an adult in a unionized, decent paying job – when he opened his wallet. She'd become even more conscious about it – when he was spending money on her – since Big Man was sick. She was always checking in to make sure him and Liv were handling the financial implications of all of it OK. Not that he was too sure what she'd do about it if they weren't. Guessed maybe after working as an administrator in an accountant's office for most of her working years she thought she'd at least be able to make some calls to get someone to navigate government forms and potential write-offs at tax time.
But Brian knew that day his Ma would've been uncomfortable with the nickel and diming that'd gone on. Parking fee and admission fee and then a fee for the Maple Towne Sugar Bush and then paying for the pancakes and then paying for the horse wagon ride back to the main building and then extra admission to get the kids into the play barn and the playground and then the final fee to dissect the owl pellets. Well, the final fee before Liv had been suckered into buying the kids maple suckers when she was picking up the bottles of the syrup to bring home. Because apparently you couldn't ingest enough maple syrup in one day.
Reality was it probably hadn't cost any more than a day at a city museum or zoo – especially if it involved any kind of special exhibit or add-on activity and lunch. This place had just annoyed him slightly more when it felt like he was pulling out his wallet every twenty minutes the entire time they were there. Would've preferred they just asked you what you wanted to do and paid it all upfront at the gates. And he knew his Ma would've been cringing too and trying to contribute if she'd been with them. But she had the same sort of cringe the times she'd come up to the Bronx Zoo with them. About a $120 those days – and that wasn't including parking, the near fucking obligatory carousel ride or feeding the family.
It was definitely a good reminder about why his mom had only managed to take him to that kind of shit a handful of times in his own childhood. Least he had that. Liv's Ma might've made a decent living up at Columbia but sure as hell hadn't bothered to do much of anything with her as a kid. Likely explained a whole lot about why Liv was all about the museums and galleries now. Living up in that part of town and never doing any of it until she was old enough to steal away on her own. Though, also sounded like she was doing that by about twelve and it'd taken a long time for her Ma to even notice – or care – she'd disappear for fucking hours at a time. Supposed it was hard to notice when your head was up your ass in your own misery and you were a fall-down drunk. And supposed him and Liv had both had to work on not turning into some variation of either of those things for their kids either.
But the fucking reality was family outings to about anywhere but the park or beach weren't cheap in the city. A whole lot of families priced out of them. Their kids were lucky in a whole lot of ways. But maybe that was part of the reason him and Liv did that kind of stuff with them. Beyond it not being reflective of their own childhoods and them having the means to do this kind of shit with the kids, they were pretty starkly aware that if they hadn't adopted Ben and Em they'd be the kids who never got to do this kind of stuff. Ever. So, yea, they were doing their best to give their kids a childhood.
"Dare pancakes way bigger den Daddy's," Em said. "Day take up dah whole plate!"
"Yea," Brian gave her a small smile and eased into the seat across from her. At least they'd gotten about as close as you could get to your money's worth in terms of size when it came to pancakes. "So big your belly was full before you even put away one there, Ducky."
"Jah," Em acknowledged. "But I 'lil. And I eat dah sauce-age."
"That you did," Brian rolled his eyes a little a gave his Mom another look. "She'd packed them all away before me or Liv even had a chance."
"I pre-ten-ing I a rap-er," Em said, "and day voles."
Brian shared another little smile with his mom and gave another little eye roll.
"And is that why we're watching Jurassic Park?" his Ma directed more over at Ben on the couch than Em. Brian could tell she was likely hoping that Big Man heard and gave her a response and some attention. But that didn't happen.
"Jah," Em said on his behalf, though. "And cuz we go to the rap-er cages," she said.
Brian got another look from his mom at that. He gave a little gesture. "Raptors," he said. "Like birds of prey. Owls. Hawks. Eagles. Had quite the collection going there."
"Ahh …," Ma allowed. Like it was all coming together now. Sometimes it always took a bit with Em. Or any six-year-old.
"Jah," Em said again. "Day live dare cuz day hurt and can't live in dah for-ist anymore. But day still very, very awesome. We learn all bout dem. And see dem fly. And eat mice. And learn day used ta be dinos. Like dah rap-ers. Dat why the rap-ers rap-ers."
Brian gave his Mom a shrug at that. But she allowed him a smile. He knew her sun rose and set on Ben and Em. She loved being a grandma.
"We play in dah play-gown too. It had a bird nest. So you could be an ow-ill."
"Or eagle," Brian suggested. "Think it was supposed to be the dimensions of a real bald eagle's nest there, Em."
"No, an ow-ill," Em corrected stubbornly. "An in dah barn you could use hay to make a nest too. But Leo and Ben-gee just wanna pet the animals. Leo was very a-fade of dah goats."
"One thought the back of his jacket looked pretty tasty," Brian explained. "It gave it a good gnaw and took Leo for a bit of a tumble. Took him by surprise."
"Aw, poor little guy," Mom frowned.
"Dah hor-ises really like Ben-gee. Day came run-in to see him and only let him pet dare nose. Day kept back-in way when I try. It was not fair."
"Yea, well, the chickens really appreciated you making nests for them," Brian provided.
Because he really didn't want to wade into the whole minor spaz out when the horses wouldn't get close enough to the fence for Em to pet them but kept coming right up when she was off doing something else and Big Man was still feeding them. He'd seem pretty taken with them. At least until he spotted a big barn cat that had taken just as much of a liking to him – but also took off as soon as Leo and Em decided they were going to get in on that action. Couldn't say he entirely blamed the cat, though.
But Brian also thought that maybe that'd been a bit of a fall-out point in the day for Ben. They always had to be a little careful around the whole barn and farm-yard smells thing. Part of the reason they didn't get out to Eileen's son's hobby farm too much. It usually incited meltdowns in the kid. Brian didn't think the kid even really knew or understood what was happening when it did happen. That he was triggering somewhere back in his lizard brain there. Buried memories digging their way up to his consciousness in a way he didn't know how to process.
Big Man knew he'd been born on a farm. But didn't think he'd made the connection between that – and all those experiences in his first four years of life – and why he suddenly got so emotionally turbulent any time they ended up near any kind of farm-type setting. How it tipped over into fucking unmanageable if there was the smell of the animals and the manure.
So him and Liv usually steered him clear. But Ben had been really taken with the horses pulling the wagon to take them back to the main buildings after their maple exhibition. It was like the kid was having some sort of fascinated stare down with the things. And like the horses were giving him full attention too. It was kind of weird.
Brian didn't think the kid really fully remembered that there'd been horses in his toddler years either. He actually almost fucking prayed to God – and he didn't pray – that Ben didn't. Not when he knew that memory included a teenaged kid having to try to keep a kid who wasn't much more than a baby warm in a fucking barn. Ben did know he had a 'horse blanket' from his Ma – and that it was one of his prized possessions. Brian wasn't sure the kid entirely understood the story around all that. But that was likely best too. Though, he'd heard the G-rated version enough to know that his mother had had a horse on the farm and that Jack had really wanted horse blankets for them to have back in the city. It always got recited like the thing was some sort of special gift from Jack or some sort of last gift from his mother. Not something Liv had done for the two kids.
It irked Brian a bit. But he also recognized that some sort of parable had to be given when Ben was little but was old enough to have memories of his mother and the farm. Even if they were kind of faded flickers. And the rest of it was built around these things that had gotten repeated to him over the years. Frustrating thing was that Ben was getting older now and it seemed like he was starting to realize that the stories he'd been told – the memories he had – weren't exactly the whole truth or reflective of the reality. And it was getting harder to figure out how to frame any of that in an age appropriate way.
They had enough shit going on with Ben lately that they didn't need a visit with the barn-yard animals to trigger him on top of raising more nearly unanswerable questions. So Liv had hung back with Big Man when Leo and Ducky had wanted to go charging at full speed into the barn to terrorize the animals and rip apart the hay bales. That'd been about the only point in the day that Alex had put on a bit of her own show with over-protective Mommy meltdown and telling-off of her other-half. A whole lot of "allergies", "asthma", "breathing" comments coming out of her. And a whole lot of dragging the kid away from things. So there was some wailing too – even before the goat had given him a yank. That was about the end of the play-time for Leo, though. Alex's line in the sand that resulted in her and Trevor standing off having some kind of clear bicker going on while their kid put on a real production with the tears and screams and Alex tried to wipe off all the mud, slush, hay and animal feed that had managed to get stuck all over the kid. Trevor had pretty much stormed off. Brian actually thought he might've been going to cool down somewhere. But the guy had reappeared with the standard change of kiddie clothes you ended up dragging around with you with kids that age. And then had taken the hand of Leo and his alligator tears at that point to take a hike over to the johns to get him changed out. Bit of a scene there.
But it'd given some time for Ben to get taken with the horses out in the pen next to the barn. Apparently Liv had decided that was a safe bet and had walked over with him to look at the creatures at the fence. The horses had seem real taken with Ben too. Come right over while he was there and let him and Liv stroke at them. They weren't doing that for a whole lot of other people and were backing away when they were getting too much attention from people that weren't Big Man. So maybe he was a bit of a horse whisperer. Liv had floated before that maybe some animal therapy might be good for Big Man. She'd looked into the whole horse thing. Some programs up at Prospect Park that she thought might be good for him. Some dog stuff too. Things she thought might help him cope with some of his anxiety and an outlet to deal with the bullying. Unconditional love and respect. In a way.
But Brian would also say Ben's behavior had changed a bit after the horse petting there. He'd noticed it. But hadn't said anything. It wasn't like Ben was in the best mood, period, lately. And beyond that all the kids were getting little squirrelly at that point in the day. Tired. Sugar crash. So it hadn't been too long after it they'd all packed up and headed back into the city.
Brian had kind of hoped they kids would sleep on the drive back. And that they'd be in a bit better moods by the time they got to Ma's so there wouldn't be putting on a late matinee performance. But hadn't really won the lottery on either account there.
"Jah," Em sighed and leaned on the table staring at her skeleton diagram again – poking at some of the globs of glue like they were slime. She'd used enough you would've thought she was trying to make some new kind of crunchy slime. Likely could almost bunch up the paper and have some as it still was. "Daddy, maybe I have a bird-owl-pellet biff-day?"
He gave her a bit firmer look. "That instead of the rock-insect theme?"
"Mmm …," Em thought about it. Hard. Her whole face scrunched up with it like it was some real equation she had to figure out there.
"Oh, well, I don't know about owl pellets, Emily," Ma said, "but I've seen some really cute owl party decorations."
There was way too much hopefulness in that near plea. Em looked at her grandma. She'd definitely sensed it too in her own little way. And then she looked back at Brian.
"Rock-insect-bird-owl-pellet science part-ee?" she tried. And gave him those eyes. She was really trying to work her little girl magic on Daddy there.
"Hey, we've talked about this," he warned again with Dad Mode tone. "We're working at getting your birthday down to one theme – not adding more to it."
And she looked at him again with that innocent look. "But it all science, Daddy," she stated so matter-of-factly. Like she'd really gotten one over on him. "It a science part-ee."
Brian gave his head a little shake. "Not if it's a rock-insect-bird-owl pellet party it's not. C'mon. You've got to figure this out soon."
"Jah," Em nodded. "So we send out in-vit-ations to evey-one!"
"So your grandparents know what to expect," he corrected. And him and Liv knew what sort of fucking Mission: Impossible she was sending them on for a birthday balloon and themed cake plates and party hats that year.
So far none of her chosen themes looked like anything they'd be able to buy in fucking Party City unless they got real abstract. Black plates for all. It's a piece of coal. Tah-dah. Same for the ballons. Big black one. And any of Em's paper-maiche pretty much could end up looking like a rock easy. He was clearly rooting for this rock party thing. Hell, thought they could find some real 'rock' (and roll) decorations and talk around it into some kind of compromise with the kid. Tell her she 'rocked'. Right …
"And Dack and Ran-knee and Unkie Munchie," she said.
"Yea, them too," he acknowledged.
"Auntie Al-ix and Unkle Tav-er and Leo and Unkle Raffi and Auntie Manda and Unkle Son-ee and Desse and Bill-ee and Unkle Finn," she added. "And he can bing Ken and Ell-hand-o and Jay-den too if he want. And Auntie Mir-and-duh. If he want."
"What happened to us just having your grandparents over for dinner and cake?" he tilted his head at her. "We talked about that."
"Mommy said it a fam-ee part-ee. So dat dah fam-ee," she nodded at him firmly.
"Ah," Brian said with a bit of an eyeroll.
That's what happened last year. Non-party party again. That wasn't exactly a birthday party. More like a dinner party for all Liv's friends and work associates. So he was pretty sure new names would be ending up on the list this year. He'd have to talk to her about that. And get her to have the conversation with Ducky that this was not what had previously been discussed. Not that that would happen. So it probably wasn't even worth mentioning.
"Daddy, maybe we have pancakes and sauce-age too at the part-ee," she said.
Oh. Yea. Everyone would love that. Fuck, and yea, he'd definitely love trying to make enough pancakes to serve like the twenty people she'd just listed off.
"OR LUCKY CHARMS!" she corrected herself and looked at him excitedly. "Daddy, day have unicorn marsh-mellows!"
"Yea, Em, somehow I don't think we can afford to feed all those people Lucky Charms. They're expensive. And not gluten-free. Your brother and I couldn't have them." He copped out.
"But it my biff-day," she pouted at him.
He gave her a shrug. "Just cuz it's your birthday doesn't mean me and your Ma can manage everything you want, Em. You've got to be realistic about this."
He got a squint eye and a pout.
"You're acting tired," he warned. Standard line for cut it out or face the consequences. Time out pending whether you like it or not.
"No, I hun-grey," Em pressed at him, rocking against the table with her contradiction.
"You're hungry after eating all that sausage and half of a pancake bigger than your head?"
"Mhes!" she pressed again.
And Mom was already over at the fridge and retrieving a container. She popped off the lid and held it out at Ducky.
"There," she said. "That will soak up some of that maple sugar you've got running through your veins today."
Em gazed into the container of little oatmeal and nut butter protein balls that had become a bit of an afterschool snack staple for the kids. She carefully went about picking the biggest one.
"Take one to your brother," Mom nudged her. "See if they help you two piece together anymore of that puzzle for me."
Em took zero interest in choosing the next biggest one – just randomly grabbed a second and was off the chair trotting over to the couch.
"Look wha I got," he heard Em say.
And he watched his Mom smile, as she moved over to the counter where she had been working on peeling some potatoes before Em had started regaling her with the play-by-play of their day. But just as quickly her smile faded.
"Benjamin," she raised her voice. She had on Mom tone. And Brian knew that Ben had definitely done something to be a shit if he'd gotten a tone like that.
So he was up and staring down Ben too. Giving him the cocked head.
"She grabbed my piece right from me," Ben blurted angrily.
"Puzzle piece," his mom clarified quietly from behind him. But he appreciated that clarification – so he didn't go ripping into Em about taking her brother's snack.
"He pushed me!" Em added to the clarification.
Brian tilted his head a bit more – keeping firm eyes on Ben. Ben stared back at him at first but then flinched, looking away.
"You don't push your sister," he pressed firm. "You don't push or touch anyone that way."
"Jah!" Em said and put right up into Ben's personal space. His arm went up again. He stopped himself, so it wasn't exactly a push, but it definitely almost resulted in Ducky taking an elbow to the face.
"Hey," he said and pointed at them both that time. "Opposite ends of the couch. Now."
It got a bit of a glare from both the kids but he had enough of a Dad Tone going they both moved. And mirrored their body language – likely without knowing it – crossing their arms and putting on a real pout.
"Now I can't even reach the puzzle," Ben grumbled.
"You wanted Jurassic Park on. I put it on. Watch the movie," Brian gravelled at them. "Both of you. Quietly."
The crossed arms bounced trying to display their disgust. But they listened. For the moment.
Brian moved back into the kitchen and leaned against the counter by the skin. It was his standard position in the kitchen when his mom got him cornered there growing up. Or maybe more in her permanent recital that he was her dishwasher. Seemed like a lot of days of the week he still was when he was picking up the kids after work. Sort of figured it was the least he could do. She did a lot for him still. For the kids.
But right now getting cornered there was more of a self-cornering. It was so he could see her but still keep an eye on the kiddos. Make sure they weren't stirring up shit with each other again. Got the sense that they both might be in the mood to go cruising that night.
"Sorry," he offered to his Ma.
She just gave him a bit of a knowing shrug. She'd raised him. She knew what it was like. And she knew what Ben and Em could be like too. Took them for enough after-school hours to have seen it all.
"He's in a bit of a mood today," she did say, though, and gave him a bit of a look – and that once-over of hers that was still such a mom thing to do.
"Yea," he sighed and scrubbed at his face a bit. He stared at the kids a bit. Right now they were just staring at the movie. But could also see that Ben was still fuming a bit. But he'd curled himself up on the couch – hugging at his knees – like maybe he really was hurting but just wasn't going to tell any of them. Or at least not tell him. He'd wait until his Ma came back in the door.
"Is the lupus flaring?" his Ma asked. "With all these flu bugs going around and all this weather up and down?"
"Yea," he muttered and then shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."
He knew it wasn't the right thing to say to his Ma. It'd get her all worked up. And get her at him about staying on top of the numbers coming back from Ben's tests and on top of the doctors about what it all meant and checking Ben's vitals multiple times a day. So they didn't get a repeat of Christmas. Even though all of that would do fucking zero to protect them from having another flare like Christmas. It was all just a crapshoot.
And he didn't think it was a flare – even if it might be some joint pain and some fatigue – anyways. But that just made him exhale and rubbed at his face some more.
He lowered his voice a bit. "I don't know. There's this kid at school who's been asking a lot of questions and making some comments about the whole adoption thing. It's got Ben asking a lot of questions about his sperm donor."
His mom gave him another look. Another examination. "Well, he's asked questions like that before …"
"It's different this time, Ma," Brian sighed out with a shake of his head. "They're bigger questions. It's got him confused and kind of triggering. He's not loving our answers."
"Well … how are you answering?" she asked.
Brian scrubbed his face again. "I don't know," he muttered. "How do you answer questions like that?"
"Well, you and Olivia must've known he'd have these questions eventually."
He tilted his head at her. "Yea, Ma. We did. But we hadn't exactly come up with some canned answer. And I don't know how the hell you answer the who, what, where for an eleven-year-old. He's not old enough to hear the answers. Or understand them without them … screwing him up more. And he's not young enough for us to keep giving him some scripted line."
"Well …," she tried again, "can't Jack help you with the script?"
"No, Ma, he can't," Brian spat a little but then lowered to a hissed whisper. "Because Jack's fucking traumatized with whatever the hell all went on in that house too. Because his sister was a junkie who spread her legs to get a fix. And then had men piling on her for freebies on the merry-go-round. As far as we can tell. OK? There's more men than Jack can even tell us. Likely than we want to think about. And we're just fucking lucky that all that's wrong with him is all that's wrong with him after that start. So, if you've got any bright ideas on how to explain that to an eleven-year-old, you let me know."
She gazed at him. There was a mix of concern and hurt on her face.
"Olivia must know how to explain it …?" she offered.
Brian tilted his head farther. "Right, thanks," he muttered. "I think he's already decided that on his own. We're working the same fucking script. But her delivery is better. And, right now, I'm the bad guy in this somehow. Suddenly some kind of lying scum. Getting my fucking heart broken daily."
"That's because you are his dad, Brian," she told him gently.
"Yea, well, in this case I think there's a whole lot better people for him to be pissed at than me," he muttered.
"It's always easier to take it out on the people we know love us the most, Brian," she said. "We usually know – or at least hope – they aren't going anywhere. And I've got confidence you can handle an eleven-year-old boy."
Brian just exhaled and leaned against the counter more. Staring at the kids.
It wasn't just Ben all this shit was triggering. It sure felt like it was dragging up a lot of his own shit too. Memories from childhood. Thoughts about his own father. For Liv too. Creating discussions and conflicts and tension in approaches between him and Liv too. Ones they didn't need.
"Is Olivia alright out there?" his mom asked, drawing Brian's eyes back to her.
He shrugged. "Yea, sure."
"She knows she really doesn't have to go outside to take a call," she said.
Brain gave another dismissive missive with his shoulders. "She likely doesn't want the kids to hear the shop talk. And, I think SVU caught something yesterday she figures my team might usually end up with when it makes it way to court. Don't get the sense SVU will be doing a hand-off. So my guys will have to recluse. So she's keeping out of my earshot too so the lawyers don't go crying about conflicts of interest and tainted investigation, etcetera."
Mom made a listening sound and Brian watched as Big Man wandered into the kitchen and went straight for the fridge – making sure not to make any eye contact with him on the way.
"Hey, what you after there, bud?" Brian asked.
"Juice," Ben said flatly, already reaching for the container even though Mom was already turning to get it and pour it for him. Always the doting grandma.
"Yea, no," Brian said firmly and got a real glare from the kid that time. "You've had enough sugar today, Big Man. It's not good for your inflammation or immune system. OK? Water," he nodded at the sink behind him. "Your grandma's making dinner."
Ben scanned the counter, his eyes setting on the peeled potatoes. "It's my week to pick Sunday dinner and dessert."
"If we were at home, sure," Brian said. "We aren't. You'll get to pick next week."
Ben gave him another glare and then directed it to his grandma. "What's for dinner?"
"Shepherd's Pie," Ma smiled at him.
Big Man went real squint eye at the potatoes. "Mom makes it with yams and spicy ketchup."
"Well, I make it with potatoes and melty cheese," Ma told him a bit more directly.
More squint eye. "What's for dessert?" Ben near demanded.
"I found a really easy gluten-free brownie recipe for all of us to try," she said.
Ben made a face. "I don't like chocolate cakes. Dad does." It got a glare directed his way. "She's making all the grossest stuff you like."
"Benjamin, you shouldn't talk to your father like that," Ma said.
It got a look. An 'if looks could kill' look. "He's not my father," Ben spat. "He's just my dad."
Ma looked at him for a long beat. "Well, it'd say that's a pretty big job that demands a little bit of respect out of a boy who is more than old enough to know his manners around adults."
Ben just glared at her. "I'm not eating your disgusting dinner. I hate all of it."
"Hey, Brian barked. "Don't talk to your grandma like that. She doesn't run a restaurant. You eat what's on the table or you don't eat."
"I already said I'm not eating," Ben pressed at him with eyes.
Brian kept the eyes right on him – until Ben squirmed under them. And then he pointed off at the wall below the window in the living space.
"You aren't being very good company. So you aren't going to get to keep us company. Go. Sit. You nose against that wall. I don't want to see you looking at the TV and I don't want to hear a peep out of you – unless it's to apologize to your grandma."
"She's not even my—"
Brian didn't let him get that venom out. "One …." Ben didn't budge. "Two." Still didn't move. "Three. Three dollars gone," he nodded at him. "Barely started the week, Ben. How many bucks you want to be out of?" Ben faltered a bit and Brian pointed again. "Not a word until it's a whole lot of 'sorries'. With meaning."
Ben stood there. His eyes glassed a bit while he tried to stand his ground. They shifted into panicked, tired gaze. His lip trembled a bit and the kid bit at it to try to hide it. He always did.
"Can I have the water …," he whispered so quietly that it was almost mouthed. "My knees hurt …"
Brian stared at him a beat. He weighed if it was a pity attempt that Ben sometimes pulled with the lupus crap. But he didn't think so. There'd been signs since even before they left the Nature Center that he was fatiguing and he'd definitely seen some indication that his knees were aching since they'd been at Mom's place. Dehydration would make it worse.
So he reached and opened the cupboard to get a big glass and filled it up. He held it and stared at Ben again before handing it over.
"You're going to get the pillow and the blanket off the couch," he instructed him. "You're going to lay down facing that wall. You're going to rest and think about how you've been acting here. How you're treating people. Then you're going to get up, tell us how you feel about all that. And you're going to sit down at the table and have dinner with us. We let you have too many sweets today. And you're over tired. Period."
Ben just gazed at him. Still biting at his lip.
He handed out the glass. "Go," he said as Ben took it.
He watched the kid slowly walk back to the couch, stopping and taking glugs of the water. But then when he got there he did what he'd been told – retrieved the blanket and the cushion and lay down, even ignoring his sister's initial 'you're in trouble' and then her attempts to help him make his nest and tuck him in.
"Ducky," Brian called at her. "Leave him alone. He's taking a time out."
She didn't listen. She pulled the blanket up over his shoulder and then patted at it.
Brian didn't pretend to entirely understand the whole sibling dynamic. He didn't really get what Ben and Em had. He knew he never entirely would. He just didn't have that kind of relationship in his life as a reference point. It confused the shit out of him how Liv and her half-'brother' had any kind of dynamic too. Or with them more some sort of genetic imperative that drew them together and then Liv's personality that made her vulnerable to … trying to help. Trying to fight for people beyond saving. But he could only comment on that so much too.
What he did know was that Em was a good sister. And Ben could be a good brother too. They both cared about each other. And took care of each other. Even after bickering and nattering and out right fighting like they were in some kind of death brawl complete with bruises and tears and wide mouth wails. And then just as easily the next second the two of them would be engaged in a scene like this. Em and her Bubba and Ben and his Ducky.
It was sweet. But it was hard to manage sometimes. At least he knew – hoped – that later in life he could have some relief in knowing they'd have each other. They'd look out for each other. Or at least he hoped that was the way it'd work out.
But he wasn't going to let that go through a test run right then.
"Em," he called again. "Watch the movie."
"But I didn't see dah start," Em said.
"Then work on the puzzle," Brian instructed. "Sit on the couch. We're all taking some quiet time."
It got a little huff out of her but she did plop on the couch and sat bouncing on its edge staring at the puzzle again.
Brian shifted his eyes back to his mom. He was about to issue another apology but she shook her head.
"You don't need to," she said.
He exhaled and watched the kids to make sure things didn't escalate again. "Sure this was just the kind of Sunday Dinner you wanted."
She gave him a little shrug. "We all have our off-days," she said.
Brian just grunted some acknowledgement. But it sure felt like they were having a lot of them lately.
"Have you told the school about these kids bothering him about being adopted?" she asked. "I'm sure other children must be adopted there."
"We haven't gotten the school involved yet," Brian said.
"Well, you don't want this to turn into another bullying situation like grade school," his mom said giving him a firm – but concerned – look.
He sighed a little. "It's complicated, Mom," he said. "It's basically the kid Ben thinks is his 'only friend'."
"Well, this doesn't sound like too much of a friend," Mom said. "Or at least one that needs a bit of an education about the way the world and family works."
"Yea, no kidding," Brian muttered and scrubbed his face a bit. "We've been trying to reach out to the kid's parents. The mom is giving us a bit of a run-around."
Ma gave him a bit of a look at that. "That's strange. It seems like the kind of thing that could be stopped in its tracks with a conversation or two."
"Yea, it's complicated," Brian said again and again checked on the kids to make sure they were likely checked out in what they were supposed to be doing. And he briefly weighed in his mind what he wanted to say. Or should say even. Liv was a deeply private person. But he got that. He was too. They had their secrets. Things they kept to themselves. Shit they worked out on their own. Things they pieced through together. But he didn't think this was one of their joint-state secrets. So he looked back to her. "This adoption thing is wrapped up in this kid trying to give Ben a sex education with his rooted directly out of these ass-hats' offspring showing my kid porn."
His mom gave him a look. There was a flash of surprise there but it tamed. She gave a little shrug and her head a little shake. "Well, maybe that's not so bad or all that complicated to get sorted, Brian. Kids that age are getting curious. Especially boys. You mustn't been much older than Benjamin when you first saw that kind of thing …"
The comment stung – catching him square in the chest – in a way he hadn't entirely been expecting.
"You sure started needing your sheets and athletic socks washed a whole lot more around the end of middle school. And weren't very original in those magazines you had stashed under you mattress."
Brian stared at her. But his chest felt tight. "Yea, Mom," he put back to her. "But looking at nudie magazines isn't exactly the same as looking at triple-X videos on a device you can store in your pocket."
He left out where those nudie mags had come from. Who'd given them to him. Who'd 'showed' him what he was supposed to do with them. Or the kind of near nudie photo-shoots of his own he'd been made to pose for himself. The kinds of pictures that had been in their apartment at some points. Given to him. And that he'd hidden in shoeboxes in the back of his closet or shoved to the back of his dresser drawer – until he could steal away and burn them. So no one would ever see. So his Mom would never see. So no other boys would ever see. But that he was sure other boys had seen. Other victims. All the pictures that Coach Dolan had kept for himself. To hold over you and all the confusion you had as a little kid about what'd happened to you or what it meant for your sexuality or your manhood. To show to his latest protégées in his grooming and abuse. To fucking try to normalize what he was doing to boy after boy. Soul after soul. Destroyed. Kept to fucking look at and relive for years. Decades. Kept for cops to find stowed away in photo album after photo album thirty years later. Pages sticky with a lot more than fingerprints and photo strip adhesive.
But his mom didn't know any of that. As far as he knew. And he didn't intend to tell her. Because what was the point? To make her carry that burden? Live with that guilt? About a past – and a childhood lost – that she couldn't do anything about now. To hav her take on that kind of guilt and self-blame? To fucking explain to her why he was a brawler and a workaholic and had only ever brought anyone home to appease her badgering about if and when he was going to get married and have a family of his own. Just a couple entirely inappropriate women to get her off his back. Until Liv. And just what knowing what had happened might suddenly make that make a whole lot more sense to her – just like it had been some kind of light switch for Liv in their relationship … and sex life. But his Mom didn't need that light switch. And he wasn't going to be the one that did all of that to her. She didn't need that ah-ha.
So she just looked at him now. There was a quiet, "Oh …". Like she'd forgotten – or hadn't thought of – just how much the internet and social media and phones had changed the way kids saw and accessed porn. Younger and younger. Graphic-er and graphic-er. So … whatever it was that Ben had been shown … he hadn't been able – or didn't know how – to entirely describe what he'd seen. Other than it'd upset him. And how much that had to do with what was on the screen versus those buried memories and ingrained trauma that were apart of his being … that was up in the air. But it'd still fucked up the kid. And it hadn't done a lot of Brian and his coping either. Because he was at a fucking loss how to cope with this. And he was leaning too much on Liv to set the example. To try to keep it together by following her lead. When what he really wanted to do was to go and kick the ass of this kid's father. To say 'what the fuck'.
"Well …," his mom pressed out. "I just think you need to be careful with how you talk to him about this," she said. "The tone you take."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Brian pressed out even harder. Partially because of that tightness in his chest and partially because of the anger he felt bubbling up with him.
His ma sighed and went back to halving the potatoes and tossing them in the pot. "You can just sometimes be so strict with that boy. You put on that voice, Brian. It can be a little scary."
And he glared at her, tilting his head. "I am always fair with him," he said and pressed out even harder. Anger bubbling again. "And I've never, EVER raised a hand at him. Or even come close to it."
His mom exhaled and gave him a glance. "I know, Brian. But, it's just boys that age … you need to strike a balance. Especially going into his teen years. You need to be a parent but you have to be his friend too. You need to find some kind of middle ground. So he is comfortable coming to you."
"He came to us," he spat. His chest felt tighter. Restrictive.
"It sounds like he came to Olivia and you two boys are at each other right now," she said and gave her head another shake. "I just know I wished you had your father around at that age."
"No, you don't," Brian shook his head. It was like breathing was getting harder. Shorter. Tighter. His heart rate – it was higher. He could feel it now. Pounding in his chest and in his ears. "Neither of us do."
It got another look. "Well, I wish you had a male role model. A father figure. Whenever I tried to even do the birds and bees and condom talk with you, you'd just turn so red and not ask or say a thing. Get out of the room as quickly as possible."
"Because you're my mom," he put to her.
"Well, it sounds like Benjamin is talking to his mom," she put right back.
And he glared some more. That thud in his ears was making it harder to think, to hear.
But Ma just shrugged. "I had hoped that maybe Coach Dolan was going to be that for you."
And now the pounding was just deafening. The ache in his chest felt more like a concrete plate pressing into him. And his eyes watered with it. Not enough air. And his mom just peeling the potatoes. Chopping and cutting and tossing them away. It was just bits and pieces now. He could hear her and it ached more – all over – but he couldn't process it. It was too much. Too fast.
"Do you even remember him? He was so kind in helping us with those equipment costs when you were so into baseball. And then you just weren't. I'd always wish you'd stuck it out. You weren't too bad, Brian. And that camaraderie you had with some of the other boys on the team. But, no. Just quit. Then you were just off running around with all those other neighborhood boys for all hours by that summer before high school. I never knew where you were. Expect the basketball courts. All those girls hanging around and macking on you boys trying to act like such macho men. With the cigarettes and the boom boxes. And who knows what else. I worried about what all you were getting into."
He'd only heard words here and there. All of it and none of it. All he could really hear was the one word. The name. Echoing in his fucking being.
And he couldn't breathe. Or even think.
And he didn't want his mom to see him like that. Or the kids.
"I need some air …," he managed to mumble.
It was only then his Ma looked at him again. And her face changed. "Brian? Are you feeling OK?"
But he was already almost stumbling for the door. Navigating the short space like it was a maze.
"I just need some air …" he gasped a bit. His eyes were watering. Vision blurry.
"Was it something I said? Are you alright?" His mom followed after him.
"Just give me some space …," he muttered. Stumbling again as he leaned to grab his boots and his jacket. He didn't even stop to put them on. He didn't want her to see. Or the kids to see.
"Brian …," she plead.
But he held out a palm. A clear order to stop. And he opened the door. He could see he startled Liv. He could see her face melt too. Change.
"I don't know what I said …" Mom said again. To him? To Liv.
He pulled the door shut. In her face.
"Amanda, I've got to go …," Liv said into the phone and then she was grabbing at his shoulders steadying him. "Brian …," she examined him. "What's wrong?"
He just shook his head and swiped at his eyes. The watering had more than glassed his eyes. A tear trickled out. He didn't want it there.
"I just need some air," he said. "I don't feel too hot. I'm just going to take a walk."
"OK …," Liv nodded. "But if you aren't feeling well – and you aren't looking too hot there, Bri. So I think I should come with you …"
He shook his head. "No," he muttered and swiped at his face again. "I just needed out of there. Ah … Ben's in a timeout …," he gestured at the door.
"Alright …," Liv said and her hands moved up to his face. His cheeks. Her thumbs on his cheekbones. He could feel their texture. He knew she was making him look at her. And he tried to see her – clearly – through those watery eyes. "Did he say something to upset you again?"
He shook his head a bit in her grip but she held him steady. And he reached to run his hand through his hair to try to calm too.
"Ah, you know … he was just being rude to his grandma …" he managed.
"OK …," Liv nodded a bit. "But, you're triggering, Brian. Your heart rate's through the roof."
He stared at her – only then realizing that her index fingers were pressed below his ears as she cupped his face.
He let out a shaky breath. And she did the same – bigger and more purposefully with the long inhale after it. She was coaching him. And he let her. He matched the breath. Both of them taking five long ones. Inhale until their chests rose and hold. And out through the mouth real slow. Eyes held.
"Good …," she said.
Brian knew his eyes were watering still. "I told her about the porn stuff and his questions and shit he's been giving us," he managed to rasp. "I don't know. She somehow got on fucking Dolan. How good he was to us. How she hoped he'd be some sort of father-figure for me. I just …"
He'd already even gotten that out. His voice shook through the last part. Breathless and tight.
"OK …," Liv nodded and brushed her thumbs across his cheeks again.
"I just need some air …," he muttered.
"OK …," she allowed again. "Is that all you want me to say?"
"Yea …," he nodded breathlessly again.
"Alright …," she agreed.
But he felt the breathing catch again. And the eyes well. "I don't know how to talk to him right now, Liv. It's fucking with me. It's eating me up. And I just … I want to beat the living shit out of this kid's dad. I don't know how to fucking fix this …"
"We're going to figure it out …," she said. She pulled at the collar of his coat. "Take a walk. Not far. Not long. OK?"
He nodded. And she gave him a small smile. And leaned in, peeking a brief kiss against his cheek in the exact spot her thumb had been. And then she opened the door and stepped inside. But before she shut it behind her, he could hear him Mom again say, "I don't know what I said …"
And he stood there a long beat – just hoping that his mom would drop it and that Liv wouldn't say too much. But he didn't wait to find out. He couldn't. He made for the stairs and ploughed down them nearly two at time.
He needed some air. To breathe.
AUTHOR NOTE:
Worked hard on this one. Hope it was well received.
Not sure what scene I'll work on next. I might just do a short one after this.
