Sentinel
~oOo~
Noah's POV
Mom's hurt. And I want Elliot.
That's the mantra that plays through Noah Benson's head as Katie walks with him into the hospital's ER lobby entrance.
There's a crowd of uniforms and suits in the waiting area, some faces familiar, others not, but none are the one he wants to see the most. None of them are Elliot.
Noah bites his lip and stands up straighter, reminding himself that he'll be eleven in a few months – not a little kid anymore so he shouldn't act like a baby. But his eyes are wet, and his chin won't stop wobbling. His nose keeps running and he's rubbed it on his sleeve to get it to quit. His mom isn't here to insist he use a tissue so he doesn't care.
He's scared and he wants Elliot.
He shouldn't want to bury his face in Elliot's chest and feel the reassuring weight of the man's hand on the back of his neck. The way Elliot's voice is always a conundrum of both soft and gruff. There's something that's just safe – steady and sure – about his presence that Noah aches for right now.
He never thought he'd want to be held by anyone other than his mother. And no one compares to her, not even close, but a fact he's learned quick in the last year is – Elliot gives really good hugs. Exactly the sort he imagines a father's embrace would always feel like. The type that makes him feel surrounded by strength and protection, and everything that Elliot is.
Noah tugs on Katie's hand before they reach everyone, and she pauses, looking down at him. "Where's Elliot?" he asks, hating how small his voice sounds.
She frowns and her free hand brushes the hair off his forehead, so reminiscent of a move his mom always does when she wants to calm him down that it makes him swallow and blink hard. "He'll be here as soon as he can, No, breaking every traffic law there is and coming in here on two wheels, no doubt."
"I'm scared, Katie," he whispers after a moment when she goes to walk, pulling on her hand again. "I need my mom to be okay. She has to be okay. She just has to."
Katie's eyes water and she twists to face him, tightening her hold on his hand and crouching down so they're eye to eye. "Me too, No. We all need her to be okay." He's glad she doesn't promise it would be when there's no way to know for sure.
Noah sniffles. "And I really want Elliot," he confesses, knowing that if anyone could understand that it would be Katie.
"Oh sweetie," she murmurs, eyebrows furrowing, and she pulls him into her side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "I promise, he's coming. He'll be here, you'll see. That man would fight hell itself to be there for your mom. And for you."
Katie leads him to a seat in between Lizzie and Eli in the chairs against the far wall, before stating that she's going to bug the nurse's station about an update. Dickie, who's stationed across from him, offers a soda and snack that he doesn't have the energy to touch, but he tries to give a small smile for the gesture. Without saying anything, Lizzie reaches for his hand, and Eli scoots close enough to bump his leg reassuringly against his own. It's not a lot but it's enough. The idea that his family grew to be the size of a sports team in the last year still takes some getting used to, but he and his mom aren't a two-man team anymore, and right now, he's glad for it. Everyone here loves his mom so much. They're all here for her.
Too anxious to do much of anything while he waits, Noah sits and picks at his nails, bouncing his knee up and down. He can see Eli and his slumped shoulders, pretending to fiddle with his phone out of the corner of his eye while Lizzie and Dickie whisper to each other, probably disagreeing about something, trying to distract themselves. The familiarity of their banter manages to soothe him just a little.
Katie returns this time with most of his mom's squad in tow, and Mo and Carl too. Noah wants to speak up and ask again if his mom is going to be okay, and if anyone has seen Elliot. He should be here by now.
As if Noah manifested the man's presence, Elliot comes charging through the sliding lobby doors at a brisk jog, sheer, unadulterated panic etched into his face. Fin and Katie are the quickest on the uptake, intercepting him before he can start yelling and raging. They manage to pull him aside a few feet away.
They're speaking too low for Noah to make out anything, but he has a clear view of Elliot's every expression. The way it twists and darkens when he's told the details of what happened. Of what could still happen if the world is set on taking his mom away forever. Noah hopes the universe wouldn't be so cruel.
Noah watches Fin touch Elliot's shoulder, and then Katie puts her arms around her dad, hugging him with everything in her.
Watching them and still not knowing what's going on, Noah, suddenly, can't take it anymore. He stands up and makes his way over. The adults don't notice him on the perimeter of their circle, entrenched intensely in their own overlapping conversation.
"El," Noah calls out.
Elliot's head whips around at the sound of his nickname. His entire demeanor changes when he lays bright eyes on Noah.
"Hey bud, come here," Elliot responds roughly, without hesitation, opening his arms, somehow instinctively knowing exactly what Noah needs from him.
Noah doesn't need any other invitation. He rushes forward and collides with the wall of the man's chest. With his face hidden, it's easy to let a few of the building tears stream down his cheeks. Elliot's hand is warm and firm at the nape of his neck. The other hand spans almost his entire back he feels like, rubbing soothingly.
Noah feels Elliot's fingers slip up into his curls. "I got you," the man keeps repeating quietly, and a dam inside breaks open.
The tears come faster, unbidden, and he can't control the sob that catches in his throat. He wants his mom to be okay, and he wants Elliot to make it better because his mom told him that he's good at that. He's good at fixing things.
Noah feels Elliot's hands shift down to his armpits, and before he can ask what the man's doing, he's being hoisted up easily. His breath catches and his eyebrows pull together, hands automatically gripping tightly to Elliot's army jacket.
He hasn't been held like this since he was really little. In nearly any other circumstance, he'd be upset and embarrassed at the prospect of anyone picking him up like a toddler. His mom says that he's growing like a weed after all. That he's nearly eighty pounds and Elliot's carrying him like it's nothing. His mom also says that Elliot is the strongest man she knows. He guesses she was right.
"Your mom is strong, bud. So strong. She's the strongest person I know, and she's going to fight to stay with us," Elliot says in his ear, reading his mind the same way he effortlessly reads his mom's mind.
"But what if it's not enough?" Noah whispers brokenly into Elliot's shoulder. "What if she fights and she still has to leave us? I don't want her to go. I don't want to die, El." His lip quivers, he bites down hard on it.
He can't see his face, but he can feel Elliot's body tremble like an earthquake against his own. "I don't want her to go either, No. I need her here." Elliot lowers his voice until he's practically silent, but because he's so close, Noah catches his plea. "God, please don't take her from us."
Noah sniffles and lifts his head, getting struck with a sudden idea. "Maybe you could help her fight," he suggests.
It's so obvious that Noah wishes he'd thought of it sooner. They're partners. A team. They work together. Give help and support each other.
Elliot's eyes squint in confusion, and Noah explains what he means. "Mom says that you help her face things that she can't fight alone. That that's what partnership is for: being stronger together than apart. That's what she says about family too. And we're family. So, we should help her fight."
His mom always seems to have such faith in her family, in those she considers her own. Maybe it's time they return the favor and put all their faith in her too.
An undefinable expression crosses Elliot's face, and Noah can see tears threatening to fall under his eyes as he looks at him. "I think that's a great idea, bud," he says, his gravelly voice is all wobbly, and Noah wonders what he said to make Elliot sound like that.
Elliot's lips press against the side of his head, and Noah thinks this must be what it's like to have a dad. Someone to hold him and show him that sometimes it's okay to cry. And how powerful it can be to have people who love and believe in him, in his corner no matter what. Especially, when one of those people is Elliot Stabler. How trust can be a sacred thing, not given or taken away lightly. And strength looks different on everyone and in every situation.
"Come on, No, let's go lend your mom some of our strength. Let her know we're not going anywhere," Elliot says into his hair, making no move to put him down.
Noah's glad that Elliot seems to want to hang onto him just as much as he wants to. He thinks that, maybe sometimes, it's okay to feel little and let someone else hold him for a while.
He lays his head on Elliot's shoulder and enjoys the ride, knowing no one is going to stop them from seeing his mom. No one would dare tell Elliot what he could or couldn't do, especially when it concerns his mom. The man can be scary when it comes to the people he loves. Noah has delightfully learned recently that he's included in that too. That there's nothing quite like being under the watchful, protection of Elliot Stabler. His mom assures him it's an honor while his kids tease and groan that it's mostly annoying how protective he is.
Noah has never had a dad to be protective of him, so, he really doesn't have a problem with it. Maybe in a few years he will but not yet. Right now, it's the best feeling in the world.
~oOo~
Noah sits with his mom, not wanting to so much as look away from her. He holds her hand because they told him that it wouldn't hurt her. That she's resting now, and she'll be okay. She's supposed to wake up soon, and he wants to be here when she does. Elliot hasn't left either, and the one time he did have to step out for a phone call, Noah had made him promise to come back even though he knew the man wouldn't go far. He'd never leave them.
He glances over at the man now, sitting in the other plastic chair, hunched over, jacket long since stripped and thrown over the back of the seat. Noah can see the outline of familiar ink on his forearm where the sleeves are pushed up. He loves that tattoo. The Marine Corp emblem. Always faithful. His mom says that describes Elliot to a tee.
Elliot's gaze shifts away from Noah's mother long enough to notice him watching. There are tear stains on Elliot's cheeks, his eyes are puffy and red, and his jawline is peppered with day-old stubble. The worry lines across his forehead are still visible and he looks dead on his feet, but Noah thinks he looks better than last night.
Elliot makes no effort to hide any of the emotions playing across his face, it's on full display for Noah to see. A man not afraid to show the truth of how he feels. The sheer magnitude of emotion that ripples off the man's hulking frame.
Before they knew for sure that his mom was going to make a full recovery, Elliot had let Noah tuck himself against his side and cry silently until he was finally exhausted enough to fall asleep. He'd woken hours later to Elliot assuring him that his mom would be okay. The doctors had come by while he was sleeping and said so.
Noah has been antsy for her to wake up ever since. He's asked Elliot for the hundredth time about it, and the man has answered patiently every time. It's nearly noon, and Noah had barely touched his breakfast, and he knows Elliot will insist that he eat at least a couple of bites of whatever lunch Katie or Fin brings up in an hour or so. But he doesn't want to eat. He wants his mom to wake up and hold him. He wants to hear her voice and see her smile. He wants her to tease Elliot and make him grin all dimpled and wide because Noah hates seeing him so sad. Do something to make the darkness of the last few days recede.
So, together they continue to wait. Until finally – finally something changes.
A pained groan makes Noah's head whip around to look at his mother while Elliot jumps to his feet and moves to the side of the cot. She makes another noise, scrunching her nose and furrowing her eyebrows her hands tangling in the sheets. She's waking up.
Noah leans forward almost out of his seat, and Elliot lays his hand on hers, caressing gently. "Liv, sweetheart, can you hear me?"
Her eyes flutter open after a couple of tense, endless seconds. "Mom?" Noah says hopefully, getting as close as he can get. He feels Elliot's free hand rest on his shoulder, a reminder that he isn't alone. That's he's safe.
His mom's fuzzy gaze focuses on Elliot first. "El?" she murmurs, voice low and scratchy.
Elliot smiles, soft and relieved, bringing his hand to brush across her forehead, and she blinks slowly at him. "I'm right here. Noah's here."
"Mommy," Noah says quietly, fighting the urge to climb onto the bed so he can be closer to her, but he doesn't want to cause her more pain. His mom takes in her surroundings, and realization quickly dawns on her face as the memory of what happened must have come flooding back.
She looks at him, and Noah doesn't care that he's crying again because his mom's hand is reaching for him, and he's quick to cling to her.
"My sweet boy," she murmurs, squeezing his hand tightly in her own, pulling him in even closer after she gets a clear look at how upset he is. "Hey, it's okay. I promise I'm okay."
She almost died. How could it have been so bad and now everything seems fine? It feels too good to be true.
Noah feels his body slump against Elliot's and the man remains a rock beside him, holding him up and never letting him fall. The warm hand encompassing his shoulder is grounding. Elliot's other hand leaves his mom long enough to press the call button on the wall behind the bed, but then finds its way back, probably needing the contact just as much as Noah does.
His mom reaches up and brushes the fresh tears falling down his cheeks, and Noah wants to cry harder because she really is okay. She glances at Elliot, and he seems to understand what she wants without either of them saying a word.
"Bud, I think your mom could use one of your super powerful, healing hugs," Elliot suggests, inclining his head and bumping his hip against Noah's own.
Noah bites his lip, gaze flicking between the two of them, unsure. "But what if I make you hurt worse or something?" he asks his mom. Because she just woke up and she's probably tired and in pain, and maybe they should let her rest-
She smiles and shakes her head gently. "You won't, baby. In fact, I'm sure a cuddle from my boy would make everything better. El's right, your hugs do have healing powers. Now, come here and give your ol' mom a big one. And don't skimp on me. No half-hearted side hugs allowed," she teases, no doubt trying to get a smile out of him.
Any other time, Noah would point out that he's starting to get too old for the whole his hugs have special powers thing his mom has been insisting on keeping up with since he was little – and now Elliot seems to have picked up on it too – but maybe in this instance he could be inclined to believe his hugs do make a difference.
So, his mom scoots over as best she can without hurting herself further, and Elliot helps Noah get situated in the space next to her, leaning gently against her less injured side and letting his head rest on her shoulder. He can hear the reassuring thump of her heart and the soothing, unintelligible hum of her voice, feel the rhythmic expansion of her chest when she breathes and the warmth of her fingers combing through his hair. He thinks that he could stay here forever and lets his eyes slide shut. Noah feels his body start to relax fully for the first time in days.
Before he can let himself fall asleep though, he cracks an eye open again, looking for something – someone. He finds who's he's looking for, still standing like a fixture at the side of the bed. A sentinel, standing guard.
"El," Noah says softly. "Please, don't go." Just in case he hasn't already made himself clear about how he feels about the man leaving. Even if it's just the room so they can have some privacy.
"Yeah, El. Stay," his mom adds helpfully, boldly grasping at Elliot's hand, weaving her fingers through his own. Noah thinks it's kind of a perfect fit. They're a perfect fit.
Elliot's chest expands with a deep, shuddering breath, and the look in his glassy blue eyes is enough to make Noah want to get up and give him one of his special hugs too. The man looks like he could use it.
Noah is mesmerized when Elliot bends down with the utmost care and brushes his lips to the back of his mom's hand that he's holding. A tear slips down the man's nose, but he makes no move to wipe it away.
"I'm not going anywhere," Elliot swears, using his other hand to reach behind himself and drag one of the chairs closer, sitting down in it for emphasis.
Noah smiles and closes his eyes once more, knowing that Elliot never lies. His mom said so. His mom is okay. Noah feels safe, and he knows that Elliot won't let anything happen to them.
He allows himself to be lulled to sleep by the murmur of their low voices, and the feeling of Elliot's hand on his head, picking up his mother's habit of carding his fingers through his mass of curls. Maybe it soothes them as much as it does him. Either way, he never wants it to stop. It makes him feel safe.
Maybe when he wakes up, he can ask Elliot if he'll stay forever.