Prompt #28: Eli's view on the move, his loss, and possible relationship with Liv

I'm Glad You're Here

~oOo~

"Eli?"

I looked away from the little crab I had been watching for the past five minutes or so. "Yeah?"

"I just wanted to tell you, um—" Noah paused, looking a little nervous as he spoke. "I'm really glad you're here. I like having you around; it's almost like I have a big brother, and that's really cool."

I raked my hand through the sand around my legs, pushing it away and then smoothing it back again as I let his words sink in. I looked up once I noticed Noah had stopped digging in the sand and was looking at me waiting to see what I would say. I had known him long enough now to know my silence was making him a little nervous. Our relationship had grown as we navigated what his mom and my dad had started with each other. We had a little bit of a rough start with our age difference, but we quickly realized that we both liked a lot of the same things and enjoyed hanging out with each other. We had this mutual agreement I would teach him Italian and soccer if he would teach me how to dance so I didn't have two left feet for next year's homecoming dance. He also, without realizing it, was teaching me how to be a true New Yorker; there were so many things I realized I didn't know about living in NYC. It was also kind of nice to not be the youngest kid in the family anymore.

I smiled at him and managed a, "me too," which seemed to placate him for now, and he turned back to digging the mote around the sandcastle we had worked on for the past couple of hours.

I turned my attention back to the crab and watched as it burrowed itself in the sand just as the wave broke against the shoreline. The crab reminded me so much of myself those first few months after I had come to New York. As my life came crashing down around me, I burrowed myself away from the whirlwind that was my life between Rome and New York. At first, no one had really noticed it because Dad was busy trying to catch the man responsible for our pain, and my brothers and sisters were busy with their own life and making sure Grandma and I stayed afloat while Dad locked himself away in his own grief and vengeance. Not that I could really blame him because I thought about it for a long time, and realized I probably would have done the same thing if I had been in his shoes. Grandma always said that I reminded her of Dad more than my other siblings. We apparently shared a need for justice and protectiveness. I didn't always see it, but who was I to argue with Grandma?

I watched the crab for a few minutes longer, as I let Noah's words run through my brain, I'm glad you're here. I thought back to the past two years and a half and all the things that led me to where I am now.

I honestly never thought I would be back in New York. There wasn't much about this place I remembered from when I was younger; I always knew that New York, Queens to be exact, was the original home for the Stabler clan. New York was starting to feel like home to me; it wasn't quite home the way Rome had been in our little apartment overlooking the 18th-century palazzo mom had loved so much.

Mom. I felt my breath hitch as I thought about Mom. I still had days where it was tough for me to even think about her. I was doing better though; there were times now where I could openly talk about her without feeling like I was going to fall apart from the grief. To my surprise initially, Olivia had helped me with that a lot. It had taken a long time for me to warm up to her as someone I could trust with everything. I knew the big kids, gosh how I hate that distinction, already had a relationship with her from when she and dad were partners at SVU, but for me it was different. I really didn't know her. I knew that she had been there the day I was born, but I didn't know the whole story. Once Dad told me how she literally saved me and mom on that day, I felt incredibly guilty for the way I had acted toward her. This whole time she was only trying to help, and I was trying to push her away. The thing about Olivia though is even during my rudest times toward her, she still accepted me with open arms and an open heart of empathy and love.

~oOo~

I thought back to the first time I truly understood Olivia's place in my life. It was last May, and I had come home from school fuming mad ready to hide out in my room. I slammed the door behind me, threw my bag on the floor, and stormed off toward my room.

Grandma had chosen that week to stay with Maureen out in Queens, so as I rounded the corner, I was surprised to see Olivia sitting on the living room couch reading case reports. I tried my best to ignore her as I made my way to my bedroom, but I heard her call my name as I made my way past.

"Eli?"

I turned on her, the anger swirling like a tempest, words dripping with fury. "What are you doing here?"

She took a second to remove her red-rimmed glasses, the concern for my outburst written clearly on her face. "My apartment is being painted today. Your dad said I could hang out here for a while." She paused seeming to choose her next words carefully. "I thought you and I could pick Noah up from dance, and then we could all go out for dinner tonight and maybe a movie or the arcade. My treat."

"Whatever," I lashed out as I stormed off and slammed the door behind me. Deep down I knew I really wasn't mad at her. I was so overwhelmed by everything that had happened since coming to New York. My mom dying, dad going undercover, the trial, my own screw-ups with pills, and that one night before Christmas, dad being undercover again, and now this changing relationship between her and my dad. It was a lot, and then to make matters worse, this weekend was Mother's Day. The third Mother's Day I couldn't spend with my own mom because she was gone. Gone because some low-life had her murdered. Blown up for no reason at all. She was my mom. She did nothing, but she was the one who paid the price. I threw myself down on my bed and punched the pillow under my head. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. I wanted to scream it as loud as I possibly could until someone would hear me.

I heard the knock on my bedroom door. "Eli?"

"Go away," I shot back as I turned my back to the door willing Olivia to leave me alone: alone because that's how I felt.

"Okay." I heard her let out a deep breath as her footsteps echoed back down the hallway. I was angry and buried under a mountain of grief. I felt lost and alone. I know Olivia was trying to help, but I was too set on pushing her away, and I didn't know why. I guess deep down I thought she may have been trying to take the place of my mom, and that hurt. I knew none of what had happened was her fault, and I got that, but I was so angry, and being angry at her was easier than actually talking about it all. Oddly though, I didn't mind her being with my dad. They were still in a friends/partner stage, but we could all see them moving closer and closer to an actual relationship. It was clear that having Olivia around made Dad really happy. It was different than the way he had been happy with Mom. They had been happy together and loved each other, but there was always something that had seemed off between them or missing. They tried their best to hide it, but I could see it, probably more than my other siblings since I had spent the most time with Mom and Dad together away from everything that used to keep them apart. I had tried to ask Kathleen about it once to see if she saw it too, but she evaded my question and told me our parents loved each other and were happy; there was something I could tell she wasn't talking about though. It seemed like once again everyone in my family knew something that I didn't: something that was different between the New York and Rome versions of our parents.

I almost jumped as I heard things clanging around in the kitchen; I had almost forgotten Olivia was here. I raised my head up to listen, and I could make out the sounds of mugs being placed on the counter. I shook my head and rolled my eyes; Olivia had probably gotten thirsty and helped herself to some of dad's prized coffee. I rolled back over and curled into a ball the pain of all my thoughts pulling me back under.

A few minutes later, I heard a small knock on my door. "Eli?" I kept silent knowing Olivia was waiting for my response. She must have realized she wasn't getting one because she continued. "I made some hot chocolate, and I thought we could sit down and talk." I ignored her again, and I heard her sigh. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Once again, I felt the overwhelming need to scream at her to go away, but as I opened my mouth to yell, I couldn't form the words. Before I could say anything, I heard one of the mugs being sat down on the floor. I figured she was leaving the cup for me outside my door, but instead, I heard her maneuvering to sit down with her back against my door. I saw the door move slightly as she leaned back against it, and I could see a little peek of her gray sweatshirt poking out from under the crack in the door.

"What are you doing?" I noticed my voice didn't sound as angry as it had before, but I could hear the hurt and pain in my own voice. I'm sure Olivia could hear it too.

"I'm sitting with you."

"What?"

I heard her take a deep breath before she spoke again. "I know you're hurting, Eli." She paused to see if I would lash out at her again, but I stayed silent as I listened. "I'm sitting here because I know that sometimes, when we're hurting, we need someone to remind us we're not alone."

I choked back a sob as I heard her words as they broke through the surface of my anger and grief.

"I want you to know I'm here, and I see you." She took another deep breath. "When you feel ready to talk, whether that's today, tomorrow, next week, whenever it is, I'm here and I care about you."

I could see her shift as the piece of her sweatshirt moved under the door. There was no way in hell she was comfortable sitting there like that, but she did. She sat there in silence just waiting, and I think she knew it was exactly what I needed. She wasn't pressuring me into talking, she wasn't yelling at me about my attitude, she was just there. Olivia, as she sat against my door in silence drinking her hot chocolate, was providing me with the comfort I had been yearning for, a comfort I would never be able to receive again from my own mother. Olivia was offering motherly love.

The tears refused to stop as the grief tried its best to pull me back under again. It felt like a strong wave pulling me out to sea as I sank into the depths of grief, anger, and hurt. The voice that called out was so broken. "Olivia!"

I saw the light peeking through as my door opened, and I felt the edge of the bed dip down as she sat down. I could feel her rubbing my back as I cried. "Oh, Eli."

I turned over so I could look at her, and choked out. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She pushed the fallen hair away from my eyes. "It's okay, Eli."

"No," I sat up and shook my head, ashamed, "I've been terrible toward you."

She smiled at me through her own tears. "I forgive you." I think she understood I needed to hear those three words from her.

I threw my arms around her, and I could tell she was thrown off by the way her body froze for a second before she wrapped her arms tightly around me as I cried into her shoulder. I could feel the tears soaking into her shirt, and I whispered, "she was my Mom."

"I know, sweetheart," she whispered back as I continued to cry into her shoulder. "And she always will be."

I pulled back slightly from her embrace, our brown eyes meeting. As they met, I looked up into her eyes, and all I saw reflected back at me was forgiveness, care, and love. I hugged her tight again before sitting back on my bed. "The kids at school, they were talking about Mother's—" I choked on my words, "Day this weekend, and some of them shared what they got for their mom's or what they had planned. This one kid, he's a new kid, turned to me and asked me what I was giving to or doing with my mom." I paused as the worst was yet to spill out of my mouth. "This jerk, Dylan, said, and unfortunately I quote, 'Dude, his mom is six feet under. Dead. He ain't doing anything with her or giving her anything, unless it's flowers for her grave.' The kid, Andrew didn't mean anything by the question; he didn't know, but Dylan knew exactly what he was saying. I honestly came close to punching him in the nose, but I knew it wouldn't solve anything, but it would get me kicked off of the soccer team before the final game." I looked at Olivia once again, and I could see the anger rising in her.

"I would have." This time the fury was dripping from her lips and not mine.

I looked at her incredulously. "What?"

She looked at me, eyes wide like she hadn't fully realized she said that out loud, "High School Olivia would have punched him, but I'm glad you didn't. You used your head and knew actions have consequences. That's smart."

I smiled at her. "It just, it brought up a lot."

She pushed the fallen hair back from my eyes and dried a few of the tears from my face. "I'm sure. You will find that sometimes it's the big things that trigger all those emotions, and on some days, it will be the smallest things you don't even realize." She brushed another tear from my face. "It helps to talk to someone."

I started picking at the string on my jeans. "It's hard."

"I know," she said her words with such an authority of understanding, I wondered what she had faced. "It helps to talk to someone." She took my hand into hers. "Don't let those feelings bottle up inside of you."

I considered her words before mumbling, "There's no one to talk to."

"You can talk to your dad."

I looked up at her and raised my eyebrows. "He doesn't get it."

"He understands more than you think, bud."

"It's just," I played with the string on my jeans again, "he has a lot going on, and sometimes I need— I need," I chewed on my lip willing the tears not to fall again, before settling on, "it's just difficult." I looked up at her, hoping she would get what I was too scared to say. I knew I could talk to anyone in my family, but it wasn't the same as talking to my mom. Talking to Dad was just different.

She patted my knee. "You can talk to me."

"But—"

She silenced me with a look that told me she wouldn't take any arguments. "You can talk to me anytime you need. My number—"

I quickly cut her off. "Um, I already have it. Dad gave it to me. He told me I could use it in emergencies." I smiled at her. "He said I could always count on you."

She smiled. "He's right, kiddo. You can call or text me anytime, and I'll be there." She stopped for a second like she was calculating her next words. "Eli, I was there for you the moment you came into this world, and there in that ambulance, I promised myself, and you, I would always, always protect you and support you any way I could."

"Really?"

"Mh-hm," she smiled, "and sometimes that's needing someone to listen to you when you're hurting, when you feel grief pulling you under, and when you need someone to remind you, you're not alone and that you have people who love you." She paused again. "Eli, I know I'm just your dad's friend and former partner, but—"

"For now." Her eyebrow shot up quickly, and I laughed. "Grandma."

"Ahh," she smiled, "but I care about you, and I'm so very lucky I get to know you." She took my hands into hers. "I know how the grief can make you feel like you're drowning, but I want you to know you are never alone. You have a lot of people who are right there waiting on the shore to reach out and grab you. All you have to do is take our hand and grab on to us."

I looked away from her as more tears threatened to fall. I wiped the tears away with my sleeve and turned back to look at her, but no words seemed sufficient enough in the moment to let her know how much I really needed to hear the words she had spoken.

She patted my knee before moving off my bed and grabbing the mugs. "Come to the kitchen when you're ready, and I'll make you some more hot chocolate, and I think I saw some ice cream too." She winked at me as she turned to walk out my door.

I sniffled as her words fell over me like a warm blanket ready to cocoon around me until I felt okay again. She smiled at me once more as she opened my bedroom door. I realized how wrong about her I was. The Olivia Benson I had been trying so hard to push away wasn't trying to replace my mom. All she wanted was for me to know how much she cares about me. How much she loves me.

I dried the tears from my face and walked out of my room into the kitchen. She was in there as she promised, making a fresh batch of hot chocolate.

"Olivia!"

She turned around to look at me and smiled; she stuck her hand out for me to grab.

I took hold of her hand, and then pulled her into a tight hug. I could feel the weight lift off my shoulders as she held me tight. "Thank you."

She kissed the top of my head. "You're welcome, sweet boy."

~oOo~

After that day, Olivia became the person I would call on the really difficult days, and she always kept her word. She would sit and listen to my stories of all the things mom and I would do together. On the days I didn't feel like talking, she would come over and sit in my room, and just be present. She never pushed me to talk or interact with her in any way. She would come in with mugs of hot chocolate, and we would sit on my bed together as we drank it. Other times, when it was really bad, she would come sit on the edge of my bed and rub my back as I cried. I knew the pain and grief would never truly go away, but I no longer had to burrow inside myself and deal with it all alone. Olivia showed up just like she promised, and now that she and dad had grown closer and were officially in a relationship, they would come in together, always in sync, and make sure I knew I had both of them. They would remind me, "We're all stronger together, Eli." Sometimes, Noah and Grandma would join too, and Noah, who was so much like his mom, would give me a big hug before he and Grandma would excuse themselves to go make cookies or cook dinner.

"It's finished!" Noah dusted off the sand in his lap and picked up his bucket. "Be right back!"

I watched him as he ran to the edge of the water and dipped his bucket into the ocean. I watched him closely, ready to jump in if he needed assistance or if he was in danger. Knowing Olivia had entrusted me with her son while she and dad worked inside the beach house made me feel extra protective over him. "Noah!" I yelled out as a strong wave rolled in and caused Noah to lose his balance. I watched him go down face first into the sand as the wave washed back out to sea. Before I could get to my feet, Noah quickly popped back up laughing as he shook the water from his hair. He looked back at me and waved to let me know he was okay. I waved back at him, shaking my head as I laughed.

I watched him as he ran back and filled up his mote, and then run back when he decided it needed more water. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as I looked back at the crab I had been watching earlier. The crab had now left its burrowed hole and was somewhere out of sight. Maybe it had left back out with the tide or had found a new place to lay in wait. I turned my attention back to the shore where Noah had been gathering his water, but he wasn't there. Before I had a chance to look for him, I heard giggling from behind me as a bucket of water cascaded down over my head. Noah was laughing even harder now as I spit and sputtered as the water dripped off the end of my nose and my hair.

"Gotcha!"

I looked up at him with payback written all over my face. He grinned as he took off running, and once I filled the bucket up again, I started chasing after him. I finally caught up to him, tossed the water in his direction, and missed. He laughed and took off running again as I filled the bucket up once more. This time I nailed him. He looked surprised and blinked the water out of his face before bursting out in laughter. He ran forward to grab the bucket and squealed when I grabbed hold of him and spun him around. He laughed as I sat him back down, and we both plopped back into the cool sand tired from running around on the hot July day. We lay on our backs in silence listening to the waves crashing against the shore.

"Hey, Noah?" I sat up in the sand, turning to look at him as he sat up too.

"Yeah?"

"It's pretty cool having a little brother." Before I had a chance to react, he flew into me almost knocking me over with the force of his hug. I wrapped my arms around him. "I like having you around too."

The next thing we knew ice cold water was pelting both of us. We looked up to see Dad, squirting both of us with the water hose.

"Dad!"

"Elliot!"

He laughed, and then laughed even harder as Liv snuck up behind us and dumped a bucket of water on both of us.

"Mom!"

"Liv!"

She laughed. "We couldn't let you two have all the fun." She grinned as Dad came closer and wrapped her in his arms.

"You two looked like you needed a little cooling off." They sat back in the sand together admiring our sandcastle.

It was a few minutes later when I felt Noah tug on my hand, so I turned to look at him. He grinned, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. He whispered, "Get 'em!"

We both took off running grabbing the two buckets. Neither of our parents seemed to notice, seemingly thinking we were going after each other again. After filling our buckets, Noah took off after dad and I took off after Liv. They both looked up in shock as the water poured down over their heads. Noah and I high-fived and laughed together as they wiped the water from their faces.

Olivia spoke first, laughing as the water drained from her long hair. "You two!"

"Thick as thieves," Dad said laughing.

I wrapped my arm around Noah. "Nah, just brothers."

"Yeah, brothers." He smiled up at me.

Olivia smiled, tears forming in her eyes. "Well then, my two boys," she pulled us in close, "I love you both very much."

I felt Dad step in closer, wrapping his arms around the three of us. "I love you, boys."

Standing there on the beach in our little family huddle, I realized for the first time that I truly felt like I was home. It wasn't the new apartment we were moving into or Grandma's beach house, it was the people standing here with their arms wrapped tightly around me, reminding me how loved I truly was. They were my home.

"If you all are done being sappy and cute," came Grandma's amused voice from the porch, "I could use some help with dinner before the rest of them get here and you all need a shower; I can smell you from here! Noah, those cookies won't bake themselves! Eli, come make the lemonade! Elliot, you are in charge of the grill, and Olivia come help me with the salad."

"Yes, Mama!"

"Coming Grandma B!" Noah squealed as Dad threw him over his shoulder to carry him back to the house. Dad winked at Olivia, sensing that she wanted a few minutes alone with me.

"Noah gets to bake cookies, and I'm stuck on salad duty," Olivia said with amusement.

"Well, you did burn the last batch you tried to make." She playfully swatted me on the arm, and I feigned injury before bursting out in laughter.

"You okay? I watched you for a little while today; you seemed deep in thought."

I nodded. "Yeah, just thinking."

"Care to share?"

"Noah, he told me he was glad I was here, and it made me think about everything that brought me here."

She placed her arm around my shoulder, "And?"

"It's all good." I turned to look at her. "I have my family. All of you. And, I'm home."

"I love you, Eli."

I wrapped my arms around her. "I love you too, Mama Liv." I felt the moment she registered what I said, but she didn't comment on it. She just hugged me tighter. I would always respect and remember my mom; no one would ever be able to truly take her place. Kathy Stabler would always be my mother, but maybe, I could have two people who loved me unconditionally the way a mother loves her son. I knew I wasn't ready to use Mama Liv all the time, but maybe one day as our relationship continued to grow it would stick for good.

I felt Olivia loosen her hold on me and step back. "Need a second?"

"Yeah."

She pointed over to the sandcastle Noah and I had built. "I'll gather the sand toys. I'll be here if you need me."

I nodded my head and waited until she walked off. I looked out toward the horizon. "I miss you, Mom. I'll always miss you. I wasn't okay before, but I am now." I looked over at Olivia as she shook out the towels Noah and I had been using, and I looked up at the porch as I heard Dad and Noah laughing. "I still have family to love me and protect me." I closed my eyes. "I love you, Mom." I held my eyes closed as a cool breeze blew down the beach and a bird tweeted nearby. I smiled, choosing to believe it was my mom reminding me she loved me too. I stood there in the silence for a few minutes more and listened to the sounds around me; the waves crashing against the shore, the seagulls as they flew overhead, Grandma's wind chime on the porch, the sound of laughter and love, and the sound of my name as Olivia called for me.

I took some of the things she was carrying and followed her as we made our way back to the house. I turned once more to glance back at the beach, and whispered to myself, "I'm glad I'm here too, right where I belong."

~oOo~

AN: This prompt has sparked a whole series where Eli gets to speak, and he has a lot to say! I hope to continue this after the challenge!