Disclaimer: These characters are copyright to Dick Wolf, NBC, USA, ect.
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Elliot sighed, his heart heavy with the current case he and his partner were working. These days, it seemed as if each case was more sadistic and nauseating than the one before. He had given up long ago on the faraway dream that inspired many youngsters to become cops: the betterment of society. This case, that was literally unthinkable to most people, had come equally as a shock and an eye-opener for Elliot and the entire unit. A cop, captain, to be more specific, was a model husband and father of three straight-'A' children. When his wife had finally come out of her deep denial she took her youngest daughter to the hospital for a rape kit. The case was immediately handed to the SVU and years of the captain of Queens Narcotics, Jeff Rowling, abusing his daughters had come into light. Before Elliot and his long-time partner and best friend, Olivia, had become aware of this man's secrets, Elliot had involuntarily associated himself with the man. Jeff's two daughters were roughly around the same ages as his own. Fourteen and eleven. A son was stuck in the middle somewhere around thirteen. Jeff and his wife's marriage was strained, mostly due to the late hours and excessive amount of time spent at work that came with the territory of being a cop and Elliot could relate. Elliot stared vacantly down at the folder on his desk. It was uniformly manila and bland as hell; he'd seen enough folders in the past two days to last him the rest of his life. After threatening and smacking Jeff Rowling around a little he'd been forced into desk duty, much to his own objection. He glanced around; the sky outside the windows was black and dotted with stars that were barely visible against the bright lights of Manhattan. Elliot adjusted his tired, cerulean gaze until it fell upon the large clock in the station house. The longer hand was on the 9 and the smaller on the 10. He let out another sigh and stood up, his mind pounding and his eyes half-shaded by a pair of insistent eyelids. The three-day chain of no sleep was catching up with him, and whether he wanted to admit it or not he was too old to be going without sleep for so long anymore. "I'm out of here," Elliot said to no one in particular, but Fin took notice. "Night, Elliot," He replied with a worried overtone in his dark brown eyes. Olivia was somewhere interrogating someone; Elliot was sure, but too engulfed by exhaustion to bother with the particulars. As he was packing up to leave, one manila folder fell open and inside was a scattered array of pictures. Jeff's daughters, Elliot thought to himself. Cara, was eleven, and had hair the same shade of blond as his own four children. Her bright green eyes danced with pain, and her face was sprinkled with auburn freckles. The next picture was Jessica, she was fourteen, and had darker hair, more like Dickie. She had big brown eyes that stabbed him in the heart as he thought of what she went through for the last six years of her life. His eyes roamed to the final picture, Sean, was thirteen in February. He was a perfect blend of his two sisters, with light brown hair and emerald eyes. Elliot shook his head lightly, wondering how a captain of the police force could harm his own children. Wondering how in the hell this would have slipped through the cracks. He narrowed his eyes for lack of being able to hit something. He had to do something, and when he was in this exhausted stupor he was full ready to kill the man, but didn't plan on doing so. Elliot restored the pictures in their respective places, shoved the folder hastily into a drawer, and tore out of the precinct. Elliot sped off in the sleek black sedan he and his partner shared and headed for Queens. Once he reached the desired address, 1015 North Circle Drive, Queens, New York, he jumped out of the car. This certainly wasn't the blue, white-trimmed house he'd created memories in or shared with his family for the past eight years. This was Jeff Rowling's place of residence. Elliot walked up to the door and banged a balled fist swiftly on it. The next morning Jeff was to show up in court, Elliot reminded himself, to be indicted. Jeff's wife had evacuated a week ago along with the three children. Elliot heard footsteps on the other side of the door and unsnapped his gun holster. His stomach was swarming with butterflies and his temper flaring. "Hello, can I help yo-?" A groggy voice accompanied the click behind the door. Elliot did a fancy move, twisting Jeff's arms behind his back. It was all a blur to Elliot, but he was sure the man's knees were forcefully pressed onto the cold, hard cement. "You bastard. You ruined the lives of your own children. You ruined the reputation of the NYPD. You bastard." Elliot said his words slowly but surely, resolute and full of intimidation. "Ahh, detective Stabler." Elliot tightened his firm grasp around the man's wrists. "I don't believe your captain ordered you here to harass me, now did he? Or is he looking for a brutality suit?" Jeff continued. Elliot's eyes narrowed and all he could think about was how this man abused his authority in too many ways. "Shove it." Elliot replied as he twisted the man's bent arm upward. Jeff squirmed and yelped in pain. All sound drowned out of Elliot's ears and all he could hear was the steady, rapid beat of his heart. He pulled his gun slowly out of its holster and clicked off the safety. He pressed the hunk of cold metal against Jeff's temple. If he did it, if he shot him, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that that would be the end of it. Of his career as a policeman, of his respect and integrity. But this was his breaking point, and whether he liked it or not he was broken. He stifled these thoughts with the click of his gun's hammer. "You're right detective Stabler. I did what you say I did." Elliot's heart was beating even faster now, and the sheer cockiness of Jeff's was about to send Elliot over the edge. "But you can't do a damn thing about it." Jeff's light tone gave way to laughter, and Elliot's arm was shaking with fear. He pulled the trigger and let it go quickly. The sound of the shot was loud and menacing. Elliot dropped his gun. He backed away, chest heaving, staring at the blood pouring out of Jeff Rowling's head. Part of him wanted to call a bus and get him to a hospital, but he knew Jeff wouldn't live after a shot to the head. He wouldn't lie or deny the fact that he had shot the man. He had ruined his career past the state of redemption, he kept telling himself while he hopped into his car and sped right back to the station, hands still thrashing from what he had just done.
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Elliot sighed, his heart heavy with the current case he and his partner were working. These days, it seemed as if each case was more sadistic and nauseating than the one before. He had given up long ago on the faraway dream that inspired many youngsters to become cops: the betterment of society. This case, that was literally unthinkable to most people, had come equally as a shock and an eye-opener for Elliot and the entire unit. A cop, captain, to be more specific, was a model husband and father of three straight-'A' children. When his wife had finally come out of her deep denial she took her youngest daughter to the hospital for a rape kit. The case was immediately handed to the SVU and years of the captain of Queens Narcotics, Jeff Rowling, abusing his daughters had come into light. Before Elliot and his long-time partner and best friend, Olivia, had become aware of this man's secrets, Elliot had involuntarily associated himself with the man. Jeff's two daughters were roughly around the same ages as his own. Fourteen and eleven. A son was stuck in the middle somewhere around thirteen. Jeff and his wife's marriage was strained, mostly due to the late hours and excessive amount of time spent at work that came with the territory of being a cop and Elliot could relate. Elliot stared vacantly down at the folder on his desk. It was uniformly manila and bland as hell; he'd seen enough folders in the past two days to last him the rest of his life. After threatening and smacking Jeff Rowling around a little he'd been forced into desk duty, much to his own objection. He glanced around; the sky outside the windows was black and dotted with stars that were barely visible against the bright lights of Manhattan. Elliot adjusted his tired, cerulean gaze until it fell upon the large clock in the station house. The longer hand was on the 9 and the smaller on the 10. He let out another sigh and stood up, his mind pounding and his eyes half-shaded by a pair of insistent eyelids. The three-day chain of no sleep was catching up with him, and whether he wanted to admit it or not he was too old to be going without sleep for so long anymore. "I'm out of here," Elliot said to no one in particular, but Fin took notice. "Night, Elliot," He replied with a worried overtone in his dark brown eyes. Olivia was somewhere interrogating someone; Elliot was sure, but too engulfed by exhaustion to bother with the particulars. As he was packing up to leave, one manila folder fell open and inside was a scattered array of pictures. Jeff's daughters, Elliot thought to himself. Cara, was eleven, and had hair the same shade of blond as his own four children. Her bright green eyes danced with pain, and her face was sprinkled with auburn freckles. The next picture was Jessica, she was fourteen, and had darker hair, more like Dickie. She had big brown eyes that stabbed him in the heart as he thought of what she went through for the last six years of her life. His eyes roamed to the final picture, Sean, was thirteen in February. He was a perfect blend of his two sisters, with light brown hair and emerald eyes. Elliot shook his head lightly, wondering how a captain of the police force could harm his own children. Wondering how in the hell this would have slipped through the cracks. He narrowed his eyes for lack of being able to hit something. He had to do something, and when he was in this exhausted stupor he was full ready to kill the man, but didn't plan on doing so. Elliot restored the pictures in their respective places, shoved the folder hastily into a drawer, and tore out of the precinct. Elliot sped off in the sleek black sedan he and his partner shared and headed for Queens. Once he reached the desired address, 1015 North Circle Drive, Queens, New York, he jumped out of the car. This certainly wasn't the blue, white-trimmed house he'd created memories in or shared with his family for the past eight years. This was Jeff Rowling's place of residence. Elliot walked up to the door and banged a balled fist swiftly on it. The next morning Jeff was to show up in court, Elliot reminded himself, to be indicted. Jeff's wife had evacuated a week ago along with the three children. Elliot heard footsteps on the other side of the door and unsnapped his gun holster. His stomach was swarming with butterflies and his temper flaring. "Hello, can I help yo-?" A groggy voice accompanied the click behind the door. Elliot did a fancy move, twisting Jeff's arms behind his back. It was all a blur to Elliot, but he was sure the man's knees were forcefully pressed onto the cold, hard cement. "You bastard. You ruined the lives of your own children. You ruined the reputation of the NYPD. You bastard." Elliot said his words slowly but surely, resolute and full of intimidation. "Ahh, detective Stabler." Elliot tightened his firm grasp around the man's wrists. "I don't believe your captain ordered you here to harass me, now did he? Or is he looking for a brutality suit?" Jeff continued. Elliot's eyes narrowed and all he could think about was how this man abused his authority in too many ways. "Shove it." Elliot replied as he twisted the man's bent arm upward. Jeff squirmed and yelped in pain. All sound drowned out of Elliot's ears and all he could hear was the steady, rapid beat of his heart. He pulled his gun slowly out of its holster and clicked off the safety. He pressed the hunk of cold metal against Jeff's temple. If he did it, if he shot him, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that that would be the end of it. Of his career as a policeman, of his respect and integrity. But this was his breaking point, and whether he liked it or not he was broken. He stifled these thoughts with the click of his gun's hammer. "You're right detective Stabler. I did what you say I did." Elliot's heart was beating even faster now, and the sheer cockiness of Jeff's was about to send Elliot over the edge. "But you can't do a damn thing about it." Jeff's light tone gave way to laughter, and Elliot's arm was shaking with fear. He pulled the trigger and let it go quickly. The sound of the shot was loud and menacing. Elliot dropped his gun. He backed away, chest heaving, staring at the blood pouring out of Jeff Rowling's head. Part of him wanted to call a bus and get him to a hospital, but he knew Jeff wouldn't live after a shot to the head. He wouldn't lie or deny the fact that he had shot the man. He had ruined his career past the state of redemption, he kept telling himself while he hopped into his car and sped right back to the station, hands still thrashing from what he had just done.