title: city lights
author: duck
rating: pg
summary: "whatever he did in his life, he knew he'd do it in the city."
author's note: i haven't written in a while, so this was just something i was playing around with. inspired by "rooftop." thanks to ic and k for the beta.
disclaimer: not mine, just daydreaming about what i'd do if they were.
-----
The roof shingles were rough under his hands and the danger of a fall very real, but to a twelve year old, the chance of adventure was too much of a luring prospect to resist. He winced as his foot slipped and his knee smashed against the sloping roof. He felt the grit of the roof scrape his hands as he gripped it with splayed palms, pressing his body hard down into it. Don't fall, he silently begged his small frame. Even if he survived a fall -- since he was only creeping around the roof of the porch -- Mom would surely kill him for being out of his bed so late. He could almost hear her voice now. "Elliot Gregory Stabler, I told you no climbing around the roof! You need some sense smacked into you!"
Gravity still tugged at him, but with a rush of adrenaline he realized he'd conquered its pull. His sense of balance and confidence restored, he quickly scrambled the rest of the way towards the part of the second story that stooped low enough for him to hoist himself up. He paused for a moment before standing, a nagging sense of danger holding him back. His father had almost fallen from the roof last year when he and Elliot's two older brothers had been re-shingling the roof. The terror of watching the incident had stuck with him.
But without risk there was no gain, and he wanted to see the city lights shining down on his neighborhood more than he wanted that new bike he knew his parents were getting him for his birthday. So he found himself standing up on shaky legs, bracing himself against the siding of the house and praying, more fervently than he ever did in church, that his parents wouldn't hear the noise he was making. He gulped in a few deep breaths before reaching out a tentative hand to find a solid grip on the roof above him. It took another few breaths for his other hand to join his first, and still another few more before he found the courage to kick upward.
He was somewhat surprised when he found himself lying on his stomach on the second story roof, his legs dangling over the edge. He hadn't expected to make it on his first try. He pulled himself the rest of the way up, careful to not hit the side of the house with his feet. His heart was racing furiously by the time he was all the way on, kneeling with his hands still pressed against the shingles. He slowly crawled his way to the peak of the roof. The sight that presented itself made all his hard work worth it.
The glittering skyscrapers shone down on him like the lights of heaven, and he was sure God would forgive him such blasphemy because it was a very favorable comparison as far as heaven went. The Empire State Building would be the throne of God, the Chrysler Building was where Jesus stayed, and the Queensborough Bridge was the gate of heaven. Elliot smiled to himself as he pictured St. Peter standing guard over it, letting only the worthy in and sending everyone else into Hell -- which would be Jersey of course. He had to stifle his laughter as he imagined the expression on Father Benjamin's face if Elliot told him about his imaginations.
Heck, any of his dreaming would probably give the good Father a heart attack, and since Elliot liked the old man, that was one of the last things he wanted to do. He let his mind wander back to the city that spread itself out in front of him. He wanted so badly to live there, to live for the excitement and the action. Nothing ever happened around here, and his father refused to tell him any of the better stories about his day. "Maybe when you're older, Elliot. I don't want you to hear about it just yet." His father was so frustrating.
One day he'd move into Manhattan, he knew it. He couldn't bear the thought of living in Queens any longer than the next few years. He was young, but he knew enough to know he could leave his parents' house when he was eighteen and never look back, like his brother Charlie had just done. Maybe he'd be a cop like his dad, or a firefighter. Or maybe he'd hit it big in business. Whatever he did in his life, he knew he'd do it in the city.
-----
His fifteen year old hands and feet followed the familiar path across the shingles, and he barely scraped his hands anymore on the gravel. He could almost get up there on just his feet now, only using his hands to get up to the second story roof. He'd added almost eight inches to his height since he had started doing this three years ago, and the muscle he was developing playing football wasn't hurting either.
He smiled as he walked his way to the top of the roof, savoring the sweet taste of victory. His coach had assured him the starting linebacker spot on next year's varsity squad, and one of the pretty freshman girls had overheard his friends congratulating him in the hallway. She'd given him a shy smile and he'd grinned back, running his hands through his hair the way his brother Michael taught him, assuring him the girls loved that sort of thing from any of the dark-haired Stabler boys. Michael was a freshman at the community college with a girlfriend, and Elliot believed him, even if he still lived at home.
He settled himself down on the shingles, getting lost in the lights of the city again. He liked the way his stomach had flipped at the girl's smile. Maybe he'd find out her name and ask her out sometime. He was turning sixteen soon, and he figured it was about time he found himself a girlfriend. His teachers had told him he had a real good shot at college if he buckled down and applied himself, but he could worry about that later. Michael had given Elliot his Playboy collection when he'd started dating Julie, and one of the issues had a list of the most sexually-charged colleges. Elliot wanted to go to the top one.
He only wished it could be in the city; it was some place in Florida. It didn't exactly line-up with his dreams of moving into the city and an exciting life, but he could get plenty of excitement down in Florida before moving back up here. He stretched his arms over his head as he contemplated where he'd move in the city. He wanted to live somewhere nice, and somehow the consequences and necessity of money never entered into his dreaming. SoHo had always sounded nice, or maybe even the Upper West Side.
Maybe that freshman girl would be just right for him, and they could live in the city together. He felt a blush creep over his face at the thought, even as he cringed at his own embarrassment. Get a grip, Elliot, he told himself. She's just a girl.
He lost himself in dreams and the city lights again.
-----
He hardly noticed the journey to the top of the roof anymore. He settled his weary eighteen year old body down on the hard shingles and glared at the lights of the city. So much promise there, and so close. But it hadn't ever been this far out of reach before. His body still ached from boot camp, finished a week ago. He had to report back tomorrow and he wasn't looking forward to it. He reached in his pocket for his cigarettes, a habit he'd acquired during boot. As he lit one he reminded himself he was going to quit soon. Disgusting habit, really. Kath didn't want him coming over smelling like smoke anyway.
He took a long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs for as long as possible before exhaling it sharply in the direction of the city. He watched the smoke unfurl and studied the way it hazed up the city lights. Maybe when he was done with his time in the Marines he could live there. Maybe.
He chucked his half-done cigarette away, proud of his restraint. He wanted to visit his girlfriend again before he left.
-----
He felt old as he crouched on the roof, not wanting to get his dress uniform pants dirty. He ignored the party going on in the backyard and focused on the way the lights of the city seemed to grow brighter as dusk darkened the world. He let himself get lost in his imagination again -- something he hadn't been able to do in a couple years.
The music from the party interrupted his thoughts and he turned away from the city. He was a twenty year old groom marrying a nineteen year old pregnant bride. The city had nothing for him anymore.
-----
He hadn't visited the roof of his parents' house in years, but the family Christmas gathering found him staying in his old room. He stayed awake as Kathy drifted off to sleep, and the window had captured his attention. He stared at it for a while before finally slipping out of bed and tying on his shoes; he remembered how rough the shingles could be. He wished his coat weren't downstairs, but settled for his NYPD sweatshirt instead.
The window creaked a little bit as he opened it, but Kathy just mumbled in her sleep and rolled over. He almost forgot to duck under the top of the window, remembering how short he was when he started climbing out there to think. He paused on the window sill to glance back at his wife. He knew she must be used to sleeping without him; she wouldn't even notice he was gone.
He was surprised to find his forty year old hands and feet could follow the route up to the top as easily as his teenaged body had been able to manage it. He wasn't surprised that the view of the city hadn't dulled in the years he'd been away. The lights still glittered as brightly as jewels, though he found they'd lost some of their lure. He knew what darkness they hid so well.
He shivered, and it was only mostly from the cold. He knew he couldn't stay out here much longer. His breath was a cloud of steam in front of his eyes, obscuring the view somewhat. Maybe though he could convince Kathy to move to the city when Kathleen and the twins were off to college. Kathleen would be going next year and the twins would be starting high school soon. Maybe she'd like that.
He sighed a large steam cloud of frustration. His life had been one long string of maybes. None of the maybes had ever delivered. But he had a wife he loved, he had kids he wouldn't trade for anything. He had a house in Queens and a good, rewarding job in the city. Maybe that was enough to make him forget the city lights at night.
end
author: duck
rating: pg
summary: "whatever he did in his life, he knew he'd do it in the city."
author's note: i haven't written in a while, so this was just something i was playing around with. inspired by "rooftop." thanks to ic and k for the beta.
disclaimer: not mine, just daydreaming about what i'd do if they were.
-----
The roof shingles were rough under his hands and the danger of a fall very real, but to a twelve year old, the chance of adventure was too much of a luring prospect to resist. He winced as his foot slipped and his knee smashed against the sloping roof. He felt the grit of the roof scrape his hands as he gripped it with splayed palms, pressing his body hard down into it. Don't fall, he silently begged his small frame. Even if he survived a fall -- since he was only creeping around the roof of the porch -- Mom would surely kill him for being out of his bed so late. He could almost hear her voice now. "Elliot Gregory Stabler, I told you no climbing around the roof! You need some sense smacked into you!"
Gravity still tugged at him, but with a rush of adrenaline he realized he'd conquered its pull. His sense of balance and confidence restored, he quickly scrambled the rest of the way towards the part of the second story that stooped low enough for him to hoist himself up. He paused for a moment before standing, a nagging sense of danger holding him back. His father had almost fallen from the roof last year when he and Elliot's two older brothers had been re-shingling the roof. The terror of watching the incident had stuck with him.
But without risk there was no gain, and he wanted to see the city lights shining down on his neighborhood more than he wanted that new bike he knew his parents were getting him for his birthday. So he found himself standing up on shaky legs, bracing himself against the siding of the house and praying, more fervently than he ever did in church, that his parents wouldn't hear the noise he was making. He gulped in a few deep breaths before reaching out a tentative hand to find a solid grip on the roof above him. It took another few breaths for his other hand to join his first, and still another few more before he found the courage to kick upward.
He was somewhat surprised when he found himself lying on his stomach on the second story roof, his legs dangling over the edge. He hadn't expected to make it on his first try. He pulled himself the rest of the way up, careful to not hit the side of the house with his feet. His heart was racing furiously by the time he was all the way on, kneeling with his hands still pressed against the shingles. He slowly crawled his way to the peak of the roof. The sight that presented itself made all his hard work worth it.
The glittering skyscrapers shone down on him like the lights of heaven, and he was sure God would forgive him such blasphemy because it was a very favorable comparison as far as heaven went. The Empire State Building would be the throne of God, the Chrysler Building was where Jesus stayed, and the Queensborough Bridge was the gate of heaven. Elliot smiled to himself as he pictured St. Peter standing guard over it, letting only the worthy in and sending everyone else into Hell -- which would be Jersey of course. He had to stifle his laughter as he imagined the expression on Father Benjamin's face if Elliot told him about his imaginations.
Heck, any of his dreaming would probably give the good Father a heart attack, and since Elliot liked the old man, that was one of the last things he wanted to do. He let his mind wander back to the city that spread itself out in front of him. He wanted so badly to live there, to live for the excitement and the action. Nothing ever happened around here, and his father refused to tell him any of the better stories about his day. "Maybe when you're older, Elliot. I don't want you to hear about it just yet." His father was so frustrating.
One day he'd move into Manhattan, he knew it. He couldn't bear the thought of living in Queens any longer than the next few years. He was young, but he knew enough to know he could leave his parents' house when he was eighteen and never look back, like his brother Charlie had just done. Maybe he'd be a cop like his dad, or a firefighter. Or maybe he'd hit it big in business. Whatever he did in his life, he knew he'd do it in the city.
-----
His fifteen year old hands and feet followed the familiar path across the shingles, and he barely scraped his hands anymore on the gravel. He could almost get up there on just his feet now, only using his hands to get up to the second story roof. He'd added almost eight inches to his height since he had started doing this three years ago, and the muscle he was developing playing football wasn't hurting either.
He smiled as he walked his way to the top of the roof, savoring the sweet taste of victory. His coach had assured him the starting linebacker spot on next year's varsity squad, and one of the pretty freshman girls had overheard his friends congratulating him in the hallway. She'd given him a shy smile and he'd grinned back, running his hands through his hair the way his brother Michael taught him, assuring him the girls loved that sort of thing from any of the dark-haired Stabler boys. Michael was a freshman at the community college with a girlfriend, and Elliot believed him, even if he still lived at home.
He settled himself down on the shingles, getting lost in the lights of the city again. He liked the way his stomach had flipped at the girl's smile. Maybe he'd find out her name and ask her out sometime. He was turning sixteen soon, and he figured it was about time he found himself a girlfriend. His teachers had told him he had a real good shot at college if he buckled down and applied himself, but he could worry about that later. Michael had given Elliot his Playboy collection when he'd started dating Julie, and one of the issues had a list of the most sexually-charged colleges. Elliot wanted to go to the top one.
He only wished it could be in the city; it was some place in Florida. It didn't exactly line-up with his dreams of moving into the city and an exciting life, but he could get plenty of excitement down in Florida before moving back up here. He stretched his arms over his head as he contemplated where he'd move in the city. He wanted to live somewhere nice, and somehow the consequences and necessity of money never entered into his dreaming. SoHo had always sounded nice, or maybe even the Upper West Side.
Maybe that freshman girl would be just right for him, and they could live in the city together. He felt a blush creep over his face at the thought, even as he cringed at his own embarrassment. Get a grip, Elliot, he told himself. She's just a girl.
He lost himself in dreams and the city lights again.
-----
He hardly noticed the journey to the top of the roof anymore. He settled his weary eighteen year old body down on the hard shingles and glared at the lights of the city. So much promise there, and so close. But it hadn't ever been this far out of reach before. His body still ached from boot camp, finished a week ago. He had to report back tomorrow and he wasn't looking forward to it. He reached in his pocket for his cigarettes, a habit he'd acquired during boot. As he lit one he reminded himself he was going to quit soon. Disgusting habit, really. Kath didn't want him coming over smelling like smoke anyway.
He took a long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs for as long as possible before exhaling it sharply in the direction of the city. He watched the smoke unfurl and studied the way it hazed up the city lights. Maybe when he was done with his time in the Marines he could live there. Maybe.
He chucked his half-done cigarette away, proud of his restraint. He wanted to visit his girlfriend again before he left.
-----
He felt old as he crouched on the roof, not wanting to get his dress uniform pants dirty. He ignored the party going on in the backyard and focused on the way the lights of the city seemed to grow brighter as dusk darkened the world. He let himself get lost in his imagination again -- something he hadn't been able to do in a couple years.
The music from the party interrupted his thoughts and he turned away from the city. He was a twenty year old groom marrying a nineteen year old pregnant bride. The city had nothing for him anymore.
-----
He hadn't visited the roof of his parents' house in years, but the family Christmas gathering found him staying in his old room. He stayed awake as Kathy drifted off to sleep, and the window had captured his attention. He stared at it for a while before finally slipping out of bed and tying on his shoes; he remembered how rough the shingles could be. He wished his coat weren't downstairs, but settled for his NYPD sweatshirt instead.
The window creaked a little bit as he opened it, but Kathy just mumbled in her sleep and rolled over. He almost forgot to duck under the top of the window, remembering how short he was when he started climbing out there to think. He paused on the window sill to glance back at his wife. He knew she must be used to sleeping without him; she wouldn't even notice he was gone.
He was surprised to find his forty year old hands and feet could follow the route up to the top as easily as his teenaged body had been able to manage it. He wasn't surprised that the view of the city hadn't dulled in the years he'd been away. The lights still glittered as brightly as jewels, though he found they'd lost some of their lure. He knew what darkness they hid so well.
He shivered, and it was only mostly from the cold. He knew he couldn't stay out here much longer. His breath was a cloud of steam in front of his eyes, obscuring the view somewhat. Maybe though he could convince Kathy to move to the city when Kathleen and the twins were off to college. Kathleen would be going next year and the twins would be starting high school soon. Maybe she'd like that.
He sighed a large steam cloud of frustration. His life had been one long string of maybes. None of the maybes had ever delivered. But he had a wife he loved, he had kids he wouldn't trade for anything. He had a house in Queens and a good, rewarding job in the city. Maybe that was enough to make him forget the city lights at night.
end