Set in January 2005, but no spoilers as it's total AU. Usual gang is around, and Kathy and Elliot are still married. One change, actually, Cabot is still ADA. Pretend 'Loss' never happened. No good reason, other than I prefer Cabot to Novak.
No summary as of yet, you'll figure out what you need to know as the story progresses. Maybe I will as well ;) I have no idea where this is going. Procedure in the Church may not be 100 accurate, been a while since I was there. I'm not sure if the time hopping is too much, hopefully it's clear enough to follow.
Main characters not mine, I'm just borrowing. I promise to return them intact, though Olivia may be a bit worse for the wear. I suppose you could call Mark, Susan and Michael Roberts, Peter Jackson and John O'Reilly my own, but if you want them, enjoy.
Comments loved.
What Could Have Been: Missing Him
Chapter 1/?
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Mt. Carmel Church
The Bronx
January 27, 2005
Olivia stood on the sidewalk in front of the Church in her dress uniform. Two uniformed officers were in front of her, and one was on the right side of the casket, which was resting on its base until the procession began. Three uniformed officers, two Detectives and a Lieutenant serving as pallbearer. She looked around at the sea of police officers.
She'd attended way too many of these in her time on the Force. In the days, weeks and months after 9/11 she got numb, but you never get used to it, never. After trying her hardest to get the other Detective to turn around by staring at his back, she searched the crowd for a comforting face. Her eyes eventually locked with those of her Captain, standing a few feet behind her and to her right.
"Are you OK?" Cragen mouthed. He knew she wasn't OK in the usual sense, this was not a duty anyone wanted, but he meant at the moment, was she OK to serve as pallbearer.
Olivia nodded. She knew what he meant. She was glad he was there. Close enough in case she needed him. He would attend the funeral of any member of the NYPD, but this funeral was different. She knew that somewhere in the crowd, not far from them, were Fin and Munch as well.
Olivia faced forward again, not wanting to see anyone else. She sighed, inspecting her white gloves for any dirt. There wasn't any. There hadn't been any of the other five times she'd checked in the last ten minutes either. Elliot looked over at her from his spot on the right side of the casket. She'd been very quiet since they arrived, accepting his hug, but not saying much. "Sleep OK?" he'd asked.
She shook her head, "You?"
"Neither." And that had been the extent of their conversation that morning. Though the fallen officer, Mark Roberts, didn't work in close proximity to them, in Manhattan even, they all knew him well and felt his loss.
Olivia finished looking at her gloves and looked over at Elliot, a trace of tears in her brown eyes. He wished he could go to her, but the Mass was about to start. As the first notes of the funeral procession began, Elliot indicated upward with his pointer finger, their signal over the last few days. Olivia nodded, forcing a slight smile. "Thank you," she mouthed, as she bent to lift the casket. As the procession began, Olivia thought back to how this whole nightmare had begun.
Special Victims Unit
Squad Room
January 24, 2005
"Olivia, can I see you for a moment?" Cragen called from his office door.
"Be right there," Olivia said, rising from her desk.
"What's up?" Elliot asked from across their shared desk.
"No idea," Olivia said, truthfully.
"Hope you don't get detention," Elliot said with a laugh.
"Ha ha," Olivia said, as she walked toward Cragen's office. Walking into the Captain's office, she immediately noticed the presence of a uniformed officer. "Hi, Pete," she said. Peter Jackson wasn't Mark's partner, but he worked as closely with him as Olivia did with Munch or Fin. As it dawned on her that Pete wouldn't be down this way, from the Bronx, unless something was up, she heard the door shut behind her. 'Wha-What happened?' Olivia asked. Not getting an immediate answer from Pete, she turned to Cragen. "Tell me, please."
It seemed like ten minutes to Olivia, but in reality was only a few seconds before Don put his hand on her forearm and began to speak. "Mark and John were on patrol when they were called to a domestic dispute. A woman was complaining that her husband was threatening her, but there was no mention of a weapon. When they arrived on the scene, the wife thought the husband had fled the house. Mark and John were checking the house when the husband surprised them."
"Which hospital is he in?" Olivia asked.
"I'm sorry Liv," Cragen said.
"No," she said sharply, pulling her arm away from Cragen. Turning to Peter, she said, "Please, where is he?"
Peter shook his head, finally finding his voice. "He died on the scene."
Olivia blinked back tears, "And John, is he?"
"He was shot in the arm, but he returned fire and killed the husband. He uh, he asked me to come tell you."
Olivia nodded, "Is he with Susan and Michael?"
"Yes, but he wanted me to tell you that Mark said..." There was a pause as Peter reached in his pocket for a piece of paper where he'd written the message. "He said 'Love Mom, Dad, Liv...And tell Liv I...there for them.'" Peter said slowly, reciting it as John had told it to him. "I'm sorry, Olivia," Peter said, reaching for Olivia's arm, but she pulled back.
"I need air," she said, heading to the door.
"Go take a walk," Cragen said. "Take whatever time you need."
Olivia opened the door and strode through the bullpen, not even stopping to get her coat, or look at Elliot. She heard him call, "Liv?" but she didn't stop. She wasn't sure where she was headed, but she needed air. It felt as if the walls were closing around her. A few minutes later, she found herself on the roof, gulping for air.
"This can't be happening," she said. "Not now."
She thought about the last two and a half years, she'd been happier than she'd ever remembered being. She'd met Mark one evening at a play, not even knowing he was a cop. They'd both just gone to the bar during intermission and had struck up a conversation while they waited on line. After the play, the friend she'd gone with had to get home, and Mark had come to the show alone so they'd gone out for coffee and exchanged numbers. Pretty soon, they were spending most non-working evenings together. They'd celebrate their third anniversary in May, and they were talking about a trip to celebrate.
Olivia had no idea how long she'd been standing up there when she felt something on her shoulders. She turned slightly and saw Elliot there, and he'd draped her jacket on her shoulders. "Did we get a call?" she asked.
Elliot shook his head. "I just didn't want you to freeze up here." He could see the tear tracks on her cheeks, but had no idea what happened.
"How'd you know where to find me?"
"Six years together, lucky guess," Elliot said.
"Cap told you what happened?" Olivia asked, knowing he wouldn't have done that, but hoping he would have so that she wouldn't have to.
"No," Elliot said.
Olivia took a deep breath, and then blurted it out in a quick breath, thinking it would be easier. "Mark's dead."
"What? How?" Elliot asked, shocked.
"Domestic dispute, surprised by the husband," Olivia said, reciting it as if it were off a report. She was in shock, Elliot realised.
"I'm so sorry Liv," Elliot said, wrapping his arms around her. She rested her head on his shoulder, but the tears didn't come. "Is there anything I can do?"
As they reached the front of the Church, they rested the casket on the base. Olivia swallowed a lump as they turned back to the pews. Mark's parents were in the first row on the right side. As she reached their row, she offered her hand to Mark's father, who was sitting on the end. "Thanks for doing this, Olivia," he said.
She nodded, unable to speak, at first. Finding her voice, she said, "I wouldn't be anywhere else." Olivia, Elliot and the other pallbearers took their seats in the first pew on the left side. Olivia took the seat closest to the wall, closest to the door.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to honour and remember Mark Roberts," the Priest started. That was all Olivia could recall from the Mass, when she was asked about it later as her mind started to wander.
The past four days had been a blur. Cragen had given her the time off, of course, but she'd come in each day before going to the wake in the late afternoon. There was nothing she could do for Mark's family, and she couldn't sit home. Burying herself in her work was what she always did best.
She was OK the day it happened. She'd stayed on the roof with Elliot for a bit before getting a call from Mark's father.
Special Victims Unit
The Roof
January 24, 2005
"Benson," she said, surprised at her cell ringing. Elliot was up here with her, and Cragen, Munch and Fin would guess where she was.
"Hi, Olivia," a somber voice said.
"Michael," she said, walking away from Elliot.
Respecting her privacy, Elliot tapped her on the shoulder as she walked away. She turned and he gestured downward. "I'll come back up if you need me," he whispered. "Just call."
Olivia nodded, "Thank you," she mouthed. Turning her full attention back to the call, she continued. "I...I just got the news. I'm so sorry." She fumbled for words, not knowing what to say. "Do you and Susan need anything? What can I do?"
"Thank you," Michael said. "We're OK. John is here, as is their Lieutenant. I just wanted to see how you were doing?"
"Thank you," she said, touched by their concern for her at this time. "I'm..." Olivia trailed off. She wasn't OK, but certainly their grief was worse than hers. She'd had him for two and a half years, they'd had him for thirty-one. "I'm numb," she finally admitted.
"I think we all are," Michael said. "Can I ask you a favour?"
"Name it," Olivia said, reaching in her jacket pocket for a pen.
"Susan would like to see you, so would I. Can you come by tonight?"
"Of course," Olivia said. She'd wanted some space when she got the news, but she dreaded the thought of going home. Alone. She and Mark had spoken earlier and he was supposed to be off earlier and had said he'd start dinner.
Alone. Olivia thought. For years, she'd treasured her space, fiercely guarded her privacy. But now, she hated the thought of being alone. Being without Mark. "Let me wrap up a few things here, and I'll come over with dinner. Pizza OK?"
"Sure," Michael said. "Thank you."
It was nice to spend the evening with them; they'd helped one another. She had a feeling why they wanted to see her, to connect with Mark. He'd spent a lot of time with Olivia lately, she'd been with him on his last night alive, and his parents wanted to feel close. Olivia wanted to help them as well. In the last two plus years, they'd grown close. Not having a family of her own, she felt very welcome with them.
"Mark loved you, Olivia," Susan had said.
"And I loved him," Olivia had responded.
"I still love him," she thought to herself as the Priest spoke. She fingered the necklace he'd given her for Christmas, and the charm that hid beneath her sweater when she visited Mark's parents. Today, the necklace was tucked beneath her uniform. She'd never take it off.
She still carried a piece of him with her.
To Be Continued…December 22, 2004
A/N: Yes, shorter than what I normally write, but when I wrote the whole bit, I decided to break it up here to serve as an intro. Please don't hurt me. If you do, I can't finish the fic.