Title: One of Their Own
Author: SVUFanatic611
Rating: PG-13
A/N: I apologize in advance for the screwed-up tenses. I've tried to keep it consistent, but it gets pretty sticky. Sorry if it's confusing. : (
Disclaimer: SVU and its associated characters are not mine.
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Stabler Residence
QueensNY
-10:54am-
Elliot Stabler's POV
"If it were one of my kids…"
That phrase always comes into mind while on the job. I often say it to victims' parents. "If it were one of my kids…"
I never thought it would become a reality. I never thought that the roles would reverse and I'd be the one sitting at home, waiting and wondering about my daughter's whereabouts and what she was enduring. I never thought I'd be the one crying. I never thought it would happen to me.
The ending to the phrase differs, depending upon the situation. One time, it ended with, "If it were one of my kids, I wouldn't want those images in my head." It was the case where I had to travel to Prague to catch the kiddie-rapist. The mother wanted to see the obscene photos that were taken of her daughter. Looking back now, I lied. The only thing I want to know was what was happening to my baby girl. If that's only evident through photographs, then so be it.
Another time, it ended with, "If it were one of my kids, I don't know what I would do." I've said that numerous times for different situations, but, God, that's the truth. I honestly never thought that I'd be the one going through it, so I never thought twice about what my course of action would be. Now that it has happened, I'm left confused, conflicted, and lost.
The only thing that compares to the difficulty of this situation was informing my two youngest children of it. Seeing the look on both of their faces was heart-wrenching to my already strained emotions. They just didn't know what to do, how to feel, how to react. I certainly can't blame them. I feel the same way.
Kathy's holding up better than I thought she would have. I know part of her wants to be strong, not only for me, but for the remainder of her children. I also know the other part wants to break down, cry her eyes out, and die…right here, right now.
I'm here, sitting on the porch swing in my back porch, staring at nothing in particular. I'm just wondering why this is happening to me and my family and waiting to hear from Olivia. She said that she'd keep us updated, but that doesn't mean she won't get side-tracked. I don't know whether her not calling is a bad thing or a good thing. It may be a bad thing because she might not want to call, not wanting to face the truth and tell me that she doesn't have any more leads. It may be a good thing because she may be out, catching the guy who has destroyed my family and, most of all, my baby girl and may not have the time to pick up the phone.
But, then again, Olivia would call if she found Kathleen, not matter what she was doing. So, maybe her not calling is a bad thing.
Kathy's inside, trying to keep herself busy. When we came back from the press conference, she quickly found something to do. The twins were calm for the first time in their short lives and weren't fighting. They entered with us and took off their jackets, actually hanging them up. Liz went running up the stairs and into her room, closing the door behind her. By the amount of sound that was coming from her room, I could tell that she had fallen against the door, crying. I even heard her throw something across the room. She's more like me than I thought.
Dickie watched his sister with a careful, watchful eye. He heard just as much as I had, but he didn't stand there like I did. He walked up the stairs cautiously, making his way toward her room and knocked on the door. After a few knocks and reassuring, pleading words, she opened the door, and fell into his arms. It was the only time in…well, eternity…that I saw her do that. Luckily, Dickie knew when to be serious and when to be ready for sibling rivalry. He didn't complain and openly accepted his twin's need for comfort. He stroked her hair and told her everything was going to be okay. Dickie was doing something to Liz that I wanted to do to Kathleen. I wanted to hold her in my arms.
Now, the twins are in their separate rooms, quiet as ever; Kathy's in the kitchen, wiping the counter and making coffee; Maureen's out and about somewhere, trying to clear her head; the press is knocking at my door, camping out in my front yard, and calling me twenty-four/seven; and Olivia…I only wish I knew what Olivia is doing, where she is, and how far she's getting.
"El?" asks Kathy, causing me to jerk out of my thoughts. She's standing just outside the door, leaning on the doorframe, holding a mug.
"Hmm?" I ask blankly.
"Here's some coffee," she says, walking toward me and pushing the mug in front of me.
"No thanks," I reply politely with a wave of my hand.
"Elliot, you look like hell. You haven't slept in about twelve hours. You haven't eaten. You've barely talked. You need something in you. Now, just take the coffee."
She reads each sentence as if she's reciting them off a list. I look at her and her eyes are filled with desperation. I take the mug to please her, placing it on my knee, but never taking a sip.
She stares at me for a minute and then takes a seat next to me, fixating her eyes on the same thing I am…nothing. I place my arm around her shoulder and she leans back in my grasp and I notice a few tears threatening to fall.
"The twins okay?" The question is meant, not for my own personal knowledge, but to break the awful silence between us.
"Dickie's trying to drown out everything with very loud music and Liz, last time I checked on her, she was still crying. She was holding onto that stuffed cheerleader bear that Kathleen got her."
I smile despite all that goes on. Liz loves that bear and I know Kathleen loved giving it to her. The mere thought of my girls gets me to smile.
"Don't act too happy," she says cautiously. I really shouldn't be smiling with what she just said about Liz.
"No…it's just…do you remember when Kathleen got that for Liz?" My smile is still glued on, remembering the events of Liz's cheerleading competition.
Kathy starts smiling, also recalling the experience. "Yeah…Kathleen really wanted to get her something, but didn't know what."
"But, we were on our way to the stadium and she made me stop the car because she saw it in the window and I almost became part of a three-car pile-up," I say, completing the adventure. We begin to laugh slightly, reminiscing about the rest of the day.
Our laughter fades gently into the winter air and we're slowly brought back to our somber aura. Kathy leans in closer to me.
"What are we going to do, El? If she doesn't come home, what are we going to do?" she asks, looking up at me with light, hazel eyes.
I hug her closer. "I honestly don't know, Kath. Maybe it's best we just think positive right now."
At this point, I'm extremely upset and enraged with the guy called 'God'. I've had many crises of faith before and I've seriously doubted my religion and its components, but this one takes the cake. Why would he do this? What had I or anyone in this family done that was so horrible that my daughter had to be the sacrifice for? Most importantly, what had Kathleen done that stirred such a wrathy God? Why was this happening?!
I stand, starting to pace. I need to ask him all this, but I need to go somewhere where I can say it freely and where I know he can hear me. The only place that comes to mind is the church.
I take the coat off of the ledge where I had put it before, and start to leave.
"Elliot, where are you going?" she asked, pleading with me.
"I need to say a few things to the man upstairs. I'll be back in an hour or so."
Kathy silently watches me make my way to the door. I'm searching for my keys. "El, you can't shut this out. Right now, maybe we shouldn't be thinking positively. Maybe we should be thinking worst-case scenario. You can't walk away from this one."
I hear her comments, but I ignore them. I just keep searching for my keys. Where the hell could I have put them? I feel her slender fingertips grip my shoulder. This causes me to turn to her.
"Elliot, this time, it isn't just a case. This time, it's not just another victim. This time, you have to talk to me."
I stare into her eyes, not knowing what to say. As if by magic, she holds the keys in front of my face, like she's daring me to take them from her trembling hands. I gently pry them from her fingertips and make my way to the door.
"You can't blame God for everything, Elliot," she calls out as I open the door.
"Sure I can. He's the one in charge of everyone's fate, isn't he? He's the one that chooses everyone's destiny, isn't he?"
It's the last thing I say as I'm out the door and in my garage. I get in the car and prepare for the reporters. I'm glad that I don't run any of them over, although I was silently praying for it.
I get to the church fifteen minutes later. As I arrive and park the car, I notice that it's completely abandoned. Nobody's here. I make my way to the doors and I notice that I'm the only one in the church as I walk in. I know I can say whatever I need to say freely and aloud, without anyone watching me.
"Is this some sort of joke?" I ask to the large crucifix in the front of the church that hangs over the altar. My words are dripping with hatred and I can hear my voice bounce and echo off the cathedral-styled walls.
"Seriously, is this some sort of test? Is this a punishment?" I look intently at the crucifix, staring at the figure hung on it. Jesus was some sort of martyr, but that didn't mean my daughter had to be. My daughter didn't have to die for any cause. Then, why was he making her go through this?! Why was she the one being put through hell when her biggest crime was gossiping in the hallway with her friends?
"Look, I know I haven't been the best person and I've done some things I'm not proud of, but surely I've done other things to make up for them. Serving my country, stepping up when Kathy got pregnant, raising four children in the Catholic faith, putting the bad guys away, helping victims; those weren't good enough? Those didn't contribute to the retribution I owe you at all?"
My voice is now sarcastic and curt. This is great. I'm being curt with my Creator.
"Or maybe it's to prove how weak I am. Maybe it's to prove that I can't protect everyone. Well, guess what, God? I get it! Alright? I get it! I know I can't always protect her. I know I can't always save her. I can't always help her…Now just being her back. Don't make her suffer because of my own ignorance."
The last sentences are weak and not as forceful as my other declarations. It's because I'm admitting defeat. I hate that. I hate this. I hate standing here and confessing everything to him. I hate staring at that man on the cross, hung with nails pushed into his bare flesh.
I hate knowing that it's not his fault.
"Daddy?" comes a sweet voice from behind me. I turn to see Maureen. "Daddy, are you okay?"
"Maureen, what are you doing here?" I can hear myself going into father mode.
"I went back home to see how everyone was doing and when I asked where you were, Mom said you came here. I came to see how you were doing." She says this with genuine concern; I can see it in her beautiful blue eyes. They're the exact same color as mine; the same color of Kathleen's. It seems all my girls, including Liz, are daddy's girls at heart.
I don't respond to my daughter, but I embrace her and take her into a hug. She holds on to me tight, as if she'd melt if she let go. I stroke her hair and keep her close.
"Daddy, come home," she says softly. The request is concise and to the point and it sounds simple. However, I don't feel as if I can go home yet. I don't want to face anything. I just want to disappear.
"Actually, sweetheart, I was thinking about going to see Liv. Just to get an update."
"Then home?" She pleads as if she's five again.
"Yeah, then home."
"Alright, Dad. I'm trusting you. Mom really wants you home. You go see Liv and then go straight home, okay?"
"Yes, Mother," I reply, joking. The weird part was that she really did sound like her grandmother.
"I love you, Daddy."
"I love you, too, baby."
We hug and then she's out the door again. She turns around before she leaves. "Daddy, you trust the people you work with, right?"
The question confuses me, but I answer anyway. "Yeah, kiddo, I do. I trust them with my life."
"And Kathleen is part of your life, isn't she?"
I'm still perplexed, but I, again, answer. "Of course she is. She's my child."
She takes her hand off the gold doorknob and slowly makes her way back to me; talking and walking. "That means, Dad, that when you put your life in their hands, your also putting your children's lives at their fingertips."
I look down, not wanting to look at her. I want to try to figure out where she's going with this.
"Just remember you trust them, Dad. You trust them with your life and you trust them with Kathleen's. She'll come home. They'll get her home."
I don't reply; I don't know how to. I don't get a chance to because once she gives me a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, she's gone.
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SVU Squadroom
-11:42am-
The hallway to the bullpen is all too familiar, but it doesn't feel right. I used to come through halls with the expectation of, that once I got to the end, I would work. I'd put away the bad guys. But, now, it's more intimidating than ever. The hallways look ominous and gloomy and they seem like out of a scary story I once read the twins. This time, I don't get there with the expectation of being the helper, but rather, the expectation of being helped.
Olivia's there to greet me once I reach the finish line of my journey.
"El, I thought you went home after the press conference," she states simply. I guess we've given up on pleasant, simple 'hellos'.
"I did. I came back."
She stares and moves in closer to me. She begins to talk, talking softly. "El, listen. You need to go home. You said it, yourself. You all need to be together right now."
I shake my head, but her eyes seem to meet mine and follow me wherever I go. "Olivia, I just came to see how things were going."
"Nothing much has changed in the last hour. We're following the leads we're getting from the people that are calling, but you know those aren't always reliable. As soon as Munch gets back, we're going to canvas the area around the library."
She's so vague and I hate it. I guess I can understand the resistance to tell. But, that doesn't make it any easier.
"You got a minute?" I ask.
"Yeah, Munch just left. Why?"
"Come to the roof with me."
"For what, Elliot?"
"I just want to talk, but I don't know how. I don't know where I start. I figure once I'm up there, it'll just come out. I just need the right person to listen."
"Sure. Let me grab my coat."
She grabbed her leather jacket and we made our way up the stairs. The conversation was kept to a minimal as we were heading up. We arrived at the doorway and we both stepped out on to the roof and leaned over the ledge, looking at the busy city below us.
"So…" Olivia starts, sounding nervous.
" 'So…' what?" I reply, imitating her spoken word.
"Look, Stabler, you're the one who wanted me to come up here. You said that once you got up here, you could start talking, that you could let it go," she says, in a slightly sarcastic tone. I look at her expectantly. "Well, you're up here…let it all out, Elliot. I'm listening."
I feel like this was a bad idea. I feel too much on the spot.
"I…I…Oh hell, I don't know, Liv. I just don't know how to deal with it all. My daughter's missing, kidnapped by some psycho; my wife's grieving and kind of pissed that I can't talk to her about anything about this; my two youngest are actually quiet for the first time in their lives, which is never a good thing; and my first-born is pulling her psychology courses on me. I don't know what to do, Liv. I don't know how to handle this. It's so easy when I'm the one being asked these questions; when I'm the one giving the response. Now that I'm in different shoes, I'm lost. Just…completely lost."
"Elliot, things like these are never easy and if you're thinking that, because of your job, you should be able to understand everything going on and all that you're feeling, you're wrong. Nobody has all the answers all the time. You're not Superman, Elliot. You forget that sometimes. You are actually allowed to feel human emotions. You know, like feeling sad, upset, confused…and even lost."
Somehow, she always has the answers. "But, why is this happening, Liv? Why is God doing this to me?"
Olivia ponders the statement for a minute. I shouldn't have brought God into the conversation. Not with her. Call me what you want, I know she's uncomfortable when it comes to religion, mostly because she failed to have one she could firmly hold on to. The job just seemed to tear every single one of them up.
"You shouldn't blame God, Elliot. He didn't kidnap your daughter." She says it simply, but it speaks volumes.
"You're right. But, he created the bastard that did."
"Elliot, do you really think that he put someone on this earth with the intentions of them being a rapist?"
"Yeah, I do. I don't want to, but my job shows me otherwise."
"El, you've said it yourself. Consciences are grown. They're developed throughout someone's life. People we deal with become who they are because they want to be; because they feel they can become whoever they want, not because God wants them that way."
I stare at her for awhile. "My whole life I've been a Catholic and now I'm getting answers from someone who doesn't believe in God."
I probably shouldn't have said that.
"I believe in God, Elliot. It's just…different. And everyone questions their faith. It's okay to doubt him. It's okay to ask why. I know I have."
"When did you become so well-versed with Catholicism, huh?"
"I don't know."
"Yes, you do. Is everything okay?"
"Elliot, I didn't believe in the God you do, but today, I found myself praying to him when I didn't even know how to."
"You prayed?" I asked incredulously. It's not meant as derogatory remark, but it just seemed a little absurd that Olivia Benson would call out for help to anyone…especially someone who couldn't be seen, touched, or heard.
"Yeah…kinda hard to believe isn't it? I can't believe it either. I prayed forever. For Kathleen, for you, for Liz, Dickie, and Maureen, for Kathy, for the unit."
"Thank you," I say softly.
"For?"
"For praying for my family. Thank you for all that you're doing."
"It's part of the job, Elliot. Finding missing children."
"No, it's not. Queens SVU could've taken it. But, when I called you, no complaints were heard. It's not just the job."
Olivia doesn't seemed touched or show any emotion.
"It's gotta be, Elliot. It's gotta be part of the job, because if it's not, I don't know how else to deal with it."
I want to reply, but Cragen interrupts.
"Olivia, John's back. Get on that canvassing. Hey, Elliot," he says handing out orders and then noticing my presence.
"Hey, Cap."
I realize that I should get home. I've got to keep my promise to Maureen.
"I'll see you later, Cap. Thanks Olivia."
I walk off the roof, ready to face those at home. Talking to Olivia put some things into perspective, but it doesn't make anything easier. I just need Kathleen here. I need to know she's still alive; that's she's still my breathing baby girl. Even is she isn't alive, she'll always be my baby girl. Somehow, that doesn't make me feel a whole lot better.
Olivia Benson's POV
I hope he makes it home safe.
It's the last thing I think of as he leaves. I can't believe how calm he seemed. Then again, he was pretty shook up when he started talking about God and the fact that even I had prayed. However, he's been pretty numb throughout everything. Sometime, you become so wrapped up in everything and upset beyond belief, that you can't feel anything.
I had turned numb long before this case, but I could practically feel Elliot's pain as he left.
Cragen watched him leave and then turned to me.
"Olivia, find John." It's not the first and it won't be the last time he's had to remind me to stay focused during this case.
I stare at him for awhile, contemplating him. He seems pretty concerned, but he was never one to wear his emotions on his sleeves.
"Everything okay, Olivia?" he asks worriedly.
"It's just…I made a promise to him, Don. When this first started, I promised him that I'd find her; that I'd bring her home."
He makes his way next to me and puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. No words are spoken, but the actions speak for themselves.
I start to leave as he calls my name. "Olivia…"
I turn, preparing to listen. "Olivia, now is not the time to making promises…especially if you don't know if you can keep them."
I nod, knowing that it's the truth. I make my way down the stairs and to John sitting in the car. Sometimes, it's as if we're absolutely nowhere.
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A/N – well, hope you enjoyed it. Besides the second chapter, this one is my favorite! I told you I'd would add Elliot. ;) Anyway, hope you liked it and the last line was compliments of The West Wing. It means that sometimes, you're so conflicted and pulled in so many different directions, you're left nowhere. So, review and tell me what you think. Chapter 2 of Setting My Sights is coming up. Question: Do you want a separate post or just another chapter added to the other one? And, chapter 8 of this will be out…once I write it! ) Until next chapter, adios! –Jessica