A/N: I need help folks so I'm asking you guys, The Awesome Readers. I have quite a bit of ground to cover before we finish this story up, but I have a few ideas on how I want to end it. Problem is, it depends on E & O's fate. Let me put it to you guys: Should they be convicted or fail once again to get caught? Privately, email me your vote and I'll give the people what they want (of course, it won't be revealed until the last chapter.) Or, ya'll can just leave it up to me. Thanks!

Lyrics from "Sometimes You Can't Make it On Your Own" by U2

Tough, you think you've got the stuff
You're telling me and anyone
You're hard enough

You don't have to put up a fight
You don't have to always be right
Let me take some of the punches
For you tonight

Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don't have to go it alone

And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you when I don't pick up the phone
Sometimes you can't make it on your own

Byron stared at his son in surprise. He had stopped at the diner to pick up a quick bite to eat before heading back out on his patrol.

"El, what's up? You-" It was then that he caught sight of Olivia. His face visibly darkened, but he quickly pulled on his cop face. "You wanna grab something with me before I have to get back to work?" he asked, pointedly ignoring Olivia.

Not noticing Olivia behind him, Elliot shook his head. "Your…you may not want to go in there," he said harshly. "Olivia Benson's in there."

"So?" Byron said, feigning innocence. "Who cares?"

"She told me everything, Dad, everything, everything you did," Elliot said in a rush, as if he could say it quickly, it wouldn't hurt so much. "How you been cheating on mom, raping and beating up Olivia-"

Quick as lightning, Byron reached out and seized Elliot by the throat, cutting off the angry torrent of words. Olivia gasped silently. She wanted to get help, but she couldn't move, frozen in place as the family drama unfolded before her.

"Shut. Up." Byron said menacingly. "What the fuck is wrong with you to talk to me like that. You gonna take that cunt's word over mine? She's just a piece of ass Elliot, just like her mother. That's all women are Elliot. A piece of ass."

Elliot struggled against his grip. When Byron was positive he had driven his point home, he released Elliot who stumbled, coughing. Byron threw Olivia a look, telling her to get lost, but still she was frozen.

Elliot straightened up, his face bright red from the lack of oxygen. As soon as he was sure he had caught his breath, he slammed his fist into the side of his father's face with all his weight behind it, knocking the older man to the ground.

"Elliot!" Olivia screamed. She watched in horror as Elliot followed him down, screaming in rage.

Elliot was on top of Byron now, wildly punching his face, head, neck and chest. The feel of his father's flesh beneath his fists fed the rage that he had possessed ever since he was a small child. Byron fought back hard, just as strong as Elliot, as the two men rolled across the ground, pounding each other mercilessly.

Olivia was finally spurred into action. She ran back into the diner to get help, knowing things were only going to get worse, fast.

Mistakenly thinking he had successfully disabled him, Elliot tried to stand up, but his father kicked him hard in the thigh. Grunting, Elliot immediately went back down, throwing punches left and right as Byron claimed the upper hand.

Olivia ran back outside, followed by four male patrons and the owner of the diner. The group of men converged on the scuffling duo, wrenching the two apart. Olivia ran up to Elliot and tried to throw her arms around him, as if that could protect him from his father.

"Good Lord…" the diner owner, Mr. Willie cursed, as he surveyed the damage inflicted by father and son. He made the sign of the cross. He called to one of his waitresses. "Marsha, call 911."

"What? No," Byron said, trying to take control of the situation. He was a police officer dammit, he wasn't going to the hospital for having a fight with his son. He wasn't unaware of how bad he looked, but every inch of his body was shooting intense pain signls into his brain. Suddenly, his legs gave out on him and he slumped to the ground gritting his teeth.

Elliot was in equally bad shape. He bent over and grabbed his knees, struggling to catch his breath. He could feel the blood pouring from his nose, hear it splattering the ground below. Olivia kept a hand on his back, slowly rubbing it, whispering words of comfort.

"You two look like the devil had his way with you," Mr. Willie said, shaking his hand reprovingly. "Wait for the ambulance."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Elliot could hear the sirens in the distance. He and his father stared at each other from across the battle zone with venom in their eyes, like two prize pit bulls ready to pounce should their handlers unhook their leashes. And so it was, until the paramedics bundled them into separate rigs and sped away.

XXXXXXX

Olivia was waiting in the hallway of the hospital for Elliot to be released, feeling extremely uncomfortable and inferior. The source of her discomfort, Elliot's mother, was sitting across from her, trying to coax Elliot's little sister to sit down.

Olivia studied the other woman. Perfectly curled hair, and milky white skin met a starched white blouse, modest plaid skirt and sensible shoes She looked like she belonged on the cover of Good Housekeeping, Olivia thought. What in the world possessed a woman like that to marry Byron Stabler? The contrast between Elliot's mother and her own was striking.

Feeling the eyes of the teenager on her, Dora Stabler kept her eyes primly pointed away choosing instead to focus on her youngest child. She looked up as the doctor came down the hall.

"Mrs. Stabler? We're just stitching a few cuts, treating a few bruises and, in Elliot's case, taping a few ribs," the elderly doctor said kindly. "But they'll both be fine."

Olivia and Dora breathed a collective sigh of relief. The doctor turned to Olivia. "Are you…Olivia?"

Olivia glanced at Dora, unsure. "Yeah…yes."

He smiled. "I was told to give this to you," he said, handing her a small, folded piece of paper.

Olivia accepted it and flipped it open. Meet me at the shack tonight at midnight. Bring clothes, whatever else you need to get outta town.

Quickly, refolding the note she stood up to leave but stopped and turned toward Dora Stabler. She felt compelled to say something to the woman, she just didn't know what would be deemed appropriate at a time like this.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry he's your husband," she said dumbly. Smooth, Olivia.

"Well, it would seem as if your mother and I are attracted to the same type of man, so I suggest you apologize to her as well," she answered coolly. Olivia's cheeks deepened a crimson red. Nodding her apology, she turned to leave.

"Olivia?"

Great. Timidly, she turned around.

"Olivia is a very pretty name," Dora Stabler's face had softened.

"Thank you," Olivia replied, her voice barely audible, still embarrassed by her faux pas.

"My son…" she continued. "Thank you for loving him."

Olivia gave the older woman her first real smile of the night. Then she turned and walked out, her mind on the meeting ahead.

XXXXXXX

Elliot unfolded himself painfully from the low seat of the Camaro. Shit, he thought. This was going to be rough going. He felt the pain from his ribs threaten to topple him. He saw Liv's bright green Bug parked outside of the "Love Shack" as they affectionately called it. He shuffled up the steps and let himself inside.

Olivia was sitting on a chair, waiting for him. She jumped up and silently gave him a tender hug, which he instinctively returned. They held each other for a long time before reluctantly pulling apart.

"How's your family? Was…was it rough?"

Elliot did a half shrug. "No, no one said anything to each other the entire time. My Mom took us home and set us both up in our respective rooms. She never asked what had started it, which isn't unusual for her or my family. My bro came home and thought we were all on crack though. I snuck out after everyone was asleep."

He looked for her suitcase, but didn't see it, just a small shopping bag. "Where's your stuff?"

Olivia pursed her lips. "I'm not running away with you, Elliot."

Elliot gingerly sat down. "'We' aren't running away, 'you' are," he corrected her. "I'm convinced that he will eventually kill you. I would go with you, I want to go with you, but I have to protect my family. I can't abandon them to that monster. But you can't stay here, it's not safe."

"It's not now, but it will be." Silently, she pulled out a six-inch blade and a handgun from the shopping bag and set both items on the table. Elliot's eyes widened.

"Liv…what the fuck?"

She swallowed. "That's what I was trying to tell you at the diner," she said. "I'm going to kill your father, Elliot. I'm sorry. I can't let him terrorize me or my mother anymore. But…I love you so much. More than I love myself. I had to tell you first, to give you the chance to save his life."

He was transfixed by the weapons before him. Dazed, he looked up at her. "Save his life?"

Olivia nodded. She looked at him steadily in the eyes. "You can get up and leave this shack and report me to the police right now," she said quietly. "I'll be put in jail, but he'll have to stay away from my mother, too much heat will be on him.

"But if you don't," she continued, "I am going to kill him. Tonight. And I will make him suffer, slowly, for everything he did to us. I want you to know that. That I will torture him without blinking an eye.

But, I love you. You've given me the best six months of my life. I'm giving you the choice. To choose for him."

It was so quiet in the shack as Elliot digested the information and Olivia waited for his final decision.

"You're not gonna kill him tonight…" he said slowly, finally speaking up.

Olivia closed her eyes. Elliot had spared his father. So be it.

"…wait until he goes back to work."

Olivia's eyes popped open. "…what?"

Elliot shifted painfully in his chair. He knew what he had to do. He had to do something to bring back honor to the Stabler name. He was just ashamed that he hadn't done it sooner. "When he gets back to work," he repeated. "We'll take him then…I know what we can do."

Olivia wasn't sure if she had heard correctly. "We? Elliot…Elliot, no…"

"Yes," he said firmly. He reached for Olivia's hand and clasped it in his own. "I can't let you do this alone. He's my father…my burden. My responsibility. I can't let him continue to hurt people. Especially the people I love. Especially you. If we do this, we do it together."

Olivia bit her lip. "I would never…ask this of you…"

"It's done," he said brusquely. On to the matter at hand. "You've got the tools to do the job, but you forgot the most important part of the plan."

"What?"

"How to get away with it."