Chapter 9

Stabler's cellphone rang and he reached for it while his eyes remained glued to the journal page in front of him. "Stabler," he said automatically, his eyes never leaving the page.

"Help me! Please! I don't know what to do." The voice was small and sad, and lost. The pain that radiated through it pulled Stabler's attention immediately from his work.

He checked the readout on his phone, but it displayed an unfamiliar number. "Of course I'll help you, but you have to tell me something first - who is this and where are you? I'll come right there and help you, but I need to know where you are."

As he was speaking into the phone, Stabler rose to his feet and leaned over his partner's desk to snap his fingers in front of her. When he had her attention, he pointed to his phone and quickly jotted down the number that appeared in his display and handed it to her. She nodded understanding and started to rise to her feet to order a trace when she suddenly stopped and began looking for something on her desk. She pulled a small sheet of notepaper from under the pile, looked at it, then handed it to Stabler.

He shot her a frustrated glare, but quickly glanced at the paper and his eyes widened. It was a sheet from one of Casey Novak's personalized pads. On it was a note that read, 'I got a cellphone for David from Victim Services in case we need to reach him or he needs to reach us in an emergency. I programmed all our numbers in it for him. His number is (212) 555-4787.'

The small voice on the other end of the phone was speaking again and Stabler forced his attention back to it, absently shoving the note in his shirt pocket where it couldn't get buried again.

"I . . . I don't know. He left me alone. In a bed. I don't know where. I'm afraid. He's going to come back soon and hurt me again." The boy started to cry.

"David," Stabler said forcefully. "David, listen to me. It's Detective Stabler. It's Elliot. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Y-y-yes," came the small frightened voice.

"Everything is going to be all right. Do you understand me? Olivia and I are coming to get you. Everything is going to be fine. Just stay on the line with me til we get there."

Stabler put his hand over the phone as Benson rushed back over to him. "I checked with the officers stationed outside the apartment building. He went up to his apartment around 9:00 and hasn't left."

"Then he's probably having a nightmare and can't pull himself out of it. He sounds like a little kid again. Like he did in the Dean's office. You're going to have to drive so I can keep talking to him," he added, tossing her the car keys.

He turned back to the phone, "David, are you still there?"

"Yes." The voice sounded sleepy now.

"Are you tired?"

"Uh-huh."

"I need you to do something for me before you go back to sleep."

"What?"

"Can you go into the living room and unlock the front door for me."

"No! No! I can't!" The boy's voice held pure terror. "He might be out there, out there waiting for me. I'm not supposed to leave the room. He punishes me if I leave the room."

"It's okay, David. It's okay. You stay right where you are then. Stay there where it's safe. You don't have to leave the room."

There was a short silence when all the detective could hear was the sound of panicked breathing, then the small, unsteady voice finally whispered, "It's okay? I don't have to go?"

"No, you don't have to go, David. It's okay for you to stay right there."

"You're not mad at me, are you? Please don't be mad. I didn't mean to be bad. I didn't mean to talk back. I'm sorry." The boy's voice was trembling with fear. "Will you still come get me? I don't want to stay here any more. I don't want him to hurt me any more."

"It's okay, David. I'm coming. I'm not going to leave you there. It's going to be okay. I'll be there soon."

"Soon. Going to come soon." The words were slightly slurred.

"David, do you have a blanket nearby?"

"Uh huh."

"You said you were sleepy before. Why don't you lay down and try to go to sleep. You can keep the phone next to you. I'll be right here."

"Promise?" The voice was slurry with sleep now.

"I promise. It's okay, David. It's okay to go to sleep."

"'kay." Then there was only silence punctuated by the sound of the boy's soft, even breathing.

Benson shot a quick glance at her partner and saw the anguish on his face. The hand holding the phone was trembling slightly -- she wasn't sure whether it was out of fear or anger. "The officers stationed outside his place are ready to go in. Just say the word."

"Not yet," Stabler replied. "As long as he's in this state, having total strangers bust down his door is only going to scare him more. I don't want to do that unless it's absolutely necessary."

"I haven't been able to reach Dr. Wilcox yet, but Huang in standing by in case we need him. He thinks David will be okay if we can just get him to wake up."

Stabler nodded as they reached the car and climbed in.

The twenty minute ride to David's apartment felt interminable to Stabler as he held the phone pressed against his ear, listening to the steady, even breathing that was occasionally interrupted by a soft murmur or a muffled cry. Elliot's heart raced every time one of those sounds reached his ear until he was able to identify it as coming from the boy and not from someone who had stolen into the room with him.

The car pulled up in front of the building and Stabler was halfway out before it came to a complete stop. Benson shouted after him, "Johnson and the super are waiting to let you in. I'll be right up."

Johnson's partner was waiting in the lobby and quickly opened the security door as the detective sprinted up the outside stairs. "Johnson tried knocking a couple of times, Detective, but there's no answer."

"Okay, thanks," Stabler muttered as he rushed past with the phone still pressed to his ear, then raced down the hall to the elevator, slapping the call button repeatedly in irritation until the doors finally began to part. He slid inside before they were completely open, hit the button for the fifth floor then slapped the 'door close' button repeatedly until the recalcitrant doors finally closed and the elevator made its slow and steady way up through the bowels of the building.

Benson parked the car, locked it and sprinted up the stone stairs leading to the vestibule. Just before she reached the entrance, she caught movement toward the side of the building out of the corner of her eye. She skidded to a stop and looked intently, finally making out a figure dressed in dark clothes making its way down the fire escape.

The officer stationed inside the lobby saw her stop and stare and moved quickly to the door with a concerned look on his face, his hand resting on his gun.

"Benson, Special Victims Unit," she said automatically when he finally opened the door. "Come with me. There's someone on that fire escape over there. It might be our perp. Protect yourself, but don't shoot him unless you have no other choice."

Stabler reached the apartment door just as Officer Johnson's radio flared to life. "Johnson, the other detective's with me. We've spotted someone on the fire escape climbing down from that side of the building. We're going to bag him," Johnson's partner reported.

At the officer's agonized look, Stabler said, "Go ahead and back your partner up. And take care of mine while you're at it. I can handle this."

Johnson nodded gratefully and took off down the hall toward the stairs, not bothering to wait for the slow-moving elevator.

"Open it," Stabler said impatiently to the super, who pulled out the key and fumbled it into the lock. The door sprang open but stopped moving again when it reached the end of the play on the interior chain lock. Stabler threw his entire weight against the door and heard the groan of splintering wood, but the chain didn't give. He threw himself against the door again and was rewarded by the satisfying sound of the plate tearing loose from the wall.

"Stay back," he barked at the super as he pulled his gun from its holster and trained it around the room. The living room was very obviously empty so he did a quick check of the kitchen before heading toward the bedroom. Since most of the lights in the apartment were on, it would have been difficult for an intruder to find a place to hide, but the detective quickly checked the closet, then the bathroom, before moving to the window leading to the fire escape.

He stood for a long moment looking at the interior window that was open about an inch and the screen and storm window that were all the way up before finally holstering the gun and quickly closing and locking the windows.

"Is everything okay?" the super asked in a nervous voice from the bedroom doorway as he stared curiously at the figure curled up in the comforter in the center of the bed.

"It looks like someone might have been trying to get in from the fire escape," Stabler said gruffly. "I think we scared him off. My partner and the two officers are apprehending him."

"Mother of God! We haven't had anything like this happen in a long time. Is David all right? He's such a nice boy. It would be terrible if anything happened to him."

"It looks like he slept through the whole thing," Stabler said as he moved toward the bedroom door to force the man back into the living room. "I'll take care of waking him up. Why don't you go downstairs and wait in the lobby to let my partner and the two officers back in after they catch the guy. It's pretty cold outside to keep them standing around out there."

"Yeah, sure," the super said. "I can do that."

"Oh, Mr. . . . ,"

"Dinkins, Claude Dinkins," the man replied turning back to face Stabler.

"The department will pay for replacing the chain, but can you take care of it first thing in the morning?"

"Ack, don't worry about the cost. We got plenty of that stuff down in the storage room. As long as David's okay, that's all that matters. He's a good boy. He sees me struggling with trash or leaves, he runs right over and helps. Not like the rest of those hoity toity kids who think because they go to college they're too good for manual labor."

Stabler followed the man to the door and gave him a grateful smile as he closed it in his face. He stood there for a moment with one hand on the knob and the other against the door trying to regain control of his turbulent emotions. The adrenaline was slowly receding but it was taking its time and right now all he wanted to do was punch something, repeatedly, as hard as he could.

Before he could get his emotions totally under control, he heard a harsh sound come from the bedroom, then David's voice. "No! Don't! Don't go. Please, come back. Don't leave me again!"

Stabler rushed back to the bedroom and saw David sitting in the middle of the bed with his arms wrapped around his legs and tears streaming down his face. He was looking around the room desperately as if searching for someone.

"David! David, it's Elliot. Are you okay?" he said as calmly but forcefully as he could, while he slowly inched closer to the bed, trying not to frighten the boy by too loud a voice or too quick movements.

Gallagher blinked several times and looked at him in confusion. "Elliot? What are you doing here? What happened?"

"You were having a nightmare. You called me and asked me to come help you."

"I . . . I sort of remember that. I was dreaming about when I was away. It was after Mike -- the guy who took me away -- didn't want me any more. There was a man he gave me to, a bad man. One of the worst. He was going to hurt me again. He liked hurting me. He liked it when I cried, that really turned him on." The boy shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around himself.

"Then I saw the cellphone there beside me and picked it up and pushed the button Ms. Novak showed me. Then someone was telling me everything was okay, that I could go back to sleep. Was that you?"

"Yes."

"I . . . I thought the whole thing was a dream, but I guess it wasn't, not all of it. Can we go in the other room? I need a glass of water."

"Sure," Stabler said, not allowing his relief at the change in venue to show on his face.

David got unsteadily to his feet and followed him out of the room, the comforter still clutched tightly around him. Stabler went to the kitchen, poured a glass of water and brought it over to the couch where the young man had settled himself and handed it to him. He watched as David took a quick gulp of the water, then clutched the glass nervously in both his hands and stared guiltily into it instead of looking at the detective.

"What is it, David? What happened that upset you so much?"

"Just . . . ." He swallowed and tried again. "Justin called right after I got home. I know I shouldn't have answered the phone, but I thought it might be Jess and I wanted to talk to her. He said all sorts of horrible things. He called me a liar and kept ranting about how we're supposed to be together. It scared me so bad. I told him to stop calling, to leave me alone, but he kept ranting at me. When he finally hung up, I unplugged the phone and just curled up on the bed and tried to sleep. That's when I had the nightmare."

David took another deep drink of the water. "Then . . . then I . . . I went to sleep like you told me to and when I opened my eyes again my mother was sitting beside me. She looked so sad, so worried. Then she smiled at me. She said she knew I'd been going through a really difficult time, but she wanted me to know that she and my father still love me and are proud of me for not giving up. She said she knows how hard it's been for me and that it's going to get even harder, but she knows I'll do the right thing. She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead the way she used to when I was a little boy and she was tucking me in at night. She said I should never forget how much she loves me. I felt so warm, so safe, like nothing bad could ever happen to me. Then I woke up and she was gone."

David was crying again, his body shaking with sobs as the tears flowed down his face. "I miss her so much, Elliott. I don't know how to get through this without her. I don't think I can. I don't think I can do it."

Stabler put his arms around the boy and held him as he cried, the deep, broken-hearted sobs ripping his own heart to shreds. "It's okay, David," he crooned softly. You don't have to do it. No one is going to make you. It'll be okay."

A sudden insistent knocking on the apartment door made the detective jump and his arms tightened protectively around the young man. He debated letting go of him long enough to reach for his weapon as he called out in a strained voice, "Who is it?"

"Olivia."

"Come in," Stabler said with relief, trying to keep his voice steady despite the flood of emotion overwhelming him. "The door's unlocked."

Benson heard something odd in her partner's voice and rushed through the door with her hand on her weapon. The hand dropped to her side as she saw David sobbing uncontrollably in Elliott's arms. Her partner's eyes were full of pain as they looked at her. It sent a shiver through her to see how clearly overwhelmed he was by the situation and how deeply he was relating to the young man's pain.

"What is it? What happened?" she asked with concern as she crossed the room to kneel beside them and lay a comforting hand on David's back.

"Justin called. That's what triggered the nightmare. Then he had a dream that his mother was here with him, but he woke up alone. It really upset him," Stabler explained in a hushed voice. He looked down at the man-child cradled in his arms, then back at his partner, eyes filled with compassion and determination as they locked on hers. "He can't do it, Liv. And we can't make him. I'm not going to make him. He's been through enough already."

Benson sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She could tell by the look on her partner's face that there was no reasoning with him about this, and looking at the grief-stricken boy in his arms she had to agree. This time it couldn't matter that they would be allowing a predator to stay on the street, not if it meant destroying this kid to keep him locked up.

David's sobs finally subsided and he settled against Elliot's chest, one arm tucked between his body and Elliott's side, the other resting lightly beside his face against Elliott's chest, just above his heart. The comforter had slid down to pool around the boy's waist and Stabler automatically pulled it up and settled it around his shoulders, instinctively wanting to hold him tighter to give comfort and a sense of security but feeling a flicker of unease at the intimacy of the embrace. Trying to distract himself, he asked softly, "Did you get the guy? Was it him?"

Benson shook her head. "We got him, but it wasn't Justin. Just some kid who broke into an apartment to steal some electronics. Johnson and Biggs took him to the station to be processed. I told them we'd watch over things here til they got back."

"Okay," Stabler said distantly, and she knew he'd stopped listening as soon as he heard the perp wasn't Justin. Finally he said very softly, "He was here, Liv. It might not have been him that time, but he was here. The window in David's bedroom was open about an inch, just like the one in Justin's room. He was here."

Benson watched her partner's face carefully, knowing he was rerunning every second of the phone conversation through his mind, searching for a clue that one of the sounds he'd heard had really been Justin, standing silently in the room while David lay there defenseless in sleep, possibly preparing to harm him.

"We'll get him, Elliott. He's not going to hurt David again."

Stabler stared at her for a moment as if debating whether to argue, before finally nodding agreement.

"How's he doing," she whispered softly a few moments later.

"He's settling down. He should be totally out soon."

"That's good," she said with a concerned smile, not sure what else to say.

Stabler felt David move restlessly in his arms at the sound of the soft voices. His eyes blinked open sleepily and he looked up at Elliott with a sweet, sleepy smile and began running his hand up and down his chest. "Can we go to bed now, Kristian? I'm really tired." The words were said in the soft childlike voice David used when he was lost in one of his memories, but they still hit the detective hard.

Benson saw her partner's body tense and thought for a moment that he was going to push the boy off him and jump as far away from him as he could get. She saw the battle raging across Stabler's face but said nothing because she didn't know what the right answer was.

Finally, she saw him grit his teeth, then tentatively reach up and pat the boy on the shoulder. "It's okay, David. You don't have to move, you can sleep here. Everything is going to be okay."

"Um hmm," the boy murmured as he settled deeper against Elliott's chest, already drifting away.

Stabler looked up at his partner, the expression on his face daring her to say he'd done the wrong thing.

"It's okay, Ell. He's upset and he needs to sleep. It . . . it doesn't mean anything. Once he's deeply asleep we can move him."

Stabler nodded, some of the tension leaving his shoulders, as he leaned back against the sofa and closed his weary eyes wishing he could escape into sleep too, but doubting that would be happening this night.

Stabler waited impatiently for the coffeemaker to finish its burbling and give him the caffeine shot his body so desperately needed. It had been a long night and an even longer day lay before him.

Once David had fallen asleep it had been almost half an hour before they'd chanced moving the exhausted young man off Elliott's chest. To their great relief, he'd remained deeply asleep. Benson had gotten a pillow and some more blankets from the bedroom and settled David as comfortably as possible on the sofa, tucking the blankets snugly around him while Stabler called George Huang to ask for advice about the situation.

Huang had been concerned about the breakdown, but had advised them to let the boy sleep for the time being and not compound his trauma by taking him to the hospital. He'd seemed confident David would be back to normal when he woke up, and that the episode had been triggered by the phone call from Justin dredging up memories he'd been suppressing for years.

To Stabler's great relief, the psychiatrist had agreed that David's mental state was too fragile for him to testify at the TRO hearing. After promising to call Huang again first thing in the morning to set up a time for him to meet with David in person to assess his condition, the detective had hung up, then stood on the other side of the room with his hands in his pockets feeling distinctly uncomfortable as he watched Benson tend to their charge.

Always a good and perceptive partner, Olivia had offered to stay alone with David while Elliott went home to get some sleep. As tempting as the offer had been, he'd shaken his head no, unwilling to risk putting her in an awkward position if anyone ever questioned her being alone with the young man for an entire night. He certainly wouldn't put it past Graves' attorney to attempt a stunt like that.

So they'd agreed to take three hour shifts -- one sleeping in the comfortable armchair across from the sofa, the other staying awake to watch over the traumatized young man. Olivia had convinced him to let her take the first shift and he had slept fitfully til it was time for him to take the second. Now, at 7:30 a.m. with less than three hours sleep under his belt, Stabler desperately needed the caffeine the coffeemaker was tantalizing him with.

Finally the machine disgorged the last of the coffee and the detective eagerly poured himself a cup. Black was a necessity this morning. Adulterating the caffeine with sugar or milk wasn't even an option. He took a sip and carried the cup back to the living room, where he settled himself into one of the chairs at the small dinette table and began dealing out a fresh hand of solitaire.

A movement across the room caught his attention and he stood up instantly. David sat up and rubbed his eyes, glancing around in confusion. His eyes finally settled on Benson, asleep in the armchair, and the look on his face changed to one of consternation. He started to get up off the couch and half turned toward the kitchen, but froze when he saw Stabler standing there.

"Elliott? What are you doing here?" he asked warily.

Stabler tried to relax his body language and paste a calming smile on his face, but found it hard to ease the tension humming through his body, as he fervently wished the sound of their voices would wake Benson.

"You called me last night. You were upset and needed someone to talk to. Olivia and I came over and we talked for a little while. Then you fell asleep. We didn't want to wake you to move you into the bedroom, so Liv grabbed some blankets so you could sleep on the sofa."

David blushed slightly and fidgeted uncomfortably. "Why are you still here?"

Stabler opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again while he considered his response. They hadn't really believed Justin would try to come back again that night, so giving him that easy answer would be a lie. And this boy had been lied to enough in his lifetime. But telling him the real truth -- that after the trauma of the nightmares they'd been afraid he might try to hurt himself if they left him alone -- could put the idea in his head if it wasn't already there.

"You were pretty upset. We didn't want you to wake up alone again. So we took turns sleeping in the chair."

Gallagher's eyes went to Benson, still fast asleep in the chair, then turned back to Stabler. A sheen of tears glistened in them, and Stabler tensed at the thought of another scene like the night before. Instead, David continued to look at him steadily before finally saying, "Thanks for doing that. I really appreciate it."

"No problem," Stabler replied, relaxing slightly.

"Why was I so upset?"

"Justin called. Then you had some bad dreams. And a dream about your mother."

David nodded in resignation. "So all of that really did happen. I thought maybe the whole thing was a bad dream."

"'fraid not," Stabler responded.

"What time do we have to be in court?" David asked hesitantly.

Stabler's expression softened. "It's okay, David. You don't have to go."

"What do you mean? I thought Ms. Novak said she couldn't get the restraining order without my testimony. And how will you be able to find Justin to arrest him if he doesn't have to go to the hearing?"

"Casey's pretty smart, she'll figure something out, and don't worry, we'll find Justin and have him behind bars before you know it. None of that matters right now. We'll figure out some way to do it without making you testify. It's not worth the way it's tearing you apart. Even if I have to spend every free moment I have searching for him, I'll find that little freak and put him in the deepest, darkest cell I can find."

"No," David said firmly. "I have to testify."

"Why?" Stabler asked, completely perplexed by the young man's sudden determination.

David thought carefully about what he wanted to say before answering. "I told you about the dream I had about my mother. In it she said she and my dad are watching over me -- that they're proud of me. That I need to be strong just a little while longer.

"I . . . I never want to disappoint them, Elliott. I never want them to be ashamed of me. If Justin stays free because I was too much of a baby to testify and he goes out and hurts someone else, I . . . I couldn't . . . I just couldn't live with that. And not just because my parents would be ashamed of me -- I'd be ashamed of me too."

"I'll be honest with you, David," Stabler said in a solemn voice. "After what happened last night, I'm afraid you're not going to be able to hold it together. I talked to Dr. Huang last night and he's very concerned about your mental state. This situation is dredging up a lot of memories that you're having trouble dealing with as it is. Justin's lawyer is going to make it worse by hammering you with a lot of very difficult, painful and deliberately shocking questions. He's going to do everything in his power to make it look like you were a fully-consenting participant in that orgy and that when you got caught, you used Justin as a scapegoat and made up this whole story to keep yourself from being expelled."

"I can handle it, Elliott. I swear I can. Ms. Novak went over a lot of the questions with me already. I can do it. There's just one thing."

"What?"

"Are you . . . you and Olivia going to be in the courtroom with me?"

"I'm not sure. If they call us to testify before they call you, we probably can. I can't remember if the rule about not allowing witnesses to hear each other's testimony applies in TRO hearings."

"Is that so nobody changes their story to make it conform to other people's?"

"That's right."

"But you'll be there if they let you."

"We'll be there. And even if we're not there in the courtroom, we'll be waiting right outside in the hall. You won't be alone."

"Okay. I guess I better go shower and change."

"That's a good idea. I'll wake Olivia so she's ready to go when you come out. And I need to call Dr. Huang and tell him to meet us at Casey's office. He's going to want to talk to you before agreeing to allow you to testify. We should have just enough time to drop you there and go home to get into fresh clothes ourselves before we have to be in court."