AN: Hello! Sorry it's taken me so damn long to update this thing butttt I got thoroughly distracted by writing shiny new fics for A Very Bensler Christmas, lol oops! But you should totally check out all the amazing writers' works here on ffnet at username: A Very Bensler Christmas :)
Chapter 11 – 2009
The two were inseparable, partners for life by this point, everything that had happened years ago left there for good. He got her, she got him.
After Olivia saved him from being slashed to death by Stuckey, they started spending more time together. They hung out outside of work, grabbing drinks or dinner here and there. Conversations began to get more personal as they got more comfortable and, recently, he'd venture to say he know almost everything about her – everything that she would allow him to know.
She was so interesting, she always had been, but the relationship they had now allowed him to see her in such a different light. What he once saw as weaknesses - her passion, her empathy, the way she stands for victims regardless of right or wrong – he now sees as her greatest advantages: the reason she's such a damn good cop. It's almost weird, disappointing, that he could have ever disliked or despised working with her. Now, whenever they're not working together, he feels lost, empty… unprepared.
Take for instance the latest case. Olivia is currently off work, sick with the flu, meaning that she's more or less on her death bed because everyone knows she wouldn't take off if not in serious condition or was forced to do so.
Cragen had sent him to check out a call, some big biker dude chained to a tree, with a little surprise left for the ME to find. "Left the berries, chopped the branch clean off." Warren said with the straightest face he had ever seen, the woman always knew how to keep her professionalism in situations like this, he wasn't sure how she did it.
A quick review of the body shows that he was tased before eventually being killed and left there. Warren had a suspicion that the killer was a female based on whatever scientific mumbo-jumbo she rattled off. He was too lost in thought because not two seconds earlier, one of the crime scene technicians found his partner, Olivia Benson's, business card on the dead guy.
And that was where it started, how she was roped into the case, even from her couch, sick as a dog with the flu.
He went to her place to see her after that; filled her in on the case, see if she could provide any information on who the guy was or why he had her card. But he also just wanted to see how she was doing, if she was taking care of herself, because he knew she had a habit of neglecting that.
She had answered the door wrapped in a blanket and looking like she hadn't left the couch in a few days. "You look terrible." He had said, breaking the ice and making her laugh. It was almost still weird, being on good enough terms to show up at her apartment and see her dressed in casual clothes.
"Oh, stop with the sweet talk." She shot back easily because banter was something they did now. "Is this the guy?"
He was surprised to see her this way, the sickness pretty apparently taking a toll on her. He didn't dwell on anything, because all he could think was that he needed to take care of her. He left the case file but said "Tell you what, I'll figure it out, you rest." He led her over to the couch, throwing another blanket on top of her before approaching a little further. "You got anyone taking care of you?"
"I'm fine." She responded with a roll of her eyes, because of course she was… she always was fine.
He took a couple more steps toward her after she nestled into the gray sofa. He reached out his hand casually toward her head and placing the back of his fingers gently on her forehead. "Sure, you are, you're burning up."
She didn't even flinch, because again, this is something they do now. "101, down from 102 last night. I'm on the mend." She said nasally as she shot him a smirk.
He walked over the to the fridge, intent on making her some soup or tea or anything that would be soothing to her. He wasn't particularly surprised that there wasn't anything in there. "You have absolutely no food in this house." He stated casually and saw her get back up from the couch to head back toward him in the kitchen.
"You see, there's this magical thing they have now… It's called delivery."
He smirks but doesn't respond to her sarcasm. Instead, he looks around her place, stumbling upon some travel brochures sitting on her counter. "Planning a getaway?"
"A girl can dream." She says with a smile before taking the pamphlets out of his hand and placing them back on the counter with a quick "Stop snooping."
She tried to talk more about the case at the point, because that was supposedly why he was there in the first place. But he didn't want to talk any more about it. He could handle this on his own and she could get better so she could come back sooner.
"Let's get you to bed." He grabs her blanket wrapped shoulders and leads her to the couch once again. This time she stays, and he leaves with a call over his shoulder. "Get something delivered or you're going to have to deal with my cooking next time."
Munch and Fin assist Elliot with the case because it turns that they may have more problems with it than originally expected. The victim turned out to be a member of an infamous biker gang known as the 'The Death Knights', which was discovered because they willingly put a video on the internet of an unconscious woman on a pool table being passed around to members of the gang. Smart.
When Elliot went to question the girl in the video, he finds that she was a 'consenting participant' in the happenings on the video, so she claimed. But it turns out that she was stealing birth certificates and decides to help so she he doesn't turn her in.
In another turn of events, the victim's motorcycle was found, having been involved in a called in hit and run incident by a black mustang, the caller even gave a partial license plate. A search for said partial plate and sports car turns up, yet again, his half out of it partner, Olivia Benson.
His heart sinks all at once when her name appears on the screen. But his mind doesn't even question it, he knows deep down that this is a setup; someone is setting his partner up. And now he has to figure out who is fucking with her and do it quickly because the evidence was stacking up too fast against her.
Captain Cragen goes to check in on Olivia but also has to ask her about the car. Elliot had refused to go because, no matter what happens, he knows she didn't do it.
Naturally, they find that her Mustang has a scratch on it that matches the description of how it would have hit the bike, still consistent with Elliot's setup theory.
She starts to panic when she sees the scratch. Even though she knows she hadn't taken the car out in months, she knows what this looks like. "Captain I didn't do this." She looks dead in the man eyes, heart racing and thoughts racing.
"I know." He says with a decent amount of conviction. "Go home, get over the flu, it's best if you take a couple days off." He says and she knows he's trying to protect her but she's not one to just sit idly by.
She goes into the office a couple hours later and tries to ignore all the looks she receives on the way. She barrels into the squad room with as much authority as she can muster.
"Someone is framing me." She says in response to all the questioning looks she receives as she tries to sit down at her desk.
Fin comes in first. "No one believes you did this."
And she knows he means it, but she can't get past her upfront anger enough to be convinced. "Really? You should have seen the looks I got coming in downstairs."
"They're just paranoid. It's not about this case, it's about how… contagious you are." Munch tries next, forever making a joke at the wrong time.
She rolls her eyes at his lame joke, something he's used to from her by now anyway. Right as she's about to sit back down at her desk, her partner comes back in the room, talking about a new lead they got, how he was going to head that way to check it out.
"Mind if I tag along?" She says, looking him in the eye and hoping he sees the need there… the need to help, the need to get out of her head, the need to do literally anything but sit on the couch.
"That's probably not a good idea." He replies sheepishly, knowing he needs to keep her away from the case, which he also knows must be hurting her. "Procedure."
"And I'm the prime suspect." The irritation rises quickly in her voice and she scrunches up her face. She gather's her stuff back up quickly, determined.
"Where are you going?" Elliot responds, noticing the shift in her.
"To clear my name." She says, matter-of-factly before turning on her heel and walking out of the squad room, not leaving time for any more questions.
She had gone to see Dr. Warner, to get a DNA swab, thinking that would have cleared her name in an instant. But, to her utter confusion, she gets a visit from Ed Tucker instead.
She was looking over old cases, trying to figure out how the victim was tied to anything involving her. She guesses she must have fallen asleep because she woke with a start to Ed Tucker staring at her with that stupid fucking look on his face.
She stands to talk to him, tell him where she was but he holds a hand up to stop her. "You need to know before you say anything that the victim's murderer has been found…"
His lips are pursed in that way that means he's only here for business. "Who?" She responds, having felt a moment of relief for a second before he replies a simple:
"... You."
Shocked is an understatement to her but, before she can grasp fully what's happening, Tucker has her by the arm and is escorting her through the station.
There's so much going on that she only catches pieces of it. Cragen's all but yelling at Tucker "Ever heard of professional courtesy? You could have picked up a phone, arranged a surrender, but that wouldn't suite you people, would it?" Fin's already on the phone, calling out "Don't say anything to the rat squad, liv. I'm calling the DA for a lawyer."
This is wrong, she knows it's wrong, knows she didn't do anything. She turns to Tucker, convinces him to take her into interrogation, against everyone else's advice in the room. She's not going down for something she didn't do.
It's not until a half hour in that she realized her mistake. He was asking her a bunch of question, ones that hardly seemed relevant to her before she finally just asked him what they have on her, only for him to say: "Your DNA was a positive match to the blood found on the knife."
Elliot was frantic when he got back to the station and heard that Ed Fucking Tucker was holding Liv for questioning. He tried his hardest to get in there, to talk to her, to tell her what he had found so far, but Tucker -unsurprisingly- wouldn't let him.
"You know, when there's one dirty cop, their partner is usually in on it too. The only reason you're not in the hot seat is because I don't have anything on you… yet." He had said with a smugness in his eye that made Elliot want to bash his head into the window over and over.
But he couldn't do that, he had to stay in the clear… so he could clear Olivia too.
When Tucker finally took her to holding, he knew he had to do something. She wasn't going to stay there, not over his dead body. The bond at the hearing had been set at $250,000, which made his whole-body clench. This was serious, the allegations and the case, but Liv didn't deserve this, Liv didn't do this.
"Elliot what did you do?" she said with an irritated tone but deep down he knows she was grateful.
"What was I gonna do, let you get shived in Rikers? No."
"There are worse fates, does Kathy know you mortgaged the house for me?
He thought for a moment on it, wondering how much he should tell her. Of course, he didn't tell Kathy, Kathy would have been out of her mind pissed off, especially because it was Olivia, especially because she knows he wouldn't have bailed anyone else out. "No, it's not a risk, you're innocent."
"You better hope I don't skip bail and run off to Bolivia." She said with a small smile that made the regret of not telling his wife all but disappear.
"Well, I did see those brochures on your counter."
Olivia lays low following her release from jail, but mostly because she had to. They have her holed up in her apartment with a security detail on the street and though she doesn't find it necessarily helpful, she finds it kind of comforting. Someone is framing her, but she still hadn't figured out why.
So, she spends the next few days at home, trying to get whatever she can out of Elliot and the team. She can see how much he's worried over the whole thing and she finds it kind of endearing. But she saved his life with Stuckey, now he's determined to save hers.
A couple boring hours later and after she's forced herself to read a magazine, she gets another knock at the door. With a roll of her eyes, she stands up and heads toward it, annoyed at the officer that has probably come to pee again, the guy has the bladder size of a bead.
The phone rings at the exact same time and she figures it best to answer that first, worried that she would miss a crucial update from her partner, but no sooner than she reaches for the phone, a tall man come breaking through her door.
She runs to the bedroom, the furthest room from the front door and tries to shut the door behind her but he's stronger than she is. He's made it through, invading her personal sanctuary. He's crazed, she can see it in his eyes and part of her wonders how she's going to make it out of this.
She recognizes this guy, but only partially. She tries to piece his MO together as she holds up her hands, defensive and hopefully calming.
"Why did you set me up!" He screams at her, waving a taser in front of her to make a point. She's confused about what he means but her face must have given that away because he continues. "Why did you have Clyde terrorize me in prison?" Her face remains contorted in confusion, her eyes mere slits as she tries to calm her nerves. "You know what I'm talking about!"
She comes to the realization suddenly, the look on his face an obvious pain that she recognizes from victims well. "Oh my god, he raped you." Her voice is calm, instantly empathetic.
The man doesn't have it. He's trying to act tough, but she can see the hurt in his eyes, showing through the anger. "He brutalized me; told everyone I was a punk… he sodomized me endlessly."
"Why do you think I…"
She can't even get the words out before he cuts her off "A pretty boy like you is gonna be real popular in prison. Maybe when you're raped, you'll understand what you put those women through."
She recognizes her own words as she receives more and more memories from the case. The man in front of her was brought in for a series of date rapes and then showed no remorse for it when she interrogated him. She had been pissed by the guy so much that she had said a lot of borderline mean things to him before getting pulled from the interrogation.
"I never should have said that, even to scare you I should have never said that. But I swear to god I did not set you up in prison to be raped. I'm so sorry." She puts as much conviction into the words as she can.
"Oh, you're sorry?" He looks at her incredulously. "Well, I'm not sorry I set you up for Clyde's murder. DNA evidence still trumps some hearsay confession," The smile on his face reminds her of that time in interrogation when she had questioned him about the women. It's wicked, sociopathic even.
"Where did you get my blood?"
"That one I'm taking to the grave." He says as his smile grow wider. In the next moment, he's putting the taser in his pocket and replacing it with a small handgun.
She flinches and takes a step back unconsciously as she sees the gun appear but isn't afforded a moment to be nervous for herself before he's pointing the gun at his own head.
She knows what he's doing by turning the tables. He wants her to know how miserable she's made him and how that ultimately led to taking his own life. It's psychologic warfare at its core and there's a part of her that knows it would work, that it would indeed haunt her.
Regardless, she knows she needs to stop him, knows he can't do this, for his life and the sake of her mental health. She springs forward in a flash, aimed straight for the gun that he could have easily fired already. But she manages to knock him off balance and get him to the ground, the gun bouncing just out of reach of both their hands as he loses his grip on it.
There's a struggle for a minute and a thought that he might actually be able to overpower her, but she fights on away, struggling to get the upper hand.
He's going for the gun, too focused on it to realize that he left the taser in his pocket. She's able to find it without distracting him from the task he was on long enough to bring the electric device to the man's skin and push the button. He stops trying instantly before ultimately passing out from the current forced through him.
She scootches back with a breath of relief as she looks over the unconscious man. Not two seconds later, she hears Elliot's voice coming through the front door before finally appearing at her bedroom door frame. His gun is drawn, and he's got a mild look of panic, but he softens when he sees the man face down on the carpet.
"You ok?"
Elliot looks around quickly, trying to take in as much of the scene he can, trying to get some sort of story before finally looking down at his partner on her bedroom floor. Her breathing is still elevated, and her face still flushed from whatever just happened in there but, from what he can see, she's not hurt. She does, however, look thoroughly badass, though he won't say that.
"You ok?" He says as he finally lowers his own weapon and walks toward her.
"Yeah, think I'm finally getting over this flu." She chuckles back.
He walks over to where she's sitting and extends a hand, a motion to allow him to help her up. "Good, you can meet the guy that helped him set you up."
She takes his hand, and he pulls her up in one quick motion. She's on her feet in seconds with a huff because she's moved too fast. He reaches out his hands to stabilize her for a second before asking again. "You ok?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Getting over it, but maybe not completely over it." She says with a small smile as her body stops swaying.
"Good thing you still have a couple days left of your Cragen-warranted sick leave."
She replies by watching the backup officers haul Brady away, "Yeah, I could definitely use it after this."
His eyes glace at the patrolman cuffing the man before turning back to Liv, a small smile on my face. "Near death experience finally showing you that you should appreciate your down time, maybe take care of yourself now?"
"Nah, just gonna need some time to go shopping for a new door frame and fancy lamp." She says with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. He loves when she's sassy, though he wouldn't tell her that either.
"Yeah, I would honestly redecorate this whole room if I were you." He says playfully as he looks around the place in mock disgust. He'd been to her apartment many times before but never the bedroom, so he takes the time to survey it in detail, well as long as he can before she's lightly hitting him in the chest from his comment.
"Let's just go to the station, I'm sure they're gonna need my statement." She gives a smile as she starts to walk to the door.
"I knew you couldn't stay away." He says with a chuckle before trailing behind her out of her apartment. "After you, partner."
