Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.
The week passed quickly, to Olivia's surprise. She woke up at 7:30 Saturday morning and showered. She had told Elliot she would be at his house by 9:00 with breakfast. She stopped by a bagel shop in Manhattan that she knew was a favorite of Elliot's, and was en route to Queens by 8:15.
She pulled into his complex and drove around to his townhouse. She spotted his SUV and parked next to it, knowing his neighbor who parked there wasn't home. The door was unlocked, so she knocked and let herself in. She walked into the kitchen and put the bag on the counter.
"Hey," Elliot said, coming in.
"Hey," she answered. "I brought breakfast."
He all but pounced on the bag, digging through it. "Alright!" he said. "Sesame seed." He brought the bagel out and set it on a napkin.
"Have I told you lately that I love you?" he teased, giving her a lopsided grin.
She smirked. "Keep digging."
Giving her a surprised look, he looked in the bag again. His smile widened as he pulled out her second surprise.
"Blueberry cream cheese!" he said happily. "Olivia, you're an angel."
"Just keep it away from me," she warned, digging out her own bagel. She hated anything that tasted like blueberries.
He scoffed. "You should talk," he retorted, pointing to her onion bagel. "Don't breathe on me for at least an hour after you eat that, Liv."
They went to the refrigerator to get apple juice.
She got there first and opened the door. He shoved her playfully. She wasn't expecting it and went flying against the counter. He laughed loudly as he brought the juice out.
She waited until he had poured the glasses and picked up his bagel before shoving him back. He choked. She picked up her bagel and laughed back at him. They kept shoving each other as they walked into the den.
"Wow," she said. The room was cluttered with boxes. Some of them were opened and the contents on the floor.
"You ain't seen nothing yet," he said, sitting down Indian-style on the floor. "These are just from the back of my closet. I haven't even started on the attic yet."
She shook her head and sat down next to him.
"I've been dividing things up into a pile to keep and a pile to trash," he said. He dug through the one he had been working on, so she pulled one close to her.
. "You sure do have a lot of junk," she commented, poking through it.
"Hey," he said defensively. "One man's junk…"
She held up a kitchen timer shaped like a coconut and raised an eyebrow. He guffawed.
"Is another one's bad taste," she finished for him. "Trash."
She tossed it over to the trash pile.
"How do you know that's not some priceless piece of family history, Olivia?" he asked. She looked at him doubtfully, and he gave in under her stare, laughing.
"Ok, so that's not," he said. "But would it kill you to ask?"
She grabbed a piggy bank with a crack down the side that said GO GIANTS on it. "How about this?" she asked sarcastically. "Is this a family heirloom?"
He pretended to ponder it. "Actually…" he droned. He laughed at her glare, and she threw it in the trash pile. Elliot pulled another box to him and inspected the contents briefly before declaring it trash and pushing the entire box over to the pile.
Olivia pushed a box over to join his. "Trash," she said.
He looked at her suspiciously before pulling her box over and inspecting it. "Hey!" he said. He pulled out a battered, forest green baseball cap with a gold monogrammed "E" across the front. "My lucky hat!"
He plunked it on his head, and Olivia almost choked on her apple juice.
. "How old is that hat, Elliot?" she asked.
He stopped to think about it. "I think I got it when I was…14," he said. "I wore it under my football helmet every game my freshman year in high school."
"Did it make you score any touchdowns?" she pressed him, trying to make him see reason.
"Well…no."
She held her hand out for the hat.
"Aw, Liv, no! It's got…sentimental value." He put on his most convincing face, hoping to persuade her.
"This is why you have so much junk, Elliot," she said. She snapped her fingers at him. "The hat."
He pouted, handing it to her. She promptly threw it in the trash pile, laughing at his stubborn face. They continued working, a comfortable silence falling.
"Wow."
Elliot looked up to see Olivia with a photo album across her lap. "What?" he asked, scooting over to her.
It was full of pictures of Elliot as a teenager. He looked full of youth and ease. Olivia wasn't surprised to see he was still good-looking as a kid. He was the kind that she and her friends swooned over in high school.
She turned the page and scanned the pictures slowly. There were a few of Elliot with his basic training unit. She suddenly heard his breath catch and he tightened his grip on the book, preventing her from turning the page again.
She looked at him, surprised. His eyes were fixed on the album. She scanned the pages until she found the source.
A picture of Elliot with Kathy was in the lower corner. He was in full Marine uniform, with his arms wrapped around her waist, and was smiling that beautiful smile that made her weak in the knees. He turned away quickly, but she saw the tears in his eyes.
"Elliot," she said, putting the book aside. "Sweetie, it's ok." She covered his hand with her own. "It takes time. You know that." He swiped angrily at his eyes and stood up.
"Let's call it a day," he said abruptly.
A rush of guilt swept Olivia. She hadn't known what the album had in it. "We don't have to," she said. "Come on, we still have the attic left."
He rubbed his eyes. "No, really, Liv," he insisted, reaching a hand down to her. "I'm starting to get cross-eyed."
She stood. "I'm sorry, Elliot," she said.
He looked at her in surprise. "It's not your fault," he said quickly. "It's almost one o'clock. I just feel guilty about taking up your day."
She protested. "You're not. I told you I would help you."
He smiled at her. "You have been. Thank you," he said. "I just really think we should save the rest for another day. This is already going to take a while to get into storage." He had to convince her it wasn't her fault.
"You need me to help you?" He shook his head.
"Nah," he said. "Go home, Liv. You don't need to waste your weekend with your boring partner." She smiled, and relented.
"See you Monday?" she asked, as she opened the door.
"But of course," he answered, grinning. "See you."
She waved and was gone. Elliot sighed and turned around, picking up the photo albums on the floor and putting them back in the boxes
Taking three of the boxes into his arms, he trudged up the stairs to his bedroom. Kicking open the closet door, he deposited them on the floor with a grunt and backed out of the small space. When he tried to shut the door, it wouldn't latch because the boxes blocked the doorway.
He cursed under his breath and flung the door open again. After a brief wrestling match with the stubborn cardboard, he admitted defeat and decided to leave the closet door hanging open.
Backing out, he misjudged the distance and ended up slamming his head on the small shelf above him. Miscellaneous knickknacks came crashing down on him.
"Ow!" he yelled loudly. He glared above him at the sturdy piece of plywood. "Damn you!"
Muttering hotly, he began picking up the things that had fallen. When everything was back in place, he backed out again…carefully.
A small paper fluttered to the ground near the door, and he picked it up.
Mother of God…Elliot felt the room rotating at an alarming rate. He quickly dropped the photograph on the ground and shut his eyes, willing himself to erase what he had just seen.
His stomach somersaulted. Standing up on shaky legs, he turned around and frantically started heading for the bathroom. He didn't make it. The dizziness made him fall, and he ended up puking all over the floor beside his bed.
When he finished, he sat up shakily and collapsed against the side of his bed, breathing hard. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror attached to the bedroom door. His skin was pale and he felt himself shaking.
Closing his eyes, he tried his best to remove the image from his brain. But the damage had already been done. No, God…not now…please not now…Elliot shook his head roughly, praying that the memories would go away.
All that produced was another bout of puking as his body began reacting. He gave in and dropped face-first to the carpet, letting the tears flow free in the privacy of his room.