"If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it's yours to keep. If not, it was never meant to be."
It was the quote recited by Elliot Stabler every time he felt that emptiness inside of him, every time he thought about what his life would have been like if he made different choices. Elliot left New York City just days after his eighteenth birthday. His destiny was in the clutches of the United States Marine Corp. It was the only certainty in his life after everything had been ripped away.
Through his entire four-year stay, he learned a few things about himself. Some of those things he would rather not openly admit to an audience, but to himself, it didn't matter, because the more he denied it, the more it made him feel guilty, and the longer he felt guilty, the dimly lit fire in his heart scorched him until there was nothing left but ashes.
For one, no woman would ever compare to her. Two, he could never marry a woman he didn't love. Three, he would never become his father, no matter how much he mimicked his behavior unintentionally. He made his promise to God to never hit a woman, he would rather castrate himself with a rusty steak knife than even fathom the thought. Listening to his mother's cries and screams behind closed doors, as a child he wondered what his father did to his mother. He recalls being hit to no end by the service belt his father wore to work every day. Sometimes the gun was still in its holster. You'd think that would scare away any possibility of being part of law enforcement, however to Elliot it was the opposite.
In the short years after joining the force, Elliot's brothers in blue saw how easily he could get angry. Terms like 'loose cannon' and 'one angry S-O-B' were in the mouths of everyone in his department until the name 'hot-head' stuck.
Elliot's time in the Marine Corp served him well. Hand-to-hand combat was his area of expertise, he was a star rookie that could take down any perp of any size. Knowing what he knew made him feel powerful and gave him a sense of purpose. He hadn't felt anything like that in a very long time. He only became the way he is now after he married his now ex-wife, Kathy.
Kathy was a pretty-blonde-thing he met shortly after leaving the Marines. He moved on with his life, married her without much fuss. She promised him children—something he'd always wanted.
Three years into their marriage, Kathy and Elliot were childless. He grew tired of the excuses she made to him. By year four, they stopped trying, only co-existing in a place neither one of them felt comfortable. By year five, Elliot slept in a recliner chair, they were a stone's throw away from divorce. By year six, she was in the wind and he was alone in a modest empty house in Queens. Thank God he signed that prenup.
He knows now that the only thing she ever did was smother the fire in him and extinguish any hope of a future beyond now. Elliot devoted himself to a loveless marriage that he knew he didn't belong in. She made him angry, and as his anger built, he knew better than to take it out on her. It was easier to just let her go. He needed to keep that promise to God.
Through it all, Elliot had to be tough. Never show any signs of weakness. He was a fucking Marine. Mentally, Physically, and Morally trained to stealthily handle whatever was thrown his way. He was a Marine, a damaged Marine, with a heart as gold as the medallion he gave away to his first love, the woman he has fought every day to stay alive for.
No new cases had invaded the precinct, the rookie deputies were agitated, for it had begun to thunder and lightning earlier that Tuesday morning but Elliot was mellow. No perps to slap around, no need to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and no obscene amount of paperwork filling the inbox on his desk. He finished up his growing mountain of DD5's the previous morning at the request of the Captain. He can hear the coffee machine beginning to brew its first pot of what could be a very long day, making a mental note to tell Munch to shut off the warming plate underneath it. It's one thing for the Swill to taste like rich battery acid but another for it to taste like the bottom of a fireplace.
With nothing to do but press keys and sort through spam emails, Elliot's mind strayed. Getting lost in the abyss of his subconscious, he reaches into his pocket and fished out his wallet. After pushing aside the credit cards, miscellaneous bills, and MetroCard, he finds just what he's looking for. It was a worn photograph, a talisman of his happiness.
The picture was of a young teenaged Elliot posed with the love of his life in the bed of his father's truck, he had lifted her onto his lap unexpectedly causing her to erupt in a fit of untamed giggles before the kind samaritan snapped the photo on his disposable camera. Both of their eyes were forever bound in a plentiful shade of youth despite the photo printed in black and white. He recalls how bitter-cold that morning was, how his cheeks stung upon his first steps outside of his house.
The neighborhood was just waking up, dew coated the lawns of his neighbors and he smiled, knowing that on the other side of town she was getting ready, expecting the rumble of a rusty Ford outside the landing of her mother's apartment.
1984
Elliot pulled up to the stoop of her mother's apartment building, he smiled, excited that he was finally able to take her to a place he's been dying to show her.
He leans in to kiss her, "Morning' baby."
She smiles into his kiss, "Mmhmm morning, El." She places a hand on his cheek, savoring him.
He pulls away just far enough to speak, "What did you tell your mom this time?"
"Left her a note on the counter I would be on a class field trip and said I'd be late. She's currently sleeping off the events of last night on the bathroom floor."
"Sorry baby," he stroked her arm knowing the full extent of what the details could be, he looked at her for fresh cuts, bruises, or any sign she was in pain but found nothing.
"I'm okay El really."
"I believe you. You'd tell me right?"
"Yeah. Stop gettin' heavy on me. Where are we going?"
"You'll find out when we get there."
Present
He recalls the drive to the pumpkin patch, and nearly missing the exit when the sky had opened up and a steady stream of rain began to pelt the windshield.
1984
"Relax El, a little rain never hurt anybody," She rubbed the muscles of his neck from her curled-up position on the bench seat.
"What would I do without you?" he mumbled just loud enough for her to hear.
"Who says you ever have to live without me?" She pressed a kiss to his neck, "Whatever you have planned, we're gonna have a good time."
Present
It lasted only several minutes, in that time she nestled closer to him on the bench seat and hummed along to the static song begging to come through on the radio. Though the elements of that October day said otherwise, life was simple back in 1984. Young and hopelessly in love with his girl. That was then, but this is now.
John Munch, a seasoned Special Victims Detective roughly 20 years Elliot's senior, had noticed the distracted detective at his desk, Elliot had been sitting at his desk for what seemed to be hours, his mind called a million miles away, and John had not seen him rise for quite some time. "Hot-Head it's time to go home," John called out across the almost empty bullpen, when Elliot still showed no sign of attention, John crept over to his desk and rested his hand on his shoulder, "Earth to Elliot, you there?"
Elliot took an audible breath, "Still Kickin." He rolled his neck out and sighed again.
"You look like you saw the ghost Elvis and took a left turn at Albuquerque."
Elliot chuckled tiredly, "What time is it?"
Munch squinted at his wrist, "Well according to the illusion of time, it's a little after seven. Dearest father Cragen is sending us home, wanna grab a drink?"
On a normal night, Elliot would scoff as soon as Munch finished his sentence, he would go home to an empty house, a house that was too big for him now, drink himself into oblivion on the couch and watch a random football game. But tonight, Elliot couldn't bring himself to fall into his homebody routine, "Yeah, that actually sounds good," Elliot chuckled, rubbing the petite photo's edge between his thumb and index finger, embarrassed that Munch had caught him looking at her, again. Elliot rose from his seat, switched off his computer monitor, and reached for his coat.
"Missing the ex-wifey?" John inquired, he had not known all the details of Elliot's divorce, just that Kathy wasn't in the picture anymore. Elliot shot a look to John that read it all, he certainly didn't miss her. Divorcing Kathy was painfully easy. He only told Cragen because he had to. Elliot wasn't letting that bitch get his pension if he died in the line of duty. Elliot tucked the photo back into the billfold and retreated his wallet back into his pocket.
"Where are we going this week?" Elliot asked.
"Bar uptown, it's just before the theater district, local Broadway wannabe actors perform."
Elliot's face contorted, "Broadway? Geez, John-"
"Don't rain on my parade Stabler, they sing a whole slew of tunes, and it's not just actors, it's teachers, stockbrokers, Cops for crying out loud. Don't worry my friend, your toxic masculinity will remain intact. Bar variety is adequate-"
Elliot gave in, "I don't have a say in the matter do I?"
"Absolutely not, I thought Fin would be the harder one to convince."
Elliot turned to Fin, who stood by the glass doors, "You agreed to this Fin?"
"I like the theatre Stabler, what can I say!" Fin laughed, collecting his belongings as well.
"Get your tap shoes El, we're going uptown." Munch danced his way over to the elevator, waiting for the rest of his fellow detectives.
"If anyone asks, we don't know him." Fin bumped fists with Elliot, chucking in agreement.
The three men shuffled out of the building and waited for an open cab to take them to 'Flannigans', an old Irish pub rich in pre-prohibition era history. Upon entering the establishment, the smell of old cigars, flowery perfume, and a tinge of Elnett hairspray hit their noses. Elliot hadn't even had a drink yet but he knew that John, Fin, and he would be glued to their seats until the beginning hours of the next morning unless the bar kicked them out first. Whichever actually happened was up to fate.
Elliot perched himself in the last seat against the bar in the corner. He rested his back on the aged shiplap behind him and listened to the subtle strumming of the acoustic guitar. He recognized the tune to be 'Take It To The Limit' by The Eagles. He had a cassette tape somewhere in the attic with that track. He hadn't seen or heard it in years.
The young man was talented without say, the house of patrons appreciated the instrumental segment, as opposed to the power ballads that he assumed were being sung all night long. Conversation erupted between Fin and Munch, Elliot jumped in every once in a while to make it seem like he was listening, he wouldn't admit it, but he was glad that he wasn't alone. One draft beer became two and two eventually turned into three.
"That was T.J Jones, everybody. Next up! We have a Flanny's Favorite, ladies and gentlemen, give it up for the lovely, the beautiful Olivia." The sheer mention of the name turned Elliot's attention forward. Lots of women were named Olivia in this city, and it was a large city.
He didn't see her at first, he could only hear the faint clicking of a pair of heels over the loud applause. A figure dripped head to toe in black emerged from the front row and quickly took place center stage. Olivia grabbed the microphone from the owner and placed a kiss on his cheek, her back still to the audience. As she fixed her microphone wire from the previous guy, the lights faded dark unexpectedly causing a small outburst in panicked conversation.
"Hey Jimmy get those lights goin!", the owner shouted into the microphone, visibly annoyed at the lack of competence from the juvenile stagehand. A quick "Sorry!" arose from the back of the bar before the ambient light returned. When the lights came back up, the content expression that Elliot had on display the whole night turned into shock. He settled his glass on the counter, for otherwise, it would have been nothing but shattered bits on the tavern floor.
She was absolutely breathtaking, her hair glimmered as brown as the color of his morning coffee. Untouched by standard box dyes and harsh chemicals most women had used nowadays. Her eyes were dark and sultry, harmonizing her attire for the evening. A black halter top that cut low in the chest with a pair of leather pants and boots.
Elliot could not pry himself away from the brunette beauty. Not when he had spent so long without her. He studied her, comparing what he remembers versus what he sees, her hips were wider and her cheekbones had become sharper. Elliot came to the conclusion that time touched her in the most beautiful ways.
"For those of you who don't know, I'm kind of a hopeless romantic. Everyone needs someone. This song is for those who lost that someone. It's called 'Time After Time', I hope you enjoy it."
Lying in my bed
I hear the clock tick, and think of you
Caught up in circles
Confusion is nothing new
Flashback, warm nights
Almost left behind
Suitcase of memories
Time after—
"Close your mouth El, you'll catch flies." Munch joked, punching him lightly in the shoulder. He was so hypnotized on her body, the way she composed herself in front of all these people, how beautifully she was taking on the world. How happy she was without him.
"She's happy…" Elliot's voice trailed.
"Stabler that was obscure even for my taste, now unless she's a government secret like the bionic woman or the second shooter in the Kennedy Assassination, I'm not in the mood for verbal observations," Elliot didn't respond to Munch's overture, "Stabler if you never say what's on your mind, you're gonna piss away the prime years of your life. You're gonna have a mid-life crisis, buy a motorcycle, and wonder why you woke up in a Motel 6 parking lot without your pants! You think your twenties last forever and-"
"Shut up John" Elliot growled.
"Thirty hits ya and it's all downhill from…" John finally deduced the object of Elliot's attention, he chuckled, "She's cute El, but I thought you had a thing for blondes."
"Not exactly," Elliot whispered to gain his attention, John turned to him once again. Elliot opened the wallet billfold and took out the photo he's been carrying around since he was a young Marine. He gently places it in the palm of John's hand. John lifts his glasses and squints to help his aging eyes focus. For years John never paid close enough attention to the wallet-sized picture Elliot looked at from time to time, he always assumed it was of him and Kathy.
John set his glasses back on the bridge of his nose, "You know her."
Elliot tucked the picture away again, shifted, and reached for the hint beer he had left in the glass. Downing the remainder in one foul swig, he looks back to John and let out a frustrated sigh.
"Are you going up to talk to her? Say Hi, pleased to make your acquaintance?"
"After all these years? She probably wants nothing to do with me."
"How long has it been?"
"Almost nine years."
"And why would you leave a gorgeous creature like that, Mr. Stabler?"
"I left for the Marine Corp. I was eighteen and a fucking idiot."
"Well idiot, check and see if she's wearing a ring. You may still have a chance to bat slugger." Munch chuckled
Elliot looked closely at her hands, she wasn't wearing a wedding ring, but perched between her breasts on a frail tawny chain was a medallion. Though from a great distance, he knew exactly what was inscribed on its face: a depiction of the eagle, globe, and anchor symbolizing the elements of the United States Marine Corp, the same logo that was permanently tattooed into his forearm. It was his medallion, the medallion he gave her before he left all those years ago. The one that she wore to prove that she was always faithful. He didn't have much then, the necklace was all he had to prove it.
1985
There they stood, up until the very last moment. Hugging. Kissing. Committing to memory the taste of one another. The new recruits filed their way onto the retired school bus and waved goodbye to their loved ones. Bootcamp would destroy the spirits of the young men. Their time together was almost up. His uniform fit him proudly, but nothing could conceal the tears in his eyes.
Elliot pressed his head to hers, "I never wanna let you go."
"You're gonna do great, El I'm sorry," She sobbed
"Don't be sorry, I should have been more careful."
"I should have known better too"
"This is my fate baby. I need you to hold onto this for me." He unclipped the medallion from behind his neck and pulled it to her chest to be refastened.
"El I can't take this-"
"Yes, you can." He kissed her lips softly, "I need you to know. Semper Fidelis. Always faithful. I'm coming back, Liv."
"Semper Fidelis," She repeated, "I love you."
"I love you too, Liv"
Present
Elliot pushed off the stool, "I need to go cool off." He grumbled. For a moment, he believed she saw him. For a moment, he was the only other person in the room besides her. Who was he to get in the way of her happiness? Who was he to crash back into her life? It took everything he had to just walk away. She disappeared from him without a trace but in all fairness, he left her first. How could he justify nine years of silence?
If you're lost, you can look and you will find me
Time after time
A/N: I've been working on this story since last summer and I FINALLY had the balls to post the first chapter. This story is obviously AU. No Stabler kiddos, micro-mentions of Kathy, and of course EO meeting as young as they did. Characters recognized are not mine, please don't sue me Dick Wolf, I barely have enough money for chicken nuggets. The song Olivia sings is "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper. Are you all shaking your heads that Elliot gave Olivia ANOTHER necklace like in A Dream Worth Keeping? Get over it. Follow and Review for more! xoxo.