Trigger Warning: Mention of child abuse and repercussions of William Lewis - please read with caution
Prompt #47: Time Travel
Christmas Ghosts
~oOo~
PART ONE: PROLOGUE
December 2021
OLIVIA BENSON
Standing across from the courthouse, Olivia Benson stared at the large fountain. Squinting in the afternoon light, she reached into her pocket and found a quarter. Furrowing her brows, she pulled it out of her pocket and examined it. Noah had the uncanny ability to hide change in her pocket if they were walking along the sidewalks through the city. It was amazing, she thought, that he didn't just stick them in his pockets, but for some reason, it was always hers. Smiling at the small shiny object her eyes traveled up. Numerous loose change rest submerged in the water, the light hitting them and resulting in glistening little circles along the bottom of the fountain.
Fin was standing next to her, watching silently as she turned the small object between her gloved fingers.
"Noah always puts his spare change in my pockets." She spoke quietly, glancing over at her Sergeant. "It's always a game of how much am I going to find, but you know? I think it's fate that he left this one here."
"You believe in that fate crap, Cap?"
"Fin." She glanced at him, slightly turning her face toward him. "How can I not?"
Fin just shrugged, amused, a knowing smile on his face. "I dunno. I just figured– "
"That I would've given up on things like that by now?" she stated, but Fin knew better than to respond, he just nodded. "I don't know. Maybe I should've given up on things like that. Might have saved me a whole lot of– It's not important." She shook her head glancing back down at the round object in her fingers.
This last year had been… a year. She hadn't been aware that while standing on the Red Steps at Times Square with her son watching the Uniformed Officers setting up the barriers that would bar people from crowding Times Square on New Year's Eve, that the next year would bring a lot of people back into her life. Some would come back quietly, gradually, like a thief in the night; some would come back and change her perception of life and her experiences; some would come back in a billow of smoke and fire and then upend everything she'd been trying to bury.
She felt dizzy. This last year left her feeling dizzy. She was only outside this courthouse because of the billow of smoke and fire individual. The one man she always wondered whether she'd ever see again, or if she'd randomly hear through the grapevine one day that he'd died and– no. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again she glanced down at the quarter and then to the fountain in front of her.
I wish there was a sign on how I'm supposed to move forward from this last year. I wish things seemed clearer.
Placing the quarter on the top of her thumb, she flicked the quarter through the air and watched as it landed with a small plop into the fountain. Closing her eyes one last time, she felt Fin bump into her saying something about how it was time to go.
Nodding, she turned on her heel, lacing her arm through Fin's offered elbow, and walking next to her Sergeant back to the vehicle along the curb so they could make their way back to the precinct. She didn't feel up to waiting around for her former partner, not after the crushing blow he'd just been handed.
~oOo~
December 20, 2021
ELLIOT STABLER
Elliot Stabler couldn't believe that Richard Wheatley had gotten off. That he was found innocent of ordering the hit on Kathy. On his children's mother. His wife of thirty-eight years. He couldn't believe that Olivia's former ADA, that her friend, had come at them so aggressively on the stand. He couldn't believe that he'd had to enlist her help when Eli disappeared after the trial. Watching her interact with the boy next to his mother's grave when they finally found him, had only served to remind Elliot what an absolute asset she had been in his life.
He hated himself for giving her that letter, all these months later. She'd stuck around. Despite being told it was in her head, despite being told that they got in the way of one another, despite being told in writing that they were never real – she stuck around. Maybe it was that last sentence. He'd laughed at her when she'd pointed out his PTSD. Now, knowing what he'd found out during the trial for Richard Wheatley when she had been cross-examined about her history of lying on the stand – he still couldn't understand how that came about. Or why her reputation had been so tarnished. They still hadn't had a real conversation about… anything.
That's why as he stood next to the fountain in Foley Square he couldn't quite shake the feeling that maybe he should invite her over for dinner at his place. He still wasn't sure where they stood.
He wasn't sure she wanted him in her life, to be honest. They'd arrived at a sort of impasse. But she had held his hand while looking for Eli. Told him that they'd take things one step at a time. Just where they were stepping, he wasn't quite sure. It was hard. Erasing boundaries. Erasing lines. As much as it would be easy to just lean in and capture her lips with his own, he was almost positive that she would kick him in the balls. Olivia Benson was frightening when she was cornered, and as much as he deserved her wrath and whatever she wanted to give him, he was frightened that she would excise him from her life with the precision of a skilled surgeon.
Pulling a quarter out of his pocket, he flipped it through the air.
I wish for a sign that there's a way to tell my old partner how much she means to me without her walking away.
He watched as the coin landed with a small plop in the icy water as his Sergeant approached him, her hands in her pocket.
"We gotta go up to One PP, the Commissioner wants to talk to us about the Kosta case." So, he nodded and followed, side-by-side with his boss. Maybe he'll ask the kids if they mind if he invited Olivia for Christmas. Even if it was just a few hours. As a thank you. For everything. It's the least he could do.
~oOo~
December 22nd, 2021
BERNADETTE STABLER
Bernadette Stabler hated when people called her 'Mrs. Stabler'. She'd not been anyone's Missus in years.
Sitting with her photo album on the counter in front of her, she flipped through the pages, glancing down at the photos of her kids through the years. It was a shame she didn't hear from them all more often. No, they'd all gone their separate ways and forgotten that she'd existed. Everyone except Elliot. Her sweet boy.
Well, he wasn't a boy anymore. Yet part of her knew he'd always be her boy. 'That's the sad truth of all mothers everywhere,' she thought to herself, 'our children will always be our babies. They never grow up.'
Her baby was the father of five beautiful children. Presumably. There'd always been a question in the back of her mind over whether or not Elliot actually sired his youngest child. She'd never asked because she knew her boy. She knew how he felt. It wouldn't have made a difference to him or not. Just because a child did or did not share DNA with you didn't make you any more or less their parent. She felt relieved that this little sprinkle of her advice and influence had worn off on her son.
Then again, one small look at Olivia Benson's son, Noah, had her questioning everything. It wasn't just her bipolar disorder that was screaming in the back of her mind. No, it was Elliot's partner's boy's blue eyes. Those blue eyes that she didn't have. Almost as striking as the dark brown eyes that Eli had that neither Elliot nor Kathy possessed.
She wasn't sure what had happened when Elliot had left New York all those years ago. She never asked. All she remembered was that he never spoke of her again once he'd gotten… well, it brought her boy back home to her for a while.
'We're all a little broken sometimes,' she thought to herself as she kneeled next to her bed that night, folding her hands together in her nightly prayer ritual.
"Loving Father, thank you for your graciousness and compassion. Thank you for your abounding love. You have been faithful in watching over me and my family and protecting us. I ask that you continue to be faithful and steadfast watching over myself and my family through the night. You are the God of Peace, may you bring us all comfort and happiness. May you keep those who are close to us safe as well. I pray you guide and protect my boy, as well as his partner and her son. May you guide them and offer them direction. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen."
Pushing herself up, she laughed at her nighttime ritual. She was getting too old for this – eventually, she'd going to have to just sit on the edge of the bed and bow her head to pray, but for now, she hoped that was enough.
~oOo~
December 23rd, 2021; 7:57 pm
OCCB HQ
ELLIOT STABLER
Elliot stood in front of the large arched windows, a cup in his hands, away from the joint party being held by the Organized Crime people, ESU, and Narcotics. OCCB was large enough to allow them all in one space to celebrate. He'd sent a text to Olivia earlier in the afternoon, but she'd not responded. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he checked again, just to make sure that she hadn't responded. The sounds of Christmas music waft through the air along with the sound of chatter.
All of a sudden, someone has pulled a hat over his head and when he turned to see who the culprit was, he was face-to-face with Sloot. "I figured since you didn't have any hair on that head of yours you could use a hat."
"I don't feel very jolly, Sloot." Elliot spun around the ice cube in the bottom of his cup. The younger Detective just looked at him, her hazel eyes wide as she quirked her brow. Sometimes, when Elliot looked at Jet, it was surprising because her facial expressions rivaled those of Olivia's when they had first been made partners. He could read the younger woman easily.
"This have to do with a certain Captain that has an eerie silent communication with you?" Jet asked, sliding onto the desk behind them, legs dangling over the edge. "Not that I want to know anything else about your– personal life, ever again. Hearing Madame Defarge talking about your sex life, not my idea of a fun afternoon, choir boy."
"Okay, that's enough, Jet." Elliot's voice contained a small edge to it as Jet shrugged.
"Listen, maybe trying talking to Captain Benson? I can tell she cares about you… a lot. And I can tell in some weird messed-up way you care about her too. It's just…" she took a deep breath, glancing around the room nervously, "I think you don't think you're worthy of her. You're probably right, but haven't you ever wondered why she's not with anyone? She's absolutely gorgeous and yet, she's single." Jet studied the older Detective for a moment, shaking her head and sliding off of the desk. "You can sleep with Madame Defarge, but you can't even approach one of the most decent, heroic cops in New York that you used to work with. I don't understand you, old man."
Elliot watched, dumbfounded as Jet walked away. Maybe he deserved to spend Christmas alone, locked in his room, rather than out in the living room with his kids and mother. His phone dinged as he pulled it out of his pocket, staring at the notification.
Kathleen:
Dad, have you asked her yet?
Grandma wants to know.
…
—
Me:
Sent a text. No response.
—
Kathleen:
Maybe she's having a party at her precinct.
Invite her to Christmas Dinner? With Noah?
Want me to do it, because I will. It's the least we can do
to thank her for everything this last year.
—
Me:
No, I'll take care of it.
I know, Kathleen.
Stop forcing the issue. If she doesn't want
to show up, we're not going to force it.
Elliot took a deep breath and typed out a quick text to Olivia, asking her to dinner at his place. To bring Noah, before sliding his phone back into his pocket and making his way over to the buffet table to see what he could scrounge up that ESU hadn't completely devoured.
~oOo~
December 23rd, 2021; 8:39 pm
16th Precinct
OLIVIA BENSON
"Hey Cap, you got any plans for Christmas?" Fin asked, holding onto his red cup filled with punch. They were having their annual Christmas Party. It was a tradition that had started years ago and had expanded in recent years. Noah was already crashed out on the couch in her office along with Rollins' girls. They'd wake them up to go home in a bit, but for now, they were enjoying the company of adults for once.
"Just a quiet one with Noah," she answered, smiling at Fin. "We figure we deserved a quiet one after the year we've had."
"No doubt 'bout that, Cap. Phoebe wanted me to find out if you wanted to come over on Christmas day around five for dinner, but I told her I didn't know if you had plans or not." Fin shrugged, leaning back against his desk. Olivia held in her hands a small plate with a few pieces of cheese on it alongside a Meatball on a stick. Though she had been eyeing the rainbow cookies that Carisi had brought in and left in the break room, a whole platter of them, citing something about how his mother, the baking extraordinaire, had made three dozen too many.
She was hoping to snag a couple before all the others ate them all. They'd be especially good to have alongside the ham she had sitting in the fridge at home for Christmas dinner. Nothing fancy, just a plain old spiral cut ham with the green bean casserole and some easy roasted red potatoes. If it were up to Noah, she'd be asking Carisi to ask his mother for a tray of lasagna and be throwing that into the oven.
She also thought of the text she'd received earlier in the afternoon from Elliot. His unit was having their own little party this evening, and he'd asked her if she could maybe make an appearance, that he'd missed seeing her around. She wasn't quite sure how to take that, so she'd elected to just… pretend she hadn't seen the message.
What she really wanted to do, was respond.
"Suit yourself, Cap, but the invitation is open." He dropped his voice slightly as he leaned over. "Besides, you'd be savin' me from dealing with Phoebe's sister."
"This the same sister you were tryin' to set Stabler up with?" she asked, brow raised.
"Listen, that wasn't me. That was all Phoebe." He gave her a knowing look, almost a quiet conspiring with her. "I know better."
"There's nothing to know, Fin." She pushed herself away from the desk, glancing down at her feet. "Nothing to know."
"Boss, can I—"
"No." She shook her head. "I'm having a quiet evening with my son. Thank you for inviting us, Fin." She gave him a tight-lipped smile as she walked toward the break room. She was going to get some of those rainbow cookies if it was the last thing she did.
After she'd secured those little almond flavored delicious cookies, she made her way back into the office where the kids were passed out. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, noting that there was a new message on the screen, from Elliot.
Elliot:
I know you probably have other plans. But, maybe you'd
like to think about coming over for Christmas Dinner? Bernie
wanted me to invite you, and Kathleen has been harassing me
for the past week. I told them you were probably busy and we
hadn't talked, so if you don't wanna come over, I understand.
Just… let me know either way?
"Your mom and Kathleen want me there, but what about you, Elliot Stabler, what about you?" she whispered, exiting out of the message, leaning back in her chair, watching the chests of the kids rise and fall quietly, a headache forming between her brow.
~oOo~
December 24th, 2021 in the evening
Benson Residence
"Mom, can we watch a Muppet Christmas Carol?" Noah sat with his knees on the couch cushion, facing Olivia who was in the kitchen making popcorn for their movie night. It was a tradition on Christmas Eve, they'd watch one film and then he'd go to bed, or else Santa would be late coming. She remembered the first time Noah had seen The Muppet Christmas Carol, he was five years old, cranky because his asthma had been acting up, and she'd just selected it because she loved ridiculous Muppet movies.
"Yeah. Go ahead, put it on." She smiled warmly at her boy, eyes flashing over to the Christmas tree in the corner behind the couch and next to the kitchen bar.
Her eyes flickered over to her phone, sitting on the bar. Picking it up, she grabbed the bowl of popcorn and made her way to sit down next to her son on the couch, pulling the red blanket over the two of them and wrapping her arm around her son's shoulders, the bowl of popcorn between the two of them. As she stared at the television screen, she lay her cheek against the top of her son's head, his curls brushing against her face. A warm, contented smile spread across her cheeks. She watched, laughing at the absurdity of the film, and when Noah's hand slackened in her own, she sighed. She'd have to wake him up to get him to go to bed, but she would wait until the end of the film when he'd be so out of it that he would climb into his bed without complaint.
She thought about ghosts, watching the film. She remembered something that her mother had told her during one of her sober moments when she'd been passionate about Literature. When she was explaining that Charles Dickens had written A Christmas Carol during a period when people had been examining Christmas traditions, carols, and integrating various other traditions into their own. She recalled Serena sitting her down one night, explaining that the Victorians were all about fundamental things. They believed in Christmas Ghost stories because they were all about winter, death, and rebirth.
"The darkest day of the year was generally when the worlds would gap," Serena explained. "When there was a greater access to the living for the dead. It becomes dark quicker, Olivia."
She supposed, thinking about the ghosts of Scrooge's life, that we were all haunted. The Ghosts of Christmas, Olivia decided while watching the Muppets on the screen, were the past, present, and future all swirling around us in the dead of the year. Christmas was the last hoorah. We're all haunted. All the time. By both good and bad ghosts, and watching the last of the movie finish on the screen, Olivia couldn't help but wonder… what would the ghosts have to say to her?
Waking Noah up to get to bed was a lot easier than she thought it would be. He gave her almost no arguments.
Readying the glass of almond milk (Santa had lactose issues), and the sugar cookies (still slightly soft, because Santa didn't want to hurt his teeth), she moved about, getting things situated underneath the tree for her sweet son. He was growing up quickly, and she figured that maybe she had another two or three years of these rituals she'd started after becoming a mother. When she pulled the presents out of their hiding places, she came across one small box she'd forgotten she had picked up a few weeks ago. Before the trial.
Before things came to surface.
Before– she was confused about everything. Warring with herself, warring with her own emotions. With facts, with– well… she hoped that the quarter she tossed would manifest into a sign or something before the New Year. She didn't think she could go much longer with the occasional glance, the occasional awkward silence. The all too persistent 'what are we doing here?' moments.
Glancing outside the window, she looked up toward the sky where soft white flakes had begun falling quietly toward the earth. A white Christmas, fantastic.
Wrapping her cardigan around herself, she took a step back, looking down at the presents scattered around the base of the tree and her eye caught an ornament hanging from one of the branches. Reaching her hand out, she plucked it off the tree, holding it closer to her chest as she made her way to her own bed, dead tired for the first time in a long time. Her phone in one hand, the bulb in the other, she placed them both down on the nightstand, sliding her cardigan off and tossing it over the chair in the corner of the room before she slid underneath the covers, squeezing the pillow closer to her chest.
Eyes falling on the bulb, she reached her hand out, tracing the face of it before pulling her hand back closer to her – sleep finally wrapping around her like a heated blanket.
~oOo~
December 24th, 2021 in the evening
Stabler Residence
ELLIOT STABLER
"So we're skipping Midnight Mass this year?" Kathleen asked, eyes wide as she stared at her father, who had his back to her and Eli, boiling water on the stove.
"I told you this back before Thanksgiving, we didn't get the tickets this year, and they're not allowing the whole congregation. We went this afternoon, we don't need to go tonight. Besides, we didn't go while we were in Italy." Elliot shrugged, dropping the pasta into the boiling water.
"Yeah, but I just figured that–"
"What? Kathleen, it's okay if we miss it. God isn't going to smite us just because we weren't the lucky winners of the lottery this year." Kathleen turned her head to look at her younger brother then back to her father. "Your grandmother took this better than you are."
"Well, Grandma doesn't particularly care either way. She's been mumbling about how ninety percent of the things we do with the church are so buttoned-up that she feels like it's suffocating the spirit out of people and Christmas," Eli mumbled under his breath turning his attention toward the living room where Bernie Stabler is happily situated on the couch, watching "It's A Wonderful Life".
"Grandma can hear you, Eli," Bernie called. "And it does. Religious traditions choke the spirit right outta your body. Have God, but get rid of the strict rules." This wisdom of his mother's was a new one, and it elicited a laugh from Elliot at the stove. Kathleen shrugged and Eli shook his head.
"Well, she's not wrong," Kathleen whispered.
"You heard from your siblings?" Elliot asked, turning around and looking at his two children in front of him. Bright blue eyes and brown eyes stared back at him. Kathleen pulled her phone out and opened the group chat that everyone was part of.
"Did you mute the notifications from our group chat, Dad?" Eli asked, before Kathleen had the opportunity.
Elliot opened his mouth a couple of times, before shaking his head and turning back around without answering. "Dad?" Kathleen asked.
"Listen, it kept going off the other day when I was in a meeting and I kept getting the side-eye from Ayanna, so… yeah, I turned off notifications. Why, what did I miss?" he asked, stirring the Fettucine and laying the wooden spoon over the top of the pot.
"Mo and Carl will be coming around four-thirty, because they're spending the morning with his parents in Westchester. Liz says she's going to be here around three-thirty, but she expects you to allow her to take a nap after she takes a shower because she's working this evening at the Hospital. Richard is working tonight as well, but says he'll be here around four."
Elliot thought about the text he'd sent to his former partner last night. He knew she'd read it, but she hadn't responded. Maybe he was asking too much. Maybe he'd been misreading the whole situation with her. Maybe it'd been stupid to expect her to let him in.
After dinner, he picked up the kitchen, listened to his mother complain how he couldn't make tea (when he actually could, truthfully), and was treated to a cup of tea and tin of butter cookies while sitting at the island watching the time grow later.
"You hear from that partner of yours?" Bernie asked, staring down into her mug. "You did ask her to dinner, right?"
"Mama, I texted her." Elliot turned his mug around in his hand, reaching for another cookie. "No response."
"Did you try calling her to ask her?" Bernie suggested, turning her head toward her boy. "Elliot, you know, Kathy wouldn't want you to be alone."
"No, but she didn't want me near–" Elliot shook his head. "I can't make her do anything she doesn't want to do, Mama."
"I like her," Bernie stated. "I liked her all those years ago when she showed up on Long Beach Island. She's got a lot of spirit in her, that one. Though, she seems sadder than I remember, still a knockout though."
"What are you talking about, Mama?" Elliot suddenly feared that there's some giant conspiracy theory. "When did she show up on Long Beach Island?"
"Katie never told you about it?" Bernie placed her mug down and started chuckling. "I'm amazed she didn't mention it to you. Why do you think Katie agreed to get help when she got in trouble years ago? Agreed to take pills, go to therapy. Do whatever the court asked? It wasn't just a quick change of heart, my boy. No, that partner of yours showed up, in every sense of the word…"
"She… she did what?"
"Olivia. She showed up and convinced me that I could talk to Katie, and make her see reason. Get help. So, I did. She drove me to Rikers we had a conversation with Katie, she got help– and the rest is all history."
"She never told me."
"I asked her not to," Bernie stated, turning back to her tea, which had started to grow tepid. "I like that one," she repeated, placing her hand on her son's shoulder as he just stared at her.
"I need air." Elliot moved from the chair and Bernie turned, shrugging with a small 'hmph' noise while watching him walk out to the back patio, lined with white twinkling lights, in the cool night where the flakes had begun to fall from the sky. Tilting his head back, he stared up, taking in the brightest of the stars that cut through the city lights.
Olivia really had done more than he ever realized for him and his family. She'd done it without asking for anything in return. She was quite an enigma. As his eyes focused on the night sky, he caught the tail end of a shooting star, and taking a deep breath he wished with every last ounce of whishing in his chest that he would have the strength required to talk to her, that she would allow him in, that they could talk.
When he walked back into the apartment, he was slightly frozen but made his way to the bathroom to take a warm shower and as he slid into bed, he opened his nightstand pulling out his bible and cracking it open to 1 Corinthians, Chapter 13. He pulled out the folded photograph he's kept tucked away all these years, tracing his finger over her face. Falling asleep with the photo resting against his chest, over his heart.
~oOo~
PART TWO: BYGONE ERAS
untangle the histories between us
OLIVIA BENSON
Olivia awoke with a start, it was half-past midnight, dropping her head back down onto her pillow she threw her hand over her face. That's when she caught it, the odd glow coming from the corner of her bedroom, the chair where she'd tossed her cardigan. Opening her eyes once more she turned her face in that direction. Almost immediately, she pushed herself up in bed, back against her headboard, hand pulling the sheet up over her chest and resting on her heart.
She hadn't had any alcohol before bed. She felt around on her sheets to make sure she was awake, reaching over, she gripped her cell phone in her hand and turn turned back to the corner. Rubbing her eyes, she counted to five before all of a sudden the voice broke through the silence.
"Privet, Olivia Margaret Benson, is that any way to properly greet me?" the voice traveled through the air, assaulting her ears and almost bringing a whimper from deep within her chest. "I'm disappointed."
"Who are you?" she asked, shaking her head, trying to decide whether or not to call someone. Anyone at this point. But what would she tell them? 'Hi, yes, there's some bright fucking illuminated figure sitting in the chair in the corner of my bedroom, and I think it sounds like my dead mother? It even said 'Hello' in Russian like my mother and I used to do…' They'd have her committed post-haste. They'd think this last year had finally broken the unbreakable Captain Olivia Benson.
"Who am I? Come now, you're asking the wrong question, Olivia." The suspiciously Serena Benson-sounding figure stated.
"Who were you?" She amended. This was going to be creepy as hell. Too creepy. Damn Noah and his need to watch movies about Christmas Ghosts before bed.
"Ah, that's better. I think you know who I am, Olivia."
"You're not real. You can't be real. You fell down a flight of stairs after drinking yourself to oblivion," she whispered, finally opening her eyes and glancing to the side.
"I can assure you, I am real." Serena stood, walking closer to the bed. "I'm as real as you are. Well…" Serena's pale eyes traveled over her daughter's figure, Olivia's eyes had grown as wide as the night Elliot had– no. She wasn't going to think. What if her mother could read her mind? Oh shit. No. Absolutely not. This was bad. This was a bad dream, she would wake up and– "Stop panicking. Wow. You're jumpy." Serena shook her ghostly head once more.
"Shouldn't you have chains or something, I mean…" She raised a brow, trying to press herself further into the headboard. "God knows you…"
"And you're any better? Olivia Benson, you listen to me. I'm only here a short while, I have someone else to visit tonight. And stop believing in those half-assed fairy tales or urban legends. Not all ghosts wear chains."
"Took you long enough to visit me," Olivia whispered, eyes suddenly narrowed as she tried to remind herself that she'd been working on forgiving her mother, she'd been working on believing that even though she and her mother had their differences, she had always tried to look out for her, that part of her had loved that child that was conceived by a monster.
"I don't have to tell you what's going to happen here, do I?" Serena crossed her arms, staring pointedly at her daughter. "You asked to understand something better, and for some reason, there's been a lot of that going on lately. People requesting to understand things better. That's why I'm here. Finally showing myself to you. Because you've been blessed with the possibility of taking a little trip through time… Don't worry, Olivia, you're not going to gain understanding into your own life. I have a feeling the powers that be, have elected to show you what you wish to understand in another way. Use this opportunity to do some soul-searching."
"I don't have a say in this?" Olivia asked, slightly wary.
"Oh, sweetheart; you've already had a say in this. When you tossed that coin into the fountain the other day, and every single time you blow out a single candle on your birthday by yourself. Don't think we can't hear what you wish for." Serena smirked. "Do I have to tell you how this works? Or do you remember what I taught you?"
"Don't keep drinking vodka and try to make it up the subway steps in the middle of winter?" Olivia shot back, earning a noticeable flinch from Serena.
"About Dickens, Olivia."
Olivia sighed. "Past, Present, Future?" she asked, placing the phone back on the nightstand. "But not my own," she verified, Serena nodded.
"Correct. I hope you find what you were looking for, Olivia." Serena turned and headed to the bedroom door, where she just immediately vanished into thin air. Olivia threw back the sheets quickly and moved to the door, opening it and glancing out. Walking through the apartment, she didn't see the figure anywhere so she shook her head and went back to bed. This had been all one bad dream and she hoped when she wook up in the morning, she didn't remember it.
~oOo~
ELLIOT STABLER
Elliot wook with a start when he felt his foot jerk as though someone slapped the bottom of it. When he opened his eyes he almost reached into his drawer for his gun, but then his eyes adjusted and all he could see is a bright light standing at the foot of his bed. His heart immediately began to pound against his chest and he couldn't seem to find air as he sat up, the photograph of Olivia falling to the side.
"You're a far better man than I ever was." The voice stated and Elliot brought his hands up to his eyes, rubbing them with his palms. Exerting a little bit of pressure against the sockets. Shaking his head he moved them and sure enough, he wished he was somewhere else. "That's for damn sure, with a gorgeous thing like that beside you for thirteen years, how the hell did you ever get anything done?"
"What are you doing here?" Elliot found his voice finally, eyes narrowed. "Shouldn't you be in hell or something?"
"Come on now, I wasn't that much of a bastard."
"Yeah… yeah, you were, Dad," Elliot whispered, shaking his head, reaching down and picking up the photo of Olivia, placing it gingerly back into the pages of the open bible between the folded white printer paper he kept in the middle to protect it.
"Well, at least I didn't rat out my brothers in blue. So tell me, how did that work out for you, putting one on a shelf and worshipping the other?"
"I'm not talking to you about this, because it's none of your business and you're dead and I'm probably having a mental breakdown. They're going to lock me up and take away my gun."
"If they haven't done it yet, Elliot, I don't think they're going to do it anytime soon." The ghost of his father stated, sitting on the other side of the bed, turning to face him. "Look, I know you hate me."
Elliot just sat, eyes trained on the ghost. "That's… no. I was disappointed by you. You had every opportunity to be a good father, and you were a bastard."
"You take after your mother anyway." Joe Stabler's ghost shrugged. "Thank God for that. You're a good man, son. A really good man. That's why I'm here."
"I'm not dead, right?" Elliot whispered, trying to imagine what Olivia would think. Would she even care? Would she mourn him, or had she already mourned him ten years ago when he disappeared from her life? How would Eli cope with this? Oh, he couldn't be dead. His son needed his father. He'd just lost his mother.
"No, you're not dead, Elliot." Joe's chest rose, as though he was breathing air, not dead. "You've asked for something lately, and God, being the merciful and forgiving being that He is, has sought to answer not only your requests but your mother's request and… that nice slice of pie that you fawn over and worship in private."
"She prays about me?"
"Her? Pray? Nah, well. Once. But that's not my story. She made a couple of wishes. You're going to go take a look at things, gain that clarity and direction you asked for. Get your head out of your ass." Joe's ghostly hand slapped Elliot's leg, sending chills up his spine and his skin breaking out in small bumps from the chill that seeped into his bones. "You're going on a little trip, m'boy. Past, Present, and Future. Enjoy the ride." Joe stood, walking to the door. "Be a man."
"Fuck off, Joe," Elliot stated, shaking his head and sliding back under the covers.
"Love you too, son." As the apparition disappeared, Elliot stared up at the ceiling feeling himself growing lighter as he drifted off back to sleep, or what he hoped was just another dream.
~oOo~
bygone eras: our past pernicious histories
pernicious is defined as having a harmful effect, especially in a gradual or subtle way
OLIVIA BENSON
Sitting up, she allowed her eyes to adjust to the dark of her room, but as she moved the covers back, she noticed that familiar glow was back. Glancing down at her phone, it lit up with the numbers 1:00 am on the face. Taking a deep breath, she turned her attention to the corner of the room where she was met with a bright yellow light. What she wasn't prepared for was the outline of a child, a small boy. Squinting slightly, she could make out the facial features of the child. Instantly, her heart felt as though it was going to burst.
"Are you ready?" The voice that came from the child-figure wasn't quite what she expected because there was a tone to it that felt oddly familiar to her, more adult than child. Why would this be the one they sent to her first?
"How does this work? My son is– "
"You're still here," the child answered, pointing. When she turned to look, sure enough, her body still lay in bed. A small moment of panic overtook her as she wondered if she was still breathing. "You're alive, you're just… sleeping. In a deep sleep. If he needs you, you'll be back. He's being watched over," the child answered, almost anticipating her inner turmoil. Placing her hand over her heart, she backed up slightly against the door. The child held its hand out to her, and taking a deep breath, she decided that maybe insanity was relative.
As her hands clasped with the child's hands, she suddenly felt warm all over and when she opened her eyes again, they were standing in a driveway, and in front of them was a house in Queens with a generous front yard, coated with snow. She almost jumped out of her skin when the front door slammed shut and a teenager holding onto a large carrot came barreling down the stairs, landing in a pile of snow, running over to the two other children on the lawn next to the older woman.
"Elliot!" the woman yelled, laughing. "I said a baby carrot, not one of the larger ones we're using in the chicken noodle soup!"
Olivia's heart suddenly began beating erratically as she watched, tilting her head to the side her features softened as she looked down next to her. "What're we doing here?" she whispered, hoping no one noticed her.
"They can't see us," the glowing child answered. "You don't have to whisper. There's something here you need to see, something that explains something you want the answer to. I can't tell you what it is, because only you can figure that out."
"Okay." She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself, even though she undecidedly did not feel cold in the slightest, despite standing in the middle of a snowy yard with large flakes coming down from the sky.
It's that moment that a car came around the corner and a younger Bernie Stabler stood erect, cursing under her breath as she looked up at her son. Teenage Elliot glanced up in the direction his mother was staring and the smile faded from his boyish face. Olivia's head swiveled as she too stared in the direction of the noise.
"Maureen, Tommy, get inside, get your things off by the door and go wash up and get your homework done." Elliot, even though he was a teenager, ordered the two siblings to go inside. But, they were too slow because Joe Stabler stepped out of the car he had pulled into the drive at an angle, crashing into a snowbank. He kicked the snow around his feet, cursing loudly as he reached in and pulled the six-pack of beer out of the passenger seat, reaching in for his open bottle and taking a swig, tossing the bottle in the open can as Elliot watched him.
Joe Stabler is drunk, Olivia realized, swallowing as she couldn't look away from the teenage version of Elliot in front of her.
"Sons of bitches." Joe mumbled underneath his breath, taking another bottle out of the carrier and twisting the cap. "Rat bastards always tryin' to fuckin' interfere with brothers. Like they forgot what it was to be a goddamn cop," she heared him mumble under his breath.
'Rat bastards? Must be talking about IAB.' Olivia laughed to herself. She knew that the feelings people had for Internal Affairs was never going to be a fluffy one, that through the years, everyone has cursed every unfortunate soul who had the audacity to work in that department… including a man she had once dated and fallen for… for a spell. She also knew they were different, the officers that worked for that department. Now, when she had to face any of them, she had to question herself and 'Who the hell hurt you, Officer in IAB?'
Joe ignored Elliot and Bernie, as he climbed up the steps, stumbling and almost dropping his open bottle of beer. Cursing out loud, he yanked the door open and then let it slam with a resounding crack. Elliot and Bernie both flinched as she suddenly moved toward the house, hoping to interfere before the other kids inside got under his feet. She hoped she wasn't too late. Olivia watched as Elliot's brows were furrowed and he picked up the buttons Bernie had dropped, placing them on the face of the snowman before following his mother's lead and slipping into the house.
Olivia found herself standing in the hallway, next to the stairs, staring into the living room, without any recollection of how she got there. She heared it, the sounds of rising voices, and the cop in her wanted to investigate, so she moved through the house, feeling like an intruder even though she knew this was something that happened in the past, and wasn't happening currently, but she'd seen enough DV calls that this wasn't completely unfamiliar to her. Stepping into the kitchen at the end of the hall she came face to face with the all-to-familiar scene of Joe standing with a beer in one hand and his other hand raised, a bright red mark on young Bernie's cheek.
Bastard.
Before she could register what was going on, Elliot came flying by her, and even though she knew he wouldn't crash into her, she moved out of the way quickly. She'd seen it in his eyes. 'Don't do it, El. Don't. He's going to annihilate you,' she couldn't help but think.
She saw it happen in slow motion, and she screamed. Elliot threw all his weight behind his punch and his father fell backward into the table, his beer bottle flying through the air and slamming into the fireplace of the dining area, shattering and flying through the air. Joe righted himself quicker than Elliot could comprehend, because he had turned around to tend to his mother, ice cubes in the kitchen towel in his hand as he was yanked backward and Bernie was yelling, the other two kids were standing on the stairs, peeking around into the kitchen. 'No kid should see this.' It was total mayhem.
But Elliot was a protector. He'd always been a protector.
Part of her knew what was going to happen before it did because she'd seen his back, changing in the locker room at the 1-6. She'd seen the faint white scars as he sat in a hospital bed, after various work-related incidences. She always wondered, but she always just assumed that it was from his stint in the Marines.
"You little bastard!" She glanced around and saw the Christmas tree, saw the calendar on the wall, it was two days before Christmas, 1982. She was right, he was about sixteen. Was sixteen. She couldn't watch this; she turned around as she heared Elliot's screams turn to silence as Bernie yelled for Joe to stop, heard the slap of the leather upon skin.
When she turned around, she saw Joe walking away from the table, a bloody belt in one hand, beer in the other. Her breath caught in her throat because she watched as Elliot grabbed the kitchen towel, getting additional ice cubes, even though his back was bleeding, and pressed it against Bernie's cheek. "It's okay Mama, let's get you upstairs," he whispered as they pass by her.
Tears stung her eyes as she watched Elliot, bloodied and battled, guide his mother up the stairs, whispering that he was okay. That she was okay. That they'll be alright. Her heart froze in her throat.
"Damnit, Elliot," she whispered, eyes moist as she turned away. The bright child is standing next to her again, looking sadly at her. "What was the point of that?" she asked, wiping her face on her sleeve. The bright child cocked its head at her.
"He's always looking out for everyone else, even when he's broken and bleeding. But, who looks out for him?" the bright child asked. She felt like the rug had been pulled out from underneath her as she swallowed. She looked out for him, for thirteen years, she had his back. She backed his every play. She defended him. She protected him. Both from himself and from her. Who watched his back during the last decade? she wondered.
She shook her head, backing against the wall. "What's the point of it?"
"Our bad times shape us just as much as our good times," the bright child stated. Olivia looked up the stairs. "What else do you think?"
Olivia opened her mouth for a moment, before closing it again – shaking her head. "I think he would rather focus on someone else's pain than facing his own," she stated, bottom lip quivering as she thought of sixteen-year-old Elliot, with his back ripped apart by the leather belt but still more worried about the red mark and the prospective blooming bruise on his mother's face.
~oOo~
ELLIOT STABLER
The minute he felt a presence, his senses began tingling. Years of being a cop had taught him to be hyper-vigilant. His PTSD heightened it, to an extent. When he glanced at the foot of his bed, he let out a small groan. There was a bright white light and he could make out the outline of a female child. Taking a deep breath, he threw his feet out of bed, heading toward the child-figure. As he got closer, he noticed the features of it. No.
There was no way. He thought. But the little bright girl, that looked oddly like a young Olivia, if he didn't know any better, reached out and gripped his hand fiercely. He felt the warmth flow through his veins and couldn't help but wonder what it was that the elusive woman he knew he loved but couldn't figure out how to share it had to show him from her past. What she could possibly have for her present. And he hoped deep within his chest that the future contained something for the both of them together.
Elliot Stabler was a man of his word, and when he said for better or worse to her next to their lockers in the leaky squad room, he meant it.
By God, he meant it.
Before he could wrap his mind around anything else, he found himself standing in a bedroom, in the corner of it, next to the closet. Sure enough, as he stared in front of him, he saw her. She was everything he ever imagined, except for the fact that her hair was yanked back into a ponytail but the back part of it was absolute chaos with curls. He figured this was before she figured out how to use hair products to tame the frizz, before she trimmed it off to the shortened locks he met her with. But she was still beautiful. He looked at the wall. The calendar had the days marked off with a purple line through them, and he could make out the date on it.
He had to crack up, because of course, Olivia would have had a Journey themed calendar. It took only a moment to decide that Olivia's choice of a date-tracker drove Serena absolutely bonkers.
That's when he heard her, banging on the door. He jumped slightly as he was studying Olivia who appeared to be crying, a black sweatshirt tucked under her chin, legs pulled up next to her body, her oversized gray sweatpants were hanging half-off of her ass, but luckily the shirt she was wearing covered the majority of whatever had been exposed. The door knob rattled again, what the hell is going on here?
"Olivia Benson, you open the door right this minute." Serena wasn't quite yelling yet, but her voice was definitely raised, authoritative, and Elliot was trying to figure out whether or not she sounded like she was slurring her words.
"Go away!" Olivia yelled from her bed, tucking the sweatshirt more firmly against her chest. She looks so small, laying on the twin-sized bed with the flannel sheets. The mascara she must have been wearing was trailing down her cheeks and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what the hell Olivia was crying about. "Leave me alone," she whispered, into the darkness of the room.
"I'm trying to protect you, Olivia," Serena said through the door. Elliot was confused as all hell. For the life of him, he couldn't recall Olivia ever talking about her mother while she was sober, or admitting that she was looking out for her best interest. "I want to explain it to you, damnit," Serena pleaded. Olivia was sitting up in bed, and Elliot smiled, because even though she looked like an absolute wreck, she was still beautiful as a teenager.
He watched as her breaths caused her chest to rise and fall, not for the first time, he wished he could've met her at this age, that they could've known one another in this life, he would've taken her away from this room, he would've protected her. He would've shown her what love was – because he knew that's all she had really wanted, to be loved.
"You don't need to explain anything to me, mother," Olivia called through the door, pressing her back against the wall, knees pulled up to her chest. "You said it yourself, if you can't have me, no one can have me. I get it. I'm the worst thing that ever happened to you, but you don't want to get rid of me." She sniffled. "God forbid that someone actually cares enough to ask me to marry them and takes me off your hands."
"He's a helluva lot older than you, Olivia. He's just using you. He's using you for what's between your legs."
Ouch, Elliot thought, that was… a little harsh. Even for Serena Benson. Though, he'd got to admit, he wondered where Olivia got her sharp comebacks and witty banter from… now he knew.
"You know nothing," Olivia hissed. "Merry damn Christmas to you, Olivia," she whispered.
"I know he has a girlfriend his own damn age, Olivia. He's a student in the Master program, he's almost thirty. You're sixteen going on seventeen!" Serena's voice cut through the door and Elliot was ping-ponging his head back and forth between the womens' voices. "That's why I had you write the damn letter—"
Letter? Oh shit. He realized. Letters were not good. Decidedly not good. If he ever was going to fix whatever it was they did or didn't have, he would promise her no more letters. What the hell was he thinking? You didn't know about this, Elliot.
"Why can't you just let me be happy?" Olivia asked. "Why can't you love me?"
"I do, Olivia, I love you so much that–"
"Why'd you tell Susan Branson that you can't love me because I was made by a monster?"
Jesus, Elliot thought. These two women knew what vein to cut into, that was for sure.
"Why were you eavesdropping, Olivia? You know what your sperm donor did," Serena called, a warning tone in her voice. "There's no reason why Burton should've been interested in you, Olivia, you're too young. He's a predator just like your father," Serena hissed through the door.
"Why don't you just leave me the fuck alone and go drown your sorrows in the bottle of Stoli you hid underneath the sink?" Olivia cursed. "Sober my ass," she whispered the last part. Serena's palm hit the door.
"Ungrateful little slut," she whispered, her head pressed against the door. Elliot watched Olivia as she curled up onto her side, reaching over to press the play button on the tape player next to the bed. Elliot smiled as a song by Fleetwood Mac filled the room and he heard Serena yell to 'turn that shit down' through the door.
Olivia reached over, opening the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a polaroid photo of herself with an older man with startling blue eyes. Part of him felt sick to his stomach, because as Serena had said, this man was older than Olivia. Quite a few years older than Olivia, and he recalled a conversation that they had the second year of their partnership. Talking about relationships between two people, and for the first time, he realized it. She thought this sonofabitch was her soulmate? He was– so much older.
Oh, Olivia. "Damnit, Olivia," he cursed. The bright child glanced up at him, tilting its head to the side as he felt his heart in his throat. "You were a victim. Collateral damage. Sonofabi—"
"Don't let her hear you say that," the bright child stated, looking back at the teenager on the bed. She was every bit a child. He tried to imagine Olivia's heartbreak here, but he couldn't seem to find it inside of himself to really relate to it. It was no wonder that she got along so well with Kathleen. Kathleen, who had been quite promiscuous before she had gotten medicated and therapy for her bipolar disorder. He wondered how many people this teenager had slept with already. Or if this was the beginning of the downward spiral of risky behavior he became aware of during their partnership.
Her tendency to go to bars and pick up people. A sex crimes detective, who had a history of one-night stands. She called him a jealous sonofabitch once, when he showed up and yanked her out of the bar, after discovering this terrible habit, as though she didn't find herself worthy of a real relationship or a steady relationship, just saw herself as good for one thing – a quick romp. It had pissed him off. She'd called him jealous. She'd called him overprotective. And maybe he was. "I was just looking out for you, Liv," he whispered into the room, shaking his head. "I was always looking out for you."
The bright child nodded quietly.
"What's the point of showing me this?"
"The girl that thinks no one cares, always pushes away the ones that do until she's left with… that. You've got to figure out why you're shown this specific scene."
Then he heard her, humming softly to herself and he moved closer to her. She stopped humming and opened her eyes, staring straight ahead, as though she could see him, but she was looking right through him. She sat up abruptly, throwing her legs over the edge of the bed and he was stunned at how thin she was. "No man stays, Olivia. They all walk away," she recited, wiping her tears, looking down at the photo of her and this Burton guy. What kind of a name is that, anyway? "You might as well just walk away before you can get hurt, Olivia. You're better off dead."
"No, honey," he whispered, shaking his head. "Don't tell yourself these things, they're not true. There's someone out there that's going to love you. That's not going to walk away. You just have to wait. You're going to mean something to so many people, just wait. You have to wait. Someone that loves you isn't going to walk away."
"But you did, didn't you?" The bright child stated and that's when he slammed his eyes shut.
"I'm done here. Get me out of here."
"The truth hurts, doesn't it, Elliot?" the bright child asked, and he couldn't help but feel sick to his stomach.
~oOo~
bygone eras: sweet nostalgia
nostalgia is defined as a sentimental longing or a wistful affection for the past, typically a period or place with happy personal associations; regardless to how the night ultimately ends.
ELLIOT STABLER
The bright child morphed, right before his eyes as they landed outside of the New York Country Club. He didn't need to look at a calendar, he knew what night this was. He recalled it vividly. Almost fondly, if he were going to be honest. But this wasn't his history. He'd been explained that this was her history. These were parts of her life that he needed clarification on. The parts that he needed to guide him to make a decision – based on her life. This was the most messed up journey through time…
But as he was thinking of this, suddenly his breath caught. There she was. There he was stepping out of the SUV that had been their ride thirty minutes outside of the city. He remembered the ride, how they'd talked about the kids, how she'd talked about how ridiculous she thought receiving this award was. She complained, because she was the first woman to receive this award, due to her test scores. The only good thing, she argued that night, was that a donation was made to the charity of her choice.
He extended his arm for her, and she laced hers through. She looks radiant, wearing a beautifully simple black dress, and a pair of heels that made her muscular legs look even sexier. If he could feel the general feeling of the memory, or whatever this was, he would think that she felt almost… beautiful that night. He turned to look at the bright teenage Olivia-esque ghost, spectre, whatever she was… and then felt himself drawn to look at this version of his old partner.
"Thank you, again, El," she whispered, as their faces are mere inches away from one another. "I know you hate hanging out with anyone that's higher up."
"Liv, I'd hang out with you anytime."
"That's crap and we both know it." She smiled, tugging him closer to herself by the elbow. "Cap had to beg you to go with me."
"It didn't take much convincing, honestly, when he mentioned something about an open bar," Elliot whispered, his lips centimeters from her ear. They were always this close, and it caused a warm flush to spread over her chest. "Coming, Detective Benson?"
Her smile was radiant, and Elliot couldn't believe what an idiot he'd been. They were so young, it felt like. This was before… everything. Before Gitano, before she disappeared to Oregon, before she came back, before Calvin, before… he left. This was them, at the height of their partnership. This was the first time Kathy and he had separated. Before the divorce, but when things had seemed… less pressured to maintain those ridiculous lines in the sand. He felt his eyes water a little at the thoughts he was having. She was radiant, her smile was ear to ear, and the way her eyes would sparkle in the light of the dining hall was mesmerizing.
At one point, he watched from an empty seat, taking note of the way he and his partner stared at one another, especially when he asked her to dance midway through the festivities. There were quite a few people on the floor, but as his hand rested protectively against her back, she had placed her head on his shoulder, and when they spun, he caught it.
She was grinning, with her eyes closed, as their hands held one another and his other hand rested on her back, pulling her body closer to his. At the end of a song, when she pulled back he felt himself go nervous.
They were– gorgeous. There was no other way to explain it. He watched, curious, as an outsider observing the two of them, Benson & Stabler, Elliot & Olivia, and the only thing he could admit was that it was no wonder why everyone thought they were an item. "Look at us," he whispered, shaking his head. "This is… amazing."
As the banquet came to an end, he watched as they walked outside, into the crisp December night, and he placed his jacket around her shoulders, her hand landing softly on top of his own before wrapping around it herself. As he went inside for a minute, Elliot watched this 2006 version of Olivia turn around and watch him, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.
"Oh, El," she whispered out loud. "Get it together, Benson," she mumbled to herself. "This is your partner. He's still technically married," she whispered. Elliot listened quietly, while watching himself inside at the bar, getting her another glass of wine, ordering a warm cider for himself. "But… tonight has been different," she whispered. "We'll see where this goes when we get back to Manhattan," she decided, smiling and nodding as he walked back out to her.
"I hope you don't mind, I took the liberty of getting you a glass of wine." He handed the glass to her and she took it, smiling warmly at her partner.
"I don't mind at all, El." She leaned back against his warm, solid body. He remembered the feel of her against him. How he was hoping that it could have gone… elsewhere that night. But the image shifted almost abruptly and he realized that he was standing outside of her apartment now, watching himself answer his phone, apologizing to Olivia.
"Liv, I–"
"El, it's fine." Olivia spoke quietly, taking his leather jacket off of her shoulders, handing it over to him as she fished in her small clutch for her keys. "You have to go. I understand, get the twins their Nyquil, and take it out to them. They need it, and tell them to feel better." She smiled sadly, allowing her hand to rest against his arm a little longer than necessary.
He followed her inside her building, smiling as he watched her slip off her heels and hold them in her hands as she made her way up the steps. The bright Olivia walked next to him, quiet as he watched 2006 Olivia unlock her door and step inside her apartment. He followed her, curious, as she tossed her heels down next to the table by her front door.
She began talking out loud. "You'll never be happy, Olivia. Chasing the things and people you can't have." She shook her head, taking a long swig of the beer. Her shoulders fell as she shook her head, bringing the bottle back up to her lips. "Don't be a fucking idiot, Olivia. He'd never choose you. Stop being so damn pathetic." She reached around her back, and unzipped her dress. Elliot watched her walk away and immediately blushed.
"She's so damn hard on herself," he whispered to bright teenage Olivia next to him. The figure just crossed its arms and nodded. "She thinks she's never worthy of love… and I don't know how to fix it."
"Maybe be there? Just… show up?" the figure suggested. "These things aren't being shown to you to throw you off, you know. They're being shown to you because you asked, Elliot."
"I'm fully aware of that, so thanks."
"Pay close attention. Where we're going next… you aren't familiar with."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I hope you can hold onto the contents of your stomach, Elliot." The figure put its hand on his shoulder, and he felt the warmth consume him as the scene shifted.
~oOo~
OLIVIA BENSON
The glowing child had shifted, looked a few years older, closer to the sixteen-year-old version of Elliot that she had seen just moments beforehand. However, as her eyes adjusted to the scenery around them, she found that they were standing in the middle of the 16th Precinct. A quick glance down at the calendar on her old desk, she found the date. December 22, 2006. She searched her memory trying to figure out what this was about.
What the hell were they doing here? She turned to the glowing teenager now. Brows furrowed as she walked through the precinct. Climbing up the stairs, she walked through the door to the crib. That's when she realized it. Oh. That's what she was doing here. Diverting her eyes she shook her head. Sitting on the edge of one of the bunks was a younger, shorter-haired version of herself, holding the hand of her partner. It was a quiet night. She remembered this now.
"I'm sorry, Olivia," Elliot spoke, breaking the silence. She glanced at herself, her thumb tracing the back of her partner's hand. "I'm sorry that night ended that way. You know, we had such a fun time– "
"It's fine, El. Really. I… understand," she heard herself say.
Yeah, lie to him, Benson. That'll get you places.
"I remember this," she said to the glowing teenager, who was oddly enough, leaning against one of the bunks. She pointed at the scene in front of them. "He'd taken me to the Awards Banquet on the fourteenth."
"What happened?" the spirit glowing teenager asked, resting its head against its arms. She smiled sadly, turning back to the scene in front of them.
"When we were going back to my place, he got a phone call – the twins were sick and his wife, soon to be ex, at that time, asked him if he could pick up something for them and run it out to Queens. She had no idea what he was doing that night, but she knew he would drop everything for his kids," she whispered. "I remember it… I was so… it was probably a good thing." She let her shoulders drop. "I don't understand why this is a memory I'm visiting here."
"Just watch, you'll figure it out," the glowing teenager said, shrugging. It was weird to hear the voice coming from the glowing figure. Comforting, but slightly unnerving. She turned her attention back to the scene in front of her.
She watched as the 2006 version of herself moved from one bed to sit next to him. "Elliot, it's not your fault. You're a great father, and they are lucky to have you." Her head tilted as she surveyed her partner, her brown eyes slightly watery.
Her head was tilted and Olivia just stared at the two of them on the bottom bunk. It was truly no wonder that the rumors flew around them like they did. They really did look like a couple sitting there. Swallowing the bile that had risen in her throat she watched, mesmerized. Looking at the look she was giving Elliot, Olivia thought it was a damn wonder that more people hadn't figured out that she was madly in love with her married partner. Always loving the things you can never have, isn't that right, Olivia? Her mother's voice echoed in her mind. She shook her head.
"You'd be a great mom, you have so much love to give, Olivia," he whispered. She furrowed her brows, letting go of Elliot's hand, moving slightly away from him.
"Yeah. Maybe. If I don't have to keep babysitting you, Elliot," she heard the 2006 version of herself say.
"Okay. I'll give you that one, Olivia." Elliot laughed. "I'm being serious, you'd be a great mom."
"I'm being serious too, Elliot." She stood abruptly. "Look, I'm glad that you're such a great father. So, now what?" she heard 2006 Olivia ask.
This was it. This was where she had let go of any hope of ever being anything other than partners with him, at least… until he told her that he'd signed the papers sitting on the stoop after the Stennett case. She didn't understand why she was witnessing this, if it was supposed to be something he thought fondly of. Something to show about why he was the way he was, she recalled staring.
"Liv… thank you. For encouraging me to be a better man," he whispered and she softened, the 2006 version of herself. "For encouraging me to be a better father. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Let's hope you never have to find out, El." She stopped by the door, her hand resting on the frame. "Partners, for better or worse?" she echoed the sentiment back to him and he smiled, looking up at her.
"Yeah. I hope I never have to find out either."
"I'm done here, Spirit." She turned to the teenage spirit. "I've seen enough of this." She shook her head. "Obviously he was lying through his fucking teeth." The spirit tilted its head back to Elliot sitting on the bottom bunk.
"Just wait," the spirit spoke, an odd sort of smile on its face. She was startled when she heard Elliot's voice speak and she spun around so quickly her hair whipped her in the face.
"Get it together, Stabler, this is your partner." He looked at the doorway, where his partner had just disappeared. "I wish I could be those things for you, Liv," he whispered, "I wish…" He shook his head. "You deserve everything." He tilted his head up to the ceiling. "Dear God, please– bless her. Keep her safe. Give her the things she deserves… love, a child, a happy life."
Olivia felt a shift. "Damnit, Elliot," she whispered. Thinking about that damn letter that Elliot said Kathy had dictated. Maybe there was more to it, she thought, maybe there was… a small kernel of truth in the words that had been written on the paper addressed to her.
Maybe he did want her to find a kind, faithful, devoted man. This was when Kathy was alive. She reminded herself. Maybe he did believe they got in the way of one another being who and where they were supposed to be. Her career advancing, she would've been his partner forever, if he would've let her. She would've been content riding alongside him for the rest of her life, if it meant he was in her life.
His leaving had allowed her to become a mother. It also led to her being kidnapped and tortured. She shook her head. Who needed a parallel universe though, because Kathy wasn't alive in their universe anymore. But he found this memory full of nostalgia? "I'm done now." She spoke clearly, now wondering what the hell it was about this man that infuriated her, made her melt, and simultaneously lit her veins on fire.
~oOo~
bygone eras: compunctious moments
compunctious is defined as the feeling of remorse or regret.
ELLIOT STABLER
The scene shifted and he found himself in her apartment, or what he knew to be her apartment. Curious enough though, he couldn't seem to locate her. Turning around, he expected to see bright teenage Olivia standing there, but instead, he was met with the presence of… absolutely no one. Yet, he heard a voice.
"Well… if it isn't my daughter's partner." His blood ran cold. "I know, you're wondering why I suddenly appeared, right? Were you told you'd be dealing with three separate ghosts?"
"Serena Benson," he stated, studying the woman who just two memories ago he witnessed being quite crass to her daughter, while simultaneously trying to tell her that she did care.
"Very good work, Detective Stabler. I'm impressed." Her pale eyes studied the man in front of her. "You know what impresses me the most?" she asked, standing mere inches from him. "The fact that you are the one man that existed in my daughter's life and never once tried to take advantage of her feminine charms." Serena's eyes traveled over his figure.
"She's not a slut." Elliot crossed his arms. "I can't accept you believing that about your daughter, even in death."
"I don't." Serena stated, sticking her nose in the air, upper lip curled slightly on her ghostly features. "There's something you have to see here. Something you need to understand. I hope you break through these walls she builds, because she's been begging for you to come in." Serena's head turned to the hallway. "For whatever reason, you're the one she wants but never can bring herself to admit that – well…" Serena stopped as though she was listening to something for a minute. "Fine. Follow me."
So, Elliot did, he followed the ghostly apparition of Olivia's mother toward the hallway. When he passed the fridge, he saw there was a calendar hanging on the freezer door. It was a NYPD one, small, with the two staples holding the months in place. The magnetic kind, that you rip off like a Band-Aid when the month is done. It was 2013. He'd been gone for two years. It was December 24th, Christmas Eve. But as he looked around, he saw no sign of Christmas, just a small wreath hanging on the inside of the apartment door. That bothered him, the lack of décor.
As he followed her down the hall, he steeled himself for anything. What he saw, he wasn't quite prepared for. As he stepped into the room behind the glowing form of Serena Benson, he was staring into the bathroom, where his old partner was standing. She was wearing a pair of leggings, but on her top, she was only wearing a sports bra, and she was staring into the mirror, her hair hacked off to shoulder length, straight, like she hadn't styled it in months.
He caught sight of her eyes when he looked into the mirror — they looked dead. His eyes traveled from her eyes down until he saw. He felt like he was going to be sick. Then, he realized that he couldn't get sick here, because he was not really here. Any feelings he had like throwing up, will have to wait until his subconscious was back in his body. To which, he hoped he could make it to the bathroom.
"What the hell happened to her?" he asked, expecting an answer, but ghostly Serena just shruged. "Answer me."
"Conceived by a monster, but she met the devil," Serena whispered. "I always told her, Olivia, men are bad. I always told her, the monsters, they can smell a victim. I always told her, one day, your job will make you into a victim." Serena's stance, leaning against the door, was unnerving to Elliot as he swallowed the bile in his throat. Or the feeling of bile in his throat. "She always told me, Mom, I'm a cop. I will do my job." Serena Benson adjusted her translucent scarf, her pale eyes landing on Elliot's face. "She survived." Serena shrugged, almost callous. "She'll hate it if you dwell on those."
The phone rang, and Elliot watched as she picked it up, putting it on speaker as her fingers dip into a scar cream that was sitting on the edge of the sink. "Hello? Rafa?"
Elliot listened, as the man who defended Richard Wheatley spoke to Olivia about her trial. Her trial. He told her it's been moved to the 27th of December and Elliot watched as she tensed up slightly. Then, he dropped the bomb on her. "I want to go for attempted murder and attempted rape in addition to the kidnapping and assault on a police officer charges, Olivia."
Elliot's eyes widened as he took a step closer to Olivia. His eyes traveled down over her figure, and he wanted to reach out and touch her skin, but he was afraid of what that would feel like or even do to her. "He didn't rape me," this version of Olivia stated.
"I know how important that is to you, Olivia," Rafael Barba stated on the phone, and Elliot turned his attention to Serena Benson's response.
"It's important because it's true. I don't care what you think happened. He's a liar, Rafael."
"Unfortunately, we don't know that for sure, do we, Olivia?" Rafael asked on the other end of the line.
"I know it didn't happen," she stated, as she rubbed the cream into one of the longer scars. "I'm not having this conversation. Enjoy your Christmas." She hung up, running her hands under the warm water to wash them. She placed her hands on the edge of the counter, hair falling in curtains around her face as her shoulders began to shake.
Elliot wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold her, to whisper that she was strong, fierce, beautiful. However, he knew this scene wasn't one that was playing out in front of him in real time. He watched as she took the phone in her hand and sank to the floor, like the stump of a tree after a forest fire. All cinders and ash, waiting for something to lean on it to crumble into a billion tiny pieces of charred remains. Her fingers glided lazily over the face of the phone and he watched as she dialed the familiar numbers to his phone.
"Why can't you be here now?" she whispered, pressing the green send button allowing one ring before hanging up abruptly. Elliot watched her, confused.
"She did that often..." Serena's figure said, sitting on the toilet, legs crossed as Elliot's attention was drawn to the ghostly figure. "Dialed that number, allowed one ring, then hung up. Not even enough for the call to go through."
"I used to think that it rang, but when I'd look at the screen, it wouldn't have any missed calls. She should've let it go through, I would've picked up."
"She did. Once," Serena stated, a small pout on her lips. The color drained from his face as he leaned down, fingers itching to reach out and touch her short hair. "The number was disconnected."
"When?"
"May 2013." Serena tilted her head, pursing her lips together, as though she pitied her daughter. "She called and let it ring while she was laying on the floor much like she's doing now…" Serena grounded her jaw. "She let it ring and it said the number was disconnected."
"I was undercover. I– I had no way to check the line and they disconnected it temporarily. Serena, is she telling the truth?" Elliot asked, eyes flashing over to her mother's eyes. Serena just shrugged, expression neutral. "You know, damnit."
"I do know. However, it's not my nature, nor am I allowed to tell you." She leaned back. "You've been brought here for a reason."
"To see the damage my leaving caused her?" he asked. "If I would've known—"
"You couldn't have prevented this, Elliot Stabler," Serena stated. "This was inevitable. Almost as inevitable as it is that you are seeing this. Almost as inevitable as the truth of your feelings for her, not that she believes anyone could ever love her. That's my fault, I'm afraid. You see, I tried to protect her when she was a teenager."
"I know." Elliot nodded. "I– I saw it too," he whispered. "The truth. I didn't want to argue it to death with her, back when she told me about it."
"You're the one person she would honestly listen to."
"I want to know why no one told me," he whispered, eyebrows furrowed as he turned his attention away from the mirror. As much as he wanted to reach out and touch her, he wanted to be able to interact with her. He wanted to talk to her about these marks. He wanted to show her that they didn't make her less of a person. He wanted to show her that she was strong, beautiful, fearless. He wanted to hold her closer to his chest and never let her go.
"You just said it yourself, you were undercover." Serena took a deep breath. "Funny how that works, isn't it? Shit goes south and you always manage to disappear or go undercover. She wanted you, after it happened. Hell, she wanted you while it was happening. But you just disappeared." The ghostly smile Serena displayed was unnerving. Disgusting. Twisted. She knew the words they'd spoken in the time he'd been back. "The single most important person in her life, and you disappeared."
"I regret it, okay? Are you happy?" Elliot asked, never breaking eye contact with the specter of Olivia's mother. "I should've never left. But I couldn't have been what she needed me to be."
"Regret doesn't erase the four days of hell she endured," she whispered. "She wanted to give up celebrating Christmas, this year. But there was something else bringing her joy, something she has with her today. That something brought her back to life. She doesn't need you, she wants you in her life."
"I don't need to be here," Elliot stated, closing his eyes tightly, wishing this scene away. "I don't need to see anything else."
The room faded away and he found himself sitting up in his bed, sheets pulled down, sweating. He reached over for his phone, thinking of calling her in this moment. He considered what he could say to her that would change anything, or if she'd be pissed off if he called this early in the morning. Thinking about what he'd been told, he realized that this night wasn't over yet, and if he did try to call her, the chances of her answering were very miniscule, considering he felt like he was in some sort of parallel Christmas hell.
He laid back down, his head falling in a thud onto the pillow.
It's all just a bad dream. He thought before hearing someone… something saying his name. Shit, Serena was still here.
"You ready to go back?" she asked, legs crossed, hands resting on her knees.
"Back?"
"I'm your lovely host for the present times. We're going to go take a little trip… if you need to go relieve yourself or something, please, by all means… do it now before we go."
~oOo~
OLIVIA BENSON
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Olivia ran her hand across her forehead but then dropped her hand when she looked up. Standing there, directly in front of her was a man in a uniform. The same man that she'd seen in a previous memory. The man she was grateful was dead, otherwise she'd want to strangle him. The anger was rolling off of her in waves as she held her hands in front of her body, she twisted the ring on her index finger, biting the inside of her cheek.
Glancing around, she realized where she was, but she knew this location was obtained after the ghostly man in front of her was already dead.
"You," Olivia stated, biting her bottom lip before she could launch into an anger-filled tirade. "You sonofabitch."
"I know," the man stated. "You hate me."
"Hate's a pretty strong word, but yeah, I kinda do. I never met you, but what I do know about you, I dislike you."
"Then let's get this over with." The man pointed to the beach house.
Olivia proceeded forward, trying to prepare herself for whatever it was that she had to witness with this man standing next to her. As she walked in, she noted that Bernie had outdone herself with the decorating. There's greenery everywhere, candles, pine cones, sprigs of berries. She wanted to laugh if it wasn't so ridiculously brilliant, the decorating.
However, the laugh died on her lips when she saw him. Her shoulders fell as she swallowed. He was lying in a lump on the couch, a flannel blanket tossed over him, his arm underneath his head, his beard was– absolutely worse than the thing he just shaved off of his face while he was Eddie Wagner. The dark circles under his eyes made him look like he hadn't slept for months.
She saw Bernie, walking through with a mug in her hand. "Get your lazy bones up, Elliot. You can't expect any sympathy from me. Drinking yourself stupid. For what? Your wife dumped you here on Christmas Eve. She's tired of it. You're going to lose your family."
"Shut up, Ma," Elliot mumbled. "You're being too loud."
"Oh, I haven't even begun to get loud, Elliot Joseph Stabler Senior."
Olivia turned to look at the calendar hanging on Bernie's wall. December 2011.
"What the hell is your problem, Elliot? You're going to lose your kids."
"I shot a kid."
"Well, congratulations, Elliot. Was she shooting people?" Bernie asked, shaking her head. "I read the news, you know."
"But she was a kid and she was gonna shoot 'Livia."
Olivia looked at him, brows furrowed as she turned to watch Bernie. Ghost Joe just scoffed. "You couldn't protect yourself?"
"The girl came into the precinct and shot into the Cage, she then turned and opened fire into the squad room. I couldn't reach my holster in time– and Elliot, he dived behind the desk and pulled his out of his drawer." She sighed. "It all happened so fast."
The scene before them continued.
Bernie sat down in the chair across from the couch. "She was going to shoot Olivia. Your partner."
"Yeah. Can't live without Livia," Elliot mumbled and Olivia's eyes widened as she heard the confession from his lips. "Couldn't let anything happen to Liv."
"Elliot. Wake your ass up. You put your papers in, you're going to have to live without Olivia." Bernie stared at him, sadly. "Whatever happens to her now is out of your control. You already lost her. Get sober, cleaned up, shave your face and go be a father. Be the man your old man couldn't be. Stop trying to repeat history. Drinkin' yourself to oblivion. I should've left you on the front porch."
"I didn't answer the phone. She called me. I couldn't. Don't wanna be like her mama. Disappoint her."
Olivia looked down at her hands. "I'm done here," she whispered. She didn't need to see anymore. She didn't want to think of him as a drunk. She didn't want to think of the man she cared immensely for drowning his sorrows just like her mother. Just like his father, the ghost behind her. She couldn't imagine him drowning his sorrows like she had after William Lewis. "Damnit Elliot," she repeated, not for the first time tonight.
"Alright," Joe answered, nodding. "We'll leave."
When she woke up again she was startled. She was back in the warmth of her bed and leaning against the headboard. She didn't know if she wanted to see whatever else was going to be shown to her. What was the point; just seeing the past was more than enough for her. She was convinced of one thing… her opinions of the man that used to be her partner were still that he was one of the best men she knew. Her opinion would stay cemented in this belief.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced over, there was no one there. She suddenly felt the urge to search for something, something that she remembered she had tucked away somewhere. Glancing at the clock, she groaned as she made her way to that hall closet that she'd been visiting quite a bit lately.
~oOo~
PART THREE: PRESENT DAYS
present days: reticent recollections
reticent (adjective) not revealing one's thoughts or feelings readily
ELLIOT STABLER
Showing up in the apartment that he'd only been to twice (once, bringing her home from the hospital the night she was ran off the road, and once absolutely drugged out of his mind while he was undercover. How he found his way there, he'll never know), he found himself standing in the hallway leading to Olivia's room. What he wasn't prepared for, was seeing her digging around in her hall closet, tilting baskets and digging through closed boxes. Walking closer to her, he furrowed his brows. She was standing precariously on a footstool.
"Where the hell did I put the damn thing?" she cursed, her eyes scanning the various boxes in the top of the closet.
He turned to look to see where Serena had disappeared to, but shrugged, whatever he was going to see, he was going to see it now. This is the present. Did that mean this was actually happening? Or did that mean this was what happened already this evening?
Suddenly, she pulled down a plain, nondescript brown box. Opening the lid of the box, she furrowed her brows, digging around among the contents of the box, searching for something. What, exactly, Elliot had no idea, but he was curious.
She reached back in the box, and pulled out an old wooden jewelry box. He'd seen one of those before, Kathleen used to have one just like it. It was interesting, because he didn't know where Olivia would've gotten a jewelry box with that particular Celtic knot on the lid. When she opened the lid, she stepped down from her footstool, hanging onto the wooden jewelry box. He watched carefully, because whatever he was looking at here, he wanted to remember. She was beautiful, with her hair slightly mussed from sleep, no make up on her face, and her pajamas slightly askew.
When she opened the lid, she was sitting on the floor, back against the wall. He watched her fingers move deftly, the lacquer on them a pale color with a small star on the corner. Similar to her nails the night of the wedding, which had small hearts on them. The older she'd gotten, he thought, the more feminine she'd made herself. Once easily fitting in with the guys she was somehow much more… everything.
Pushing aside a few things inside the box, she found what she's looking for, because a smile spread across her face and she bit her bottom lip. As she lifted the item out of the box Elliot's breath caught in his throat. "Oh, Olivia."
He wondered whether she'd gotten it. He wondered if she'd kept it. If she had worn it. Seeing it attached to a longer chain and watching as she placed it over her head, he couldn't help but feel tears pull at the corner of his eyes. She placed her hand over her heart, where the medallion rested between her breasts, littered, he knew, with the scars that mapped out a story that one day he would like to hear from her about.
Scars he hoped she'll allow him to study reverently, trace them with his fingers, look her in the eyes and tell her that she's a masterpiece. A beautiful masterpiece. That she always was. That he was in awe of her.
"Please, cease that line of thinking." The voice of Serena cut through his thoughts. He turned to find her standing there, leaning against the wall. "We have to move forward, Elliot."
He turned to look at her for a moment, "Where could we possibly have to go– if this is the present, wouldn't that be overstepping into the future, Dr. Benson?"
"I'm impressed." Serena's ghost raised her brow, arms crossed. "You know, I never liked any man in her life. They all had one goal. While your line of thinking is… I'll admit, a little salacious for my liking, I can see it comes from a place of deep fondness and… love?"
"I don't know," Elliot answered honestly. "She told me a couple of days ago that maybe I was in love with the idea of her, and not her."
"And what do you think, Elliot Stabler?"
"It doesn't matter what I think, I would never try to convince her of anything. She decides." He shrugged. "If she wants me as just a friend in her life, that's where I fall. If she wants me as more, I would be thrilled. I guess the truth of the matter is… as long as I'm in her life, I don't care where I fit."
"Now, you're lying to me," Serena stated, watching as Olivia moved about, picking things up and putting them back where they went. But she paused, while sliding the one box back into the top of the closet and pulled out an old photo box. Tucking it underneath her arm, she made her way back to her bedroom. The two of them walked into the room behind her and Serena sat down in the chair in the corner of the room, crossing her legs again as Elliot sat next to Olivia on the bed, neck craned trying to look at the photos with her.
"No. I want to be part of her life."
"No, Elliot… you want to be the only man other than her son in her life." Serena smiled at him. He glanced down at the photos in her hand, she was looking through all the candid shots that had been taken at the 16th precinct when they were partners, because he caught sight of the old squad. Munch, standing next to the coffee pot, Jeffries tossing a pen at Cassidy, Cragen wearing a Santa hat at one of their celebrations. Then she paused when she came across the stack she was looking for.
There was a photo of the two of them standing next to their desks, looking at one another with stars in their eyes. It was at the sight of this photo that she crawled out of bed and opened up the bottom drawer of her dresser, pulling out an old, ratty looking grey sweatshirt. Wrapping herself in it, she climbed back into bed, tucking her right sleeve up under her chin, she reached over to look at her phone and sighed heavily, standing the photograph up against the ornament on her night stand and closing her eyes.
"She's still got it?" he asked, surprised. "Jesus, Olivia."
Elliot glanced at Serena who was smirking. "Okay, we're done." Serena nodded, an almost sickening smile on her face. "Your next visitor will arrive soon enough. Don't try to stay awake, Elliot… there's no running from this."
~oOo~
OLIVIA BENSON
Olivia startled awake suddenly, glancing at the end of her bed when she felt someone hit her right foot. "There's something you need to see," the spirit said, and she wanted to groan out loud.
Joseph Stabler was an asshole.
As she walked through the apartment she'd only been to once or twice she found herself standing outside on the back patio of Elliot's new place. He was sitting outside, his phone in one hand, and a small box in the other. He'd bundled up in his jacket and a scarf that she'd seen him wear to Kathy's funeral. Taking a seat in the chair next to him on the back patio, she glanced over at him. He placed the phone in his pocket.
It was curious, she thought, staring at him; he was content sitting on the back patio in the wee hours of the morning, content just staring up at the sky as soft flakes fell from it. He was celebrating his first Christmas as a new widower, but yet his place looked thoroughly decorated (she assumed that Bernie and Kathleen had something to do with the decorations). It was amazing that he could seemingly just pick up his life and move on.
"You know," Joseph spoke, breaking her out of her silent observation of one of the most honorable men she's ever met, "I think there's something to be learned by watching him."
"What a father is supposed to be?" Olivia bit back. Her eyes studied Joseph's figure. The man took a phantom breath, she knew it's more out of frustration than anything, because she was not given him the benefit of the doubt. But she thought about the little pieces of Elliot's life that Elliot has shared with her, and she thought of the images she'd been shown earlier. She thought about that leather belt. "You know what irks me about you, Joseph?"
He tilted his head.
"It's the fact that you were a great policeman… you refused to be a rat on your fellow officers. You lost your pension because you refused to turn them in. You had six children, six beautiful, healthy children… and they all tried like hell to impress you, to make you fucking proud… and it never mattered to you. Your son, this man, right here—" Olivia pointed at Elliot. "He might've made stupid mistakes in his youth, but he went to that Police Camp every summer. He enlisted in the Marines. He served his country. He attended night classes while raising his family because he's an honorable man."
"He fell in love with you while he was married," Joe deadpanned. "What's that say about his honor?"
"He didn't act upon it. That makes him honorable."
"Come on, Olivia! You know what he's done since Kathy died. He's a coward when it comes to going after what he wants."
"He's grieving. He is nothing like you."
"Sweetheart, he's exactly like me. Anger, rage, chasing the wrong skirts."
"You are lucky you're dead," Olivia whispered, shaking her head. "He's grieving."
"I think he's over it," Joe answered. She turned her attention back to Elliot's figure, as he pulled out the red scarf he was wearing and that was when her eyes narrow.
"Wait," she whispered, watching as he run the material between his fingers. "Is that my scarf? He hung onto it all this time?"
"Yeah. Sick, isn't it?" a new voice answered, breaking through the silence.
Olivia froze in place. No. Nope. Absolutely NOT.
She turned her head in the direction of the voice to meet the ghostly apparition of the woman who always had a claim on the man who always had her heart. She swallowed. "Kathy."
"Hello, Olivia."
~oOo~
CHAPTER FOUR
PART FOUR: FUTURE POSSIBILITIES
"the past is your lesson. the present is your gift. the future is your motivation."
ELLIOT STABLER
Elliot found himself dragging himself back to bed after sitting outside for a little while, and when he fell back asleep he was trying to process everything he'd seen. It was funny, he thought, the way he hadn't really thought about why Olivia was the way she was, or the fact that more things affected her than she let on. Or even the fact that she had held onto pieces of their partnership. Pieces of their past. He was just glad that Serena had left him alone, although her little warning about not running from the next visitor was a little chilling.
"What the hell could the future possibly have to show me?" he mused aloud.
"Probably everything I was too damn stupid to realize was in front of my face, Stabler."
Elliot shot up in bed, staring at the ghost standing near his feet, his hands clutching the red scarf he'd curled up with to his chest. "Oh hell no."
"Get your ass up, we have something to see."
~oOo~
future possibilities: a terrible phantasmagoria
phantasmagoria (noun) a sequence of real or imaginary images like those seen in a dream; often nightmarish
ELLIOT STABLER
"What the hell are you doing here?" Elliot asked, throwing his feet over the edge of the bed, sliding on his sneakers. He was staring at the ghost of the man who had always given him a hard time, the man who had once pawned off a case onto SVU because he didn't want to fill out the paperwork. The man who had–
"Olivia." Ed shrugged. "You're supposed to see everything to make you realize– well, I can't tell you that. But you have been visited by spirits that relate directly to Olivia."
"Yeah, a pseudo-young Olivia, her mother, and what the hell do you have to do with it all?" Elliot asked, a little sharper than he'd meant to ask. Ed tucked his hands in his pocket, a shit-eating grin on his face, shaking his head.
"Oh," he said, "I thought for sure… nah." Ed grinned, like the cat that ate the goddamn canary. "So you don't know."
"Don't know what precisely?" Elliot asked, standing next to Ghost Ed Tucker, who gripped Elliot by the arm as they suddenly materialized in the cemetery. Elliot looked around confused.
"That's for you to try to piece together, Stabler." Elliot just glared at Ed, eyes narrowed, arms crossed defensively. "Now, pay close attention to this. You're going to want to."
Elliot suddenly saw her. His eyes watered at the sight before him, because twenty yards in front of him was a young man in his late twenties, possibly early thirties walking around the front of the black SUV and opening the passenger door. He reached his hand in and Elliot watched, mesmerized as a slightly wrinkled hand was placed in the young man's hands. When he turned to look in the direction of the two strangers who were invisible, Elliot was startled by the bright blue of the boy's eyes.
As she stepped out of the truck, the young man grabbed the cane which the older woman swatted away. She was still beautiful, as she righted herself, pulling her coat around herself a little tighter. Her hair, once dark brown, then caramel colored, now was gray. Not a dull gray, Elliot noted, but there were various shades of gray, and he had to smile fondly at her. Because even old, Olivia was still as gorgeous as she'd been at thirty when they'd met in 1998. Still as beautiful as he'd realized she was in 1999 when he really took a moment to look at her, to take her in, not only as his partner, but a woman.
Even more beautiful than she was in his current time. She had aged gracefully and full of dignity.
"I don't need that damn thing, Noah," she muttered. "Just give me your arm."
"Okay… relax, Mom." The young man paused. "Don't have a conniption fit."
"Noah Benson." Her tone was one of warning, and Elliot couldn't help but laugh. Even as an old woman, she carried the call for authority in her tone. Though, with her son, it was a softer sort of authority. As though he had hung the stars in the sky right next to the moon, and for that reason alone, he was afforded a certain amount of grace in her eyes.
Elliot hoped Noah knew how lucky he was to have Olivia Margaret Benson as his mother. One of the most loving, caring, devoted women he had ever met.
Noah walked next to her, supporting her in her trek to one of the various stones. For the most part, she appeared to have little problems moving. Elliot laughed, because thrown across Noah's shoulders was a folding chair in a case, and in his hands a wreath. Without glancing to his side, he walked in the direction that she was headed but came to a halt when he saw the stone.
He watched as Olivia placed her hand on the stone in front of her, a soft smile on her features. Her brown eyes looked tired, and held within them a quiet loneliness. As Noah set up the chair, he held the wreath out to Olivia who took it in her hand and rested it against the back of the headstone. "Mom, I don't know why you insist on this—"
"I only ask for it four times a year, Noah." She sighed. "I could ask more often, but I realize you have a life, and I could take a cab– but my pension only goes so far, you know."
"I wish you would move in with me and Jesse." As though this hadn't been suggested a million times, Olivia rolled her eyes.
"I told you. You're young, I want grandbabies, Amanda wants grandbabies… and if I'm there– that's never going to happen." She tilted her head, her gray hair falling out of the loosely pinned back style she was wearing it in, she turned her sights back to the stone, and reached out, holding her palm against the last name in a reverent sort of way, tears welling up along her bottom lid. "You have love, hang onto that, and make me some grandbabies before I'm a hundred-and-five."
"Mom… why do you insist on this?" he asked. "You never talk about him."
"Noah. I know."
"Mom. I'm not a kid," Noah mumbled. "Who was he, really?"
"My partner," she answered, leaving the vagueness hanging in the air. Her son furrowed his own brows as his blue eyes pierced through her. "Stop looking at me like that…"
"Like what, Mom?"
"Like you're going to psychoanalyze me. I've had enough of that shit over the years." Olivia Benson was just as obstinate as she always was, and this made Elliot chuckle a little, because as horrified as he was to be standing next to his grave, he was amused that Olivia was giving her son the massive amount of grief that she was.
"Answer me then… who was he, really?"
Olivia sighed, a heavy, long, drawn-out sigh. "You really want to know?" She turned to look at her son, eyes searching her boy's eyes.
"I wouldn't ask you if I didn't, Mom. We've been coming here for years, and I don't even know him. I don't know who he was to you, or why we're here."
"Go get a chair," she mumbled. "You're gonna need one, Noah."
"Mom, just start talking, I'm fine."
Elliot swallowed as he observes the two of them. She was staring at her son, and he was staring back, equally as concentrated, refusing to back down. Elliot had to hand it to the kid, most perps Olivia ever encountered would've folded by now. Given up. Surrendered.
"Elliot Stabler was an honorable man. A faithful man. The love of my life." Noah shifted slightly, his blue eyes studying his mother, listening to the sound of her voice. The same voice that would sing off-key lullabies to him when he was younger. The voice that would read him bedtime stories. And for the first time, he turned his blue eyes to the stone and then back to his mother's wistful expression.
"But you didn't—"
"I didn't fight for him, Noah." She ran her hand along the last name on the stone. "The love of my life, and when I had the opportunity, I just… let it go. He told me to back off, and that I was bringing him down, so I backed off. And when he needed me, I wasn't there."
"Mom, what happened?"
"It doesn't matter; I can't go back in time to fix it. All that matters is that one day I'm going to reach the end of the road, and I hope I'll see him again. But he won't be mine even then. He's back with his wife."
"He wouldn't have wanted you to be alone," Noah stated, eyes looking at her sadly.
"My ship got torpedoed in the harbor before it even left the dock." She turned. "That's why it's important for you to love fiercely, without abandon, son. Because sometimes, we keep waiting for things to happen and then… time runs out. Besides, he was still grieving his wife." She glanced two stones over, where Kathy was laid to rest at, and her shoulders fell. "The greatest man I ever knew, loved, and didn't fight for when I should have." He watched as a tear fell from her eye. "I don't even know if he really meant it when he said he loved me."
That was when the world crashed down around him. Why hadn't she said anything? Was it because he kept pushing her away? Sending her mixed messages? She shouldn't have ever questioned whether he loved her or not – he probably had since they'd met.
"Damn," Ed's ghost whispered. "That's… sad. At least I made sure she knew I loved her."
Elliot turned to look at him, eyes wide. "What are you talking about?"
~oOo~
OLIVIA BENSON
She stood there, her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she stared into the eyes of the woman who had been lucky enough, privileged enough, to call herself his wife for the majority of their adult lives. She was dead. She was a ghost.
Kathy stood, her arms crossed, looking up and to the right as Olivia took in the sight of her. "You know, I'm not mad that he kept that scarf. I mean, in retrospect, it pissed me off at first, but then I realized that as long as he had that, he seemed to be… okay," she stated, turning her attention back to Olivia. "But… you really didn't talk?"
"Oh. My. God. We have been over this. Elliot apparently reassured you multiple times through the years that we'd not spoken. Is it really so hard to believe?"
"You know; it was my idea we go to that banquet."
"Why is that, by the way?" Olivia asked, suddenly suspicious. "Why did you want to go? We hadn't spoken in ten years. You could've just not come. You could've forgone the letter. You could've left me alone. Let me live my life, just… pretended that I had died."
"You almost did, right? I would've told him," Kathy stated, a look of regret on her face. "I wasn't going to the banquet for you," Kathy answered, deflating. "I was going for him. You really don't understand, do you?"
"No. I don't. That letter, what was the reason?"
"You really don't see it, do you?" Kathy asked. "You're one of the best Detectives I had ever met, and yet the both of you are completely oblivious. I had him write the letter because yes, it would help you two talk after ten years, but I didn't want there to be any confusion on either of your parts about the position you'd have in one another's life. We were happy."
"The position we'd have in one another's life? He was a ghost to me, Kathy. You were a ghost to me." She paused, taking in their current position. "Current position in life disregarded… Why would you upset your happiness by coming back?"
"If you don't get it, I'm not going to spell it out," Kathy answered. "The state of my marriage, for the last ten years? It was good. But it wasn't great…" Kathy paused. "You know what, it doesn't matter."
"Yeah, it kind of does. I think I deserve to know why you, my friend, I thought– decided to be so… damn cruel to me."
"Because I knew," Kathy stated, her blue eyes meeting Olivia's brown ones. Even though she was a ghost, Kathy could still cut right through her with that expression.
"There wasn't anything to know."
"Yes. There was. I knew. He had your scarf. He sent you his courtesy badge upon retirement. I asked him where his Marine medallion was and he shrugged, but then he got this little smirk– and I just knew."
Olivia opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, unsure what to even do with this information, this conversation. "I wouldn't ever come between the two of you, Kathy. I missed my partner. I missed my friend. I missed your family. Hell, I even missed talking to you – as awkward as we were when we spoke when I'd call with a case in the middle of the night. I thought after Eli was born, we had forged a sort of friendship between the two of us. I did so much for your family."
"I know," Kathy stated, not bothering to wipe the smile on her face off. She was listening to the tirade Olivia had gone on patiently. More patience than Olivia could have ever mustered in the situation. "I know, and I'm so grateful that you were in our lives."
"Then why were you trying to push me out with that letter?"
"I just didn't want to lose my husband when he saw you again, Olivia."
"You should've stayed in Rome. You would've still been alive." Olivia's shoulders fell forward as she swallowed the lump in her throat. "You lost your husband because you wanted to come back for him. But why him?"
"Keep going. You're going to get there," Kathy smiled kindly.
"I don't appreciate that tone." Olivia narrowed her eyes at Kathy. "I really don't need to deal with this. Why did they send you?"
Olivia stared at Kathy's apparition with a confused expression crossing her features. Of all the ghosts that they could've sent her, they sent her Kathy Stabler. Olivia's lips part slightly as she shook her head, her hair falling in front of her eyes.
"Because I have to share with you something that I think you're going to appreciate." Kathy shrugged. "I wasn't a vindictive person, Olivia. I was only doing what I had to in order to keep my family together. The family that had brought me so much joy and happiness during my lifetime. I said we were happy, El and I… and I meant that, I truly did. He means that as well. But what he's not saying," Kathy's cheek twitched slightly as she closed her eyes. "Is that there was a piece of him that he had left back in New York."
It was this statement in which the ground fell out from under Olivia's feet.
They began walking and when Olivia looked around, she was slightly confused. They were standing outside of the Roman Coliseum and a large Christmas Tree was in front of them. "Are we—"
"In Rome? Yeah," Kathy answered, nodding. "If I had survived and we'd come back to Rome, you wonder where that would've left you… don't you?"
"So, we're in Rome. And you survived… and we spoke?" Olivia asked, trying to figure out what she was walking into. Kathy had a sad smile on her face.
"Correct. You know, Olivia, Elliot never really believed in parallel universes. Not until Eli read about them and began explaining the concept – and Elliot realized that it would be a place in which you could coexist with him in a place where he made different decisions." She walked, and immediately the background around them dissolved into a beautiful 15th Century Interior Palazzo. Olivia looked around, taking in the sights around her. There was a slight chill in the air, but she couldn't feel it. "He asked Eli for the book, you know, because it was a Science book, and Elliot always loved Science. I never understood his sudden fascination with it."
The silence that hung between them was slightly unnerving, if Olivia was going to be honest about the situation. She didn't want to dwell upon it too long, or else she'd connect the dots. She would realize what it was Kathy was saying. Kathy was standing in one spot, spinning around in a circle, with her face tilted up toward the sky. Olivia felt like an outsider, observing her in this setting. Even though she was a ghost, she seemed lighter, carefree, and Olivia wondered whether or not this was how she was in Rome. If she used to stand in the middle of the palazzo, spinning around in circles.
Olivia peeled her eyes away from the ghost, and looked around, taking in the twinkling white lights that had been strewn up in the palazzo, the greenery that was wrapped around the railings, the bells hanging from the greenery draped from side to side of the courtyard. When she tilted her own head up toward the sky, she noticed light flakes were falling.
"C'mon." Kathy led the way as they walked up the steps. Olivia looked around. "You wanted to know."
Elliot had been right, when he'd handed her the letter months ago. She would've loved this. He wasn't lying. She could've fallen in love with this.
As they walked into the apartment, she was greeted with just as much greenery, bells, bows, and poinsettias. There was a banner strewn across the room, proudly proclaiming "Buon Natale", letters tied together with green ribbon, gold bows on either side of the space where the ribbon was strung through.
Olivia walked over to the doors that were open to the patio and heard the faint sounds of carolers walking through the streets. And a bagpipe? Odd. But she recalled one of her Italian contacts explaining Christmas traditions to her a couple of years ago. They do caroling for eight nights, he'd explained, it was tradition, Italians love to sing.
Her breath caught when she saw the table next to the wall to the left of the fireplace adorned with an elaborate and beautiful nativity display. That was when she caught sight of Elliot. He was sitting in a chair, next to the fireplace.
Ghost Kathy came up behind her, standing inches away from her shoulder. "Well, you want to know. So… I'm going to let you see."
With that, she disappeared suddenly, leaving Olivia there like an intruder. But, she swallowed the anxiety that had risen in her chest and watched.
"El, have you seen my bell necklace? Eli wants to go join the carolers and I thought it might be fun to do as well."
"You left it on your dresser the other day," he answered, without looking away from the flames.
"Are you coming?" Kathy asked, her blue eyes shining in the light of the apartment. Olivia's breath caught as she saw her. Kathy in Rome was so much more alive than she'd ever been in New York. She was smiling, her cheeks had a healthy blush in them, and she was dressed in an outfit that makes her seem more like a model than the harried housewife she'd always turned up at the precinct looking like. It was almost startling, the geographical difference seemed to make her into a different person.
"No. I'm not feeling up to it, Kath," Elliot answered, his fist tucked underneath his chin as he just stared into the flames. "Think I'll just stay here for tonight." He smiled up at her as she came over to give him a soft peck before calling out for Eli, who came out of his room, with a large smile on his face. "Take care of your mom, Eli."
"I will, dad." And with that, they left.
The scene dissolved and when it reformed, she saw Elliot sitting in the same chair, this time in pajamas. She glanced up at the clock that she had previously noticed on the wall and it said 2:00 am. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, video calling her. She was not surprised when she saw herself pick up on the screen of his phone. Almost immediately, a smile spreads across his face at hers.
"Everything okay, Elliot? Jesus, what is it? Two am there?" He laughed, nodding.
"Yeah, it's two am. I just wanted to call and wish you a Buon Natale from Rome." He leaned back in the chair, holding the phone up.
She saw her smile on the phone, it was sad, she noted. Heartbroken, almost. "Buon Natale anche a te vecchio amico."
He laughed, quietly because sometimes it was easy to forget they both knew Italian. "I'm an old friend?"
"I wasn't insulting your age, El." She turned her head on the small screen. "Noah, go brush your teeth, it's almost time for bed."
"You have any plans for tomorrow? Well, today?"
"Um, no. Just Noah and I." She glanced down. "Like always."
"I wish I was there."
"Elliot." She shook her head. "We talked about this, when we met for coffee before you went back to Rome."
"I know." he sighed. "I just, I wish it was different, Liv. I missed so much."
She inhaled on the phone, her eyes suddenly flashing with regret. With sadness. "I'm glad you called," she said, changing the direction of the call, however there was no feeling behind it, and her voice sounded almost monotone. As though she was keeping walls up and armor on, because if she let that down– Olivia knew that tone. She knew the look in her eyes. "But maybe we should just keep it like this. Let's not upset the dynamic here. We both knew… I'm glad you called."
"Merry Christmas, Liv."
"Sempre, El."
The call disconnected. Elliot placed the phone sideways against his lip, shaking his head, sadly. He moved the phone down, sending a text.
In a parallel universe, I would take you and Noah to Rockefeller Center. We'd get hot chocolate from the cart that sits to the right of the skating rink. You'd be radiant. Beautiful. I'd put my arm around you, and you'd lean into me. We'd join hands as you held onto the hot chocolate, taking periodic sips.
Her breath caught in her throat. She waited and saw the three dots and then a message popped up.
Elliot. Hold onto what you have, not a fantasy.
"Ouch," Kathy stated, reappearing.
Olivia sighed sadly. "You never had to worry about me while you were alive."
"I know. But I had to worry about him." Suddenly, it all clicked. "It was never about you, Olivia."
"I didn't ask for it."
"Sometimes you can't control it. C'mon. We have one more thing to see. And I think you're going to like this one." Kathy placed her ghostly hand on Olivia's arm and suddenly they appeared in a location she'd never seen before.
~oOo~
future possibilities: empyrean dreams
empyrean (adjective) – an often imaginary place or state of utter perfection and happiness
~oOo~
ED TUCKER'S GHOST
Ed Tucker was an asshole.
In his previous life, he tormented, and tortured countless individuals trying to discover just how dirty of a cop they were. It was mainly because his wife had tainted his belief that people could be innately good that not everyone had ulterior motives. She'd really messed him up.
Olivia Benson changed all that for him. She brought out the side of Ed that hadn't been visible beforehand, this other side, the one that no one saw, was capable of love and passion. It was one that contained empathy and understanding… that was the side he'd shown to one Captain Benson, and she'd not disappointed, returning all those things in spades.
In the end, they just wanted different things, the two of them. It was an amicable split, even though it hurt to walk away.
The one regret he had at the end of his life was that they hadn't had more time. He was regretful that he'd asked the one thing he knew she couldn't give to him, and as he walked away that night, he knew he'd gone too far. She was a class act.
So, he'd married Patty. He hadn't wanted to be a burden to her when they told him his cancer had come back, this time in his brain. So, he'd relieved her of that burden. He was a proud man.
Appraising the reaction of Elliot Stabler, he couldn't help but feel a bit of pity. Here was a man who had always unknowingly held Olivia Benson's heart in his hands and yet remained completely oblivious as to the gift he'd been given.
It was obvious, staring at Elliot Stabler right then, that he had no idea that Ed Tucker had held Olivia Benson close while he'd been gone. This could be fun.
~oOo~
ELLIOT STABLER
Elliot wasn't sure what the hell to make of what he'd just been told. Gaining his constitution once more, he shook his head, running his hand over his face. "You made sure to know how you felt about her?" He asked once more, eyes wide, running ten thousand scenarios through his mind.
"Stabler, did you think Benson was a nun?" Ed's ghost asked. "Nah, she's a woman with impeccable taste and fierce loyalty. Not to mention extremely trustworthy."
"You had her arrested for murder."
"I was doing my job, the evidence pointed to her." Ed shrugged. "So, yeah, I had her arrested. Bygones."
"I want an explanation."
"Then maybe you should learn to have an actual conversation with her." Ed tucked his hands in his pockets.
Elliot shook his head, turning on his heel. As he began to walk away, he was suddenly struck with the fact that he was standing in a room that he's never seen before. Brows furrowed, he was looking around. There were Christmas decorations everywhere, and photographs. He walked up to one of the bookshelves in the room, looking at the photos.
That was when he saw it, out of the corner of his eye, through a doorway was a beautiful Christmas tree, sitting in front of a window, so he walked into the room and glanced over to see a fireplace with a portrait above it. But that's not what caught his attention, it was the woman standing in front of the fireplace.
~oOo~
OLIVIA BENSON
She was surprised to find herself in the room, but it was beautiful. There was a tree in front of the window, and the decorations were plentiful. There was garland lining the doorways and bells hanging from them. By the tree was the Nativity set that she swore she saw just moments before. As she spun around, she saw the fireplace, above it a portrait.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and when she turned her eyes to the doorway to the left, she was rendered breathless.
"Elliot?"
~oOo~
ELLIOT STABLER
Suddenly, he was confused. He'd been told at the beginning of the night that no one could see him. That they couldn't interact, because they weren't really there. But he was standing in this doorway, and there she was. Beautiful.
She was wearing a soft, oversized cream colored sweater and her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. She was wearing these warm looking boots that he swore he'd seen Kathleen wearing on occasion, but she was breathtaking.
"Liv?"
They both moved toward one another like magnets.
~oOo~
THE GHOSTS
It was hard to tell where the popcorn came from, but Kathy was standing by the kitchen, holding a translucent colored bowl of popcorn, popping handfuls in her mouth as she watched over the bar. Ed Tucker stood next to her, reaching over and grabbing a bit at a time.
"Think they'll figure this out?" Kathy asked, glancing to the side.
Ed looked down at the woman and shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. Your husband always this oblivious?"
"When it came to Olivia? Oh yeah."
"She never admitted it out loud, but she'd get this look in her eye sometimes, when we were together. We'd reminisce about things and I'd ask a question and she'd change the subject. She guards herself well, you know."
"She kind of admitted it earlier." Kathy shrugged, taking another handful of popcorn. "Said she didn't ask for it."
Ed nodded. "Think we have to intervene?"
"What? And ruin this show? Let's wait and see how this plays out." Kathy leaned forward, placing the bowl on the counter. "This is more entertaining anyways. They can't keep hanging onto our ghosts, not if they want to be happy."
Ed shrugged, looking around. "Should we change the scenery here for them? So they see the future that can be? If they allow it?"
"Give them a minute to talk. I think we owe them that much. They're going to think they're both nuts and probably never talk about this during their waking hours anyway."
"Fair."
~oOo~
ELLIOT STABLER & OLIVIA BENSON
"How can you see me?" Olivia asked, reaching out and making contact with Elliot. He glanced down at where her hand rested, surprised.
"I don't know. I thought this was supposed to be an outside observance sort of experience."
"Are we dreaming?"
"Probably," Elliot answered. Olivia seemed troubled by this information. This realization. "Where are we?"
"I have no idea, all I know is I look around and I see things that seem familiar to me… but it's also mixed with things I have no idea about." She motioned to the nativity set. Elliot's eyes traveled to where she'd just directed her attention and a warm smile spread on his face.
"I do."
"Wait." Olivia placed her other hand on his arm. "If I recognize half of the things here– and you recognize the other half…"
His blue eyes studied her brown ones as his eyes traveled to the portrait above the fireplace, in the portrait are all of his children, plus Olivia and Noah as well as Carl, and a baby, which Elliot knew to be his granddaughter that hadn't been born just yet. Maureen had just found out she was pregnant before Thanksgiving.
Elliot swallowed. "Liv."
She turned her attention back to the portrait and felt tears in the corner of her eyes.
It was when they look back at one another that words seem to fail them. Suddenly, they both turned toward the kitchen area where they caught sight of their ghosts.
"Kathy?" Elliot asked, surprised to see his wife.
"Ed?" Olivia asked, shaking her head slightly and then turned to look at Elliot.
Kathy took the moment to smile fondly at her husband, well, her widower husband. Ed smiled kindly at Olivia, whom, at the time of his death, was a dear friend and former lover. They both moved toward the two passengers in this journey.
"Yes, Elliot, I'm here." Kathy reached up, her ghostly hand resting next to Elliot's cheek. Olivia dropped Elliot's hand at that moment because she felt as though she'd been caught doing something wrong. Even though she knew it was Kathy's ghost, and that the woman was dead, it still felt twenty-levels of wrong. Ed reached out and placed his ghostly hand on the back of Olivia's neck, much like he had done when they'd been together and even though she couldn't feel the familiar warmth, it was the action of the movement that relaxed her.
"You both asked for something before tonight," Ed stated. "And you've been shown things. Things that were, things that are."
"Things that have the possibilities," Kathy finished.
"But the thing about all the things you've been shown tonight, is that life is too fleeting to just surrender to allow the cards to fall where they lay." Ed looked at Olivia, with a pointed expression on his face. She knew he's speaking directly to her, because she had the tendency to catastrophize. "You have to take a chance."
"You've both been the type of people who hold words like honor, faithfulness, and devotion to the highest importance. But sometimes, this has been the downfall of both of you." Kathy smiled. "Even when there's nothing standing in your way, you pull back from possibilities because you're afraid that if things go sideways, well..."
"You'll be left with nothing," Ed finished.
"But you shouldn't be afraid of what can be, this." Kathy motioned around. "Is inevitable, well, as long as you start to actually talk." Kathy looked at Elliot, "And stop doing things that you know are bad and will harm this relationship you and Olivia have. You can have all of this — you just have to do something about it. It's okay." She turned her eyes back to Olivia. "It's okay to want more from one another. It's okay to let one another in. Your partnership worked – because you trusted one another. Because there was a level of trust and devotion to one another."
"You have to stop being afraid of things that you want, afraid that it's not going to work out. You have to trust yourself to take a leap and you have to trust your partner, Olivia. He never let you fall when he was around." Ed smiled kindly at her. "You have to let him back in, because if you don't you're going to regret that more than if you do."
Olivia felt the tears in her eyes and had resolved to tell herself that she wouldn't cry. Not at this. It was too much, being told it was okay.
"Obviously, there's more forces rooting for the two of you than there are against you. However, the things that come at the two of you from the outside? You can overcome those things – together. You each ground one another. It's – cosmic." Kathy smiled. "You've honored me enough, Elliot. Allow yourself happiness."
"He'll never ask you to retire, kid." Ed stroked Olivia's cheek with his hand and she swallowed, closing her eyes, allowing a single tear to fall. "We'll always have Paris."
"El, you were an amazing husband. But, I think you were always meant to be her partner." Kathy smiled. "I will always love you, but… it's okay."
"Liv, you're still a class act." She smiled sadly at Ed, shaking her head. She thought she'd have more words to say to the man, but she couldn't find them in the back of her throat.
The two of them made eye contact, just as the room faded around them.
~oOo~
PART FIVE: NOVATURIENT
novaturient (adj) desiring or seeking powerful change in your life, behavior or certain situation
OLIVIA BENSON
Olivia Benson shot up in bed, her heart racing and tears welling in her eyes. Placing her hand over her chest, she glanced over at her phone, grabbing it in her hand, she swallowed when she saw the time. It was only 4 am. Shaking her head, she looked at the ornament on the nightstand and felt the medallion around her neck. Glancing down, she saw she was in the gray hoodie she'd kept in the bottom drawer for years.
Was it all a dream? Licking her lips, she held the phone tighter. Everything she'd seen and heard bouncing around in her mind. Closing her eyes, she fell back onto the pillow, tracing the edge of her phone. It was early. Too early.
Could she allow this to change anything? She opened up the messaging app, finding the message she hadn't responded to, and sent a text.
~oOo~
ELLIOT STABLER
Elliot Stabler rolled over, gripping the photograph of Olivia in his hand.
If that was a dream, it never felt more real in his life. He considered everything he'd learned about the woman he thought he knew everything about. He considered the fact that she didn't really knew whether or not he meant it when he told her he loved her. Or the context. But after that wild night of dreams, because he refused to believe it was real, he resolved to the fact that he wanted things to change. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to show her. What was it that he was told?
You have to show up.
He heard his phone go off, and when he pulled it over to him, he squinted at the time. But the message he received was clear. It didn't take him but half a second to decide what he was going to do about it.
As he climbed out of bed, he shoved his feet into his boots, grabbed the red scarf off the edge of the bed, and his keys off the table by the back door, pulling on his leather jacket with the built in sweater as he made his way to his truck.
~oOo~
She waited, expecting him to text back. That was why she was surprised it took so long, because half an hour later, she got a text on her phone, asking her to open her front door. Her heart racing, she threw her covers back, placing her feet on the floor and making her way through her apartment. When she pressed her eye against the peep hole, she felt it… deep in her chest, the warmth was blooming out from her heart, fire igniting in her veins.
She felt the butterflies in her stomach.
She felt her head go a little fuzzy at the implication of why he'd shown up at the door. She asked for this, she had asked him a question, and hadn't expected him to show up at her door to answer, but if he had showed up at four thirty in the morning to answer it, she wasn't going to keep him out. She pulled her ponytail out, allowing her hair to fall in soft waves over her shoulder.
She thought of months ago when he had knocked on her door, yelling for her to let him in. She unlatched the locks, and when she opened the door it happened in a flash.
Fingers immediately reached out, tangling into her hair. His other hand reached around her waist, pulling her frame into his own, as his head dipped down their lips meeting. A soft moan escaped her lips as her hand rested on the back of his head, the other sliding around his side. He moved her back up into the wall as his tongue touched her bottom lip and she allowed him in.
Their breathing was ragged, but in perfect sync with one another they pulled back from this last first kiss, their foreheads resting against one another, pressing into each other, relying upon one another for stability in this moment that left them both breathless.
"Merry Christmas, Olivia."
"I love you, Elliot."