119.

Even during turbulent times, such as when they were both sidelined from their jobs, Ed slept soundly. He had never been one to toss and turn and stare at the ceiling or out the window wishing for his eyelids to get heavy. So when Olivia awoke to him thrashing around and fighting the sheets and blankets draped across their bodies, she was startled to say the least. Ever so gently, she repeated his name and softly stroked his face. His skin was clammy and his breathing labored.

"Ed, honey, wake up."

Resting on his elbows, Ed raised his torso and looked around the room with wild eyes. "Jesus," he mumbled.

"It's okay," Olivia was hesitant to touch him in case he was still consumed with terror. "You're alright. I'm here. You're right here, at home, with me."

He sighed, trembled, and collapsed into her arms. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Olivia replied. She wasn't sure what to say. This was definitely uncharted territory. In the early days of their relationship, Olivia had, more than once, woken up to Ed's soothing voice in the throes of a nightmare. At first, it was embarrassing, but she came to appreciate the comfort and the nightmares gradually subsided. Logically, Olivia assumed the stress of the doctor's appointment contributed to this episode. Ed had seemed fine all that evening and especially so during their late night lovemaking, but, nevertheless, demons lurked. If anyone understood, Olivia did.

"Damn, I can't even tell ya what it was," Ed grumbled.

"I know," Olivia replied, "I know…"

Ed sighed, nestled his head under Olivia's neck, and held her with both arms. "God, I'm glad you're here. I love you."

"I love you, Ed Tucker."

Within minutes, Ed fell asleep again. Olivia stayed awake, listening to him breathe, his lips smack, but she noticed his grip on her torso didn't loosen. The next morning, she predicted, he'd act like nothing was wrong, he'd want to forget the incident and move on, but Olivia couldn't let him ignore whatever it was that was torturing him.

…..

The Lieutenant's office bustled with activity the weekend after Olivia's birthday. When they got chances to debrief, Rollins, Carisi, and Fin huddled around Olivia's desk, complaining about Stone, missing Barba, griping about snags in their cases, and, projecting general uneasiness and discontent. "You know what?" Rollins said at one point, "I'm clocking out for a couple hours. I'm going home to see Jesse, remind myself why I'm even...doing this."

"Want some company?" Carisi asked.

"Not really."

Shocked at Rollins' curt, rude response, Olivia stared, wide-eyed, at her overextended squad and made the decision to send them all home for a while. "You know what, everyone out. Go." She tried her best to sound sensible and kind, but Carisi looked like he believed he was in serious trouble. "Take the rest of the weekend," she added. "See you Monday. Seriously."

Rollins' mind was already made up, so she grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and stalked across the squad room. Carisi started to protest, but Olivia shooed him away. Fin turned and grinned at his boss and friend. "That goes for me, too?"

"Yes. But...a favor?"

"Sure."

"Take a call if it comes in tonight?"

Fin's expression was full of mischief and maybe a bit of admiration. "No problem, Liv."

"Thanks." Olivia plucked her non-work phone out of her purse and started to text Ed when she realized Fin was still standing there. "I'd just...like a quiet Saturday night." It was such an out-of-character comment, even Olivia had to cringe at her own words. Fin shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for clarification. "Remember that balance thing I pushed so heavily? Well, I'm trying to get it back."

"Good."

As if he'd been waiting for that particular answer, Fin walked out of the office without another word. Olivia finished typing the message to Ed, and, while she awaited his reply she opened a desk drawer, took a deep breath, and pulled out a photograph they'd had taken after a cruise of the Seine. It was set against a clearly fake medieval-looking background, but their smiles radiated pure joy. The camera caught Olivia as she was looking up at Ed, grinning, for he had been slightly reluctant at being forced to pose for the picture. However, when Olivia wrapped her arms around him, he relented and complied. After all, he was truly happy to be in Paris with the woman he loved and the boy he hoped would one day be his son.

Olivia hunted around in the credenza for a spare frame. Finding one, she removed the backing, dusted the glass, and secured the photograph. She placed it on her desk, next to Noah with his soccer ball, and sat back in her chair, gauging how it felt and how it would feel to have her relationship, her love, on display for everyone to see.

Perhaps serendipitously, her phone rang and she saw Ed's name flash on the screen.

"Hey," she said breathlessly.

"Hey yourself," he replied, "Everything alright?"

"Yes, I...I'm leaving now and I want to celebrate."

"Oh?"

"It's big, well, not major, but, I suppose, yes, it is kind of major."

"Sounds like it. You wanna tell me now? Or over dinner?"

"Dinner would be great."

"Want me to bring food over?"

"If you don't mind, that sounds really nice."

"See ya in a bit."

Olivia hung up and tossed the phone in her bag. She loved the thought of Ed ordering food for them, knowing what she and Noah would like from whatever restaurant he chose. He might get to the apartment before she arrived, but that was okay too. Everything, for once in her life, seemed to be on the right track, it was right, now, she had to make sure it stayed that way. But that was the thing, she thought to herself as she drove home, it wasn't completely up to her, she had Ed.

At a red light, she briefly closed her eyes and smiled, letting herself bask in the moment and all the moments that were to come.

She had Ed.

…

Sarah tried to keep Brooke's comments to herself, for she didn't want to cloud anyone's opinion of her sister; however, Sarah couldn't shake the malicious nature of Brooke's comments. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. Finally, she had no choice but to vent to Justin, who responded as incredulously as she had.

"Why would she think that let alone say it?" Justin asked, vexed, his Bronx accent even more pronounced. "That's crazy. And she got this all 'cause of how Noah reacted to Wyatt getting hurt? Does she know him at all? He's the coolest dude I know."

"I, just," Frustrated, Sarah scratched her head, leaving loops of blonde hair sticking up where they were pulled into her ponytail. "Every single fucking time I think she's doing better, she's happy, she pulls this type of crap from nowhere. I mean, this is her searching, clawing to stir up shit. Like I cannot get over this."

Justin calmed down much more easily and quickly than Sarah. He stretched his legs on the coffee table, careful to avoid the bottle of wine Sarah had opened, and raised his arms in resignation, "You're gonna have to. Whaddya gonna do? Not talk to your sister ever again?"

Sarah groaned. "I wish I knew what her deal was. She gets literally everything she wants."

"It seems that way," Justin replied, "But maybe we're missing something. She's had a lot of tragedy. I don't think anyone can understand how another person processes all of that, I mean, your mom, the boy she taught, Dave, kind of losing Aidan, too. And all sort of at once."

"I guess."

"Ya know," Justin reached across the back of the sofa and touched Sarah's shoulder, "I don't know if you've processed all of it."

Sarah fidgeted and shrugged. "I'm very good at shoving ugly parts deep deep down to a black hole and almost forgetting them. And, I forgave myself for my mother. She was going to do what she did somehow, whether I brought her those pills or not. Omigod." Sarah's face went white. "Justin, do you think Brooke's thinking about...ending it? And all that bullshit about Noah was her way of trying to tell me or get me to figure out or speculate that suicidal thoughts run in the family?"

"I hadn't thought of that," Justin, too, felt the blood drain from his face, "Uh-"

"-I'm going to call her," Sarah snatched the bottle and went into the bedroom.

Worried, Justin chewed a fingernail and turned on the television to distract himself. He was letting himself get absorbed in an early episode of Seinfeld when his phone vibrated. Three Yahtzee notifications popped up in succession. He grinned.

It was his turn to play with Noah T.

….

Olivia entered Noah's room and found him under the covers and holding his phone above his face. "Sweet boy," she said, "Time to put the phone down. Sleep time." Noah sighed. Instead of being startled or hurt, Olivia smiled. "Whatcha doing?"

"Yahtzee," Noah said. "Playin with Justy."

"Are you winning?"

"Two games," Noah said, "In da other one Justy got two Yahtzees so I'm losin' dat one."

It didn't take much cajoling for Noah to give up the phone. Olivia turned it off and slid it into the pocket of her sweatshirt. Having already read to Noah, she kissed him goodnight and pulled the cord on his bedside lamp. "I love you, honey."

"Love you, Mommy. Daddy comin?"

"He'll be right in."

Olivia left Noah's room as Ed entered. She went to their bedroom, changed into sleepwear, and waited. It was a long time, at least fifteen minutes, before Ed joined her. He didn't offer an explanation for the prolonged goodnight session with Noah, and Olivia didn't ask. When he slid into bed, she rested her head against his chest and flipped through an issue of Parents Magazine she'd already read but kept forgetting to drop in the recycle bin. Usually the one to favor print material, Ed turned the television to the news and muted the volume.

"You can turn it up," Olivia said, "I'm not really reading."

"Rereading a favorite article?" Ed kissed her head, "You could write for that magazine."

"So could you," Olivia sweetly replied.

"Liv, about last night-"

Olivia sat up and said, "I was hoping you'd bring it up."

"I've been embarrassed all day," he said, "I don't want you worrying about me."

"I thought the agreement was we worry about each other?"

Ed solemnly nodded. "It's just that I want to be the one doing most of the worrying," he admitted, "But...when I first heard the word cancer come out of the doc's mouth all those years ago I immediately thought of Sarah and Brooke having to bury me and now, even though, everything's good, the image of you and the kids," Ed pinched his forehead and stopped talking, unable to finish the thought.

"Listen," Olivia gripped his thighs and moved closer to him, "It's no surprise you're haunted. This is stressful. It's terrifying actually. And, not to diminish anything anyone else has gone through, but, for us, it's heightened. All of this is so unlikely," Olivia waved her arms around, gesturing to the twins' and Noah's rooms, "So it's worth living for, times-"

"-a million," Ed finished for her.

"Times a million."

"Aw, Liv," Ed lifted his head sheepishly and puckered his lips for a kiss, "Thank you," he whispered. He cupped her head and kissed her again, "I love you."

"I love you too."

After another, more passionate kiss, he smirked and asked under his breath in a raspy voice with his eyelids drooping, "You remember the first time we kissed like that?"

"The first kiss or the first kiss kiss?"

"Kiss kiss."

"I remember them both clearly," she replied, "But especially that one. I couldn't believe Ed Tucker was such a good kisser and, also, you made me, well, nervous I guess. But nervous in that I wanted more."

"Good nervous."

"Yeah."

"I remember it bein' the best feeling in the world," his rugged, powerful masculinity and confidence returned. He laid Olivia back onto the pillows and tossed her reading glasses and magazine aside, "And I still get that feeling every time I kiss you. That all is right and perfect. I guess that's why...I always wanna kiss you. Sorry if you get sick of me."

Olivia shook her head and ran an index finger across his lips, "Never gonna happen, Ed Tucker. Never."

…

Maggie always entered the apartment in a flurry of movement. She kicked off her shoes, spun around to keep her balance, nearly crashed into the closet doors, and managed to keep the contents of the shopping bags in her hands from spilling. "Mom!" She called, "I brought food we can eat now and food we can cook and eat later! Which one do you want? Where are you?"

"In here!"

Her voice was faint, so Maggie knew Olivia was in either the master or the bedroom that had begun as Noah's, became Maggie's, and was now the primary guest room. Maggie put the bags on the island and found her mother sitting on the chair in her room with jewelry spread in front of her on the ottoman.

Maggie flopped onto the bed. "What are you doing?"

"Making room in my jewelry box. Do you want anything?"

The question rendered Maggie uneasy. Her left thumb trembled-it was a tiny, barely noticeable quirk, but when that thumb shook, something was terribly wrong. When she didn't answer, Olivia stopped separating the pieces and looked at her daughter. Twenty-something Maggie resembled toddler Maggie in so many ways-a default indignant expression, piercing dark blue eyes, wavy brown hair that often was out of control, and smooth, unblemished, olive skin.

"It's only costume stuff," Olivia clarified.

Instinctively, Maggie looked to her father's side of the bed and his nightstand. She noticed his reading glasses had been removed from the nightstand and the only item remaining was a recently-placed framed photograph of the family on the Delaware beach house porch. They stood in a semicircle in front of the outdoor kitchen. Ed proudly held a platter of steaks and lobster claws.

"Honey," Olivia stood up and sat on the bed, forcing Maggie to sit as well. She kissed her daughter's head and held her in a long embrace. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset, I-"

"-you're upset."

"Okay, I'm upset. I don't like the idea of dividing everything up and throwing away things and, and…"

"I know," Olivia said softly. She held one of Maggie's hands, the hands that were, save for a few decades of wear and tear, identical to hers, "It's hard."

"And it's hardest on you and-"

"-No. Don't do that. Don't feel like you have to not grieve because I'm grieving, too. We're all in this together. And, to be honest, I had been meaning to clean out the jewelry box for a while now, it was only something on my list of things to do, I'd be doing it if Daddy was here."

Maggie began to sob and Olivia enveloped her into her arms. She rocked her back and forth and repeated, "Shhh, shhh," like she had so many times before. Maggie had always been tough and resilient, but when she was upset, she went from zero to one-hundred in no time.

"I miss him," Maggie said, "I want to text him and have him text me back with something silly and funny and stupid and then, when it ran its course, he'd say 'love ya' and always with a pink heart."

"Yes. Always with a heart for you. And always with something, um, relevant for me."

"Relevant?"

"Mmhm," Olivia droned. She kept Maggie close and continued, "He'd spend minutes finding the perfect emoji or Gif or picture to emphasize what we were texting about. If he was out shopping, he'd send something about that...he thought he was so clever, so...with it."

Maggie's body shook with gentle laughter, "Can you tell me one more thing I've never heard before?"

Olivia struggled at first to think of something appropriate to share with her daughter, but soon broke into laughter of her own. "Your Dad and I sang karaoke once."

"You. Did. Not."

"Yes we did.

"What did you sing?"

"It's kind of cliche, but it was 'I Got You Babe'."

"What's that?"

"Maggie."

"I really don't know."

"We can listen to it while we cook," Olivia said, "Thank you for coming over. I didn't feel like getting out today."

"I'll come over anytime, Mom. You know that."

"It's kind of a hike from Chicago."

"Less of a hike than LA."

"True." Olivia eyed the mess of silver and gold chains, "Why don't I put these away and we can start dinner?"

"Okay."

Olivia started to stand, but Maggie swiftly grabbed her hand. "It's okay to get rid of those things, Mom. I'm okay."

"I'm only tossing junk," Olivia said. "Your Dad didn't buy any of those. He only bought the best, most thoughtful things." She twirled her wedding band and engagement rings which she rarely removed. She held out her hand. "Did you know he designed this himself?"

"Yes. He told us." Maggie fixed her gaze on Olivia's ring finger and a faint smile crossed her face, "He liked to tell that story."

At the risk of upsetting her daughter further, Olivia said, "It'll be yours someday."

Maggie looked her mother straight in the eyes. "I'll take good care of it. I promise."

Olivia smiled and squeezed Maggie's hand. "I know you will, sweet girl. I know you will."

….

In between slurps of ramen, Sarah and Noah exchanged details about their days at work and school. Noah was oddly intrigued that Sarah had spent most of the morning in a meeting with lawyers. He asked about the relationship between her side of the accounting world and theirs. Sarah could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he pictured the machinations of global finance. Noah's day was almost as complicated. He described a classmate who threw a chair across the room, hit the teacher's desk, and knocked over a lamp. Sarah listened, wide-eyed, and, by the end of the story, pieced together that the girl must have some type of behavioral disorder, for Noah said she was not in class very often and a "helper" always accompanied her.

"So what happened after she threw the chair?" Sarah asked. "Did she get in trouble?"

"I dunno," Noah replied, "Da helper took her out and then it was almost time to go!"

"I see. Well, it's good the helper was there and I'm glad the chair didn't hit anyone. Sometimes," Sarah paused to choose her words carefully and also to convince herself her impending line of questioning was not out of line, "Sometimes it's hard for kids or even adults to control themselves when they get mad. When I get mad, I think of something funny so I can laugh. What do you do?" Sarah crossed her fingers, hoping Noah was not keen enough to pick up on her true intent.

Noah's entire face contorted with confusion.

"When even do you get mad, Noey?" Sarah prompted.

"When I lose at Yahtzee," he immediately replied.

Sarah laughed, "Yeah, that's frustrating. But you're a cool cucumber. I bet you keep playing and win the next time."

"Yep," he replied cheerfully, "I beat Justy three times yesterday and G FOUR times! She was playin' a lot."

"That's what I like about you. You keep rolling on," Sarah wondered if she was going straight to hell for asking the next question, "And I heard, when Wyatt fell, you were super calm and weren't scared."

"Daddy was there," Noah said with a shrug, "So I jus' told Wyatt not to cry and we were goin' to da doctor."

It was all Sarah could do to stop herself from jumping up and smothering Noah with hugs and kisses. Of course that's why he was so collected on the day of the accident. Daddy was there. Noah didn't have to freak out. He knew his Dad had everything under control.

"You gonna see Wyatt's stitches when you take me home," Noah said, "They're kinda purple and it looks like it hurts but Wyatt's still playin!"

"That's good. I'm sure he got some medicine, too."

"Yeah. And Mommy's been holdin' him a lot. Wyatt always likes to get rocked and for Mommy to sing to him."

"That's so sweet."

"Yeah," Noah sighed, "I like it, too, but I'm gettin' too big."

"You are absolutely not, Noey," Sarah said in a pleasant but assured tone, "You are never, ever too big to have your mom rock you and sing to you. Well, I guess, size-wise, you might get too big because you don't want to crush her, but you're never too old or too big to want your Mom to hug you and make you feel better."

Sarah expected her advice to draw a smile from Noah, but it actually cast a pall over his seven-year-old frame. "Noey?"

"Sare Bear," he mumbled gloomily, "Are you sad you can't hug your Mom?"

"Yes," Sarah replied, "But, I get to hug your Mom. My Livvie, so that's not such a bad deal."

Noah giggled, "Sare Bear…"

"What?"

"It's a GREAT DEAL!"

Sarah lifted her water glass as if it were a cocktail, "Very true, Noey. I stand corrected."

….

Ed opened the door to their regular neighborhood pub and put his hand on the small of Olivia's back as they entered. The floor creaked under their weight and they opted for a table near the window instead of a spot at the bar. For a Wednesday, there was a fairly large crowd and it took a few minutes for a server to come over. When one arrived, Ed ordered for them both. The young woman glanced inquisitively at Olivia, and she nodded. Ed's choice was perfect.

"You know I like to do that sometimes," Ed said, smirking uncontrollably at her. The table was narrow enough for him to lean forward and kiss her. "Love you."

"Love you. And, it's nice to not have to make decisions all the time. Are you going to order for me too?"

"Sure, if that's what ya want. And, you have veto power." Ed picked up the menu but dropped it when the drinks arrived. He wasn't ready to order. They had at least a couple of hours if they wanted it. The weather was cold and sleet was falling from the sky, so a romantic stroll along the water wasn't a possibility. It was fine with Ed, though, for his wife looked gorgeous in the reddish light. She'd pulled her hair back into a chignon and a few strands hung along her jaw. The style hadn't taken much effort, but it looked like she'd spent hours in front of a mirror.

"It was nice of Sarah to stay with the kids for a little bit," Olivia said.

She, too, was in a romantic, appreciative-of-her-spouse mood. She reached for his hands and admired the way their fingers looked intertwined together. When Ed played with her rings, she felt the familiar swell of emotion in her throat. He twirled them around a few times and stared at the bands and the square-cut diamond. It had been a great choice, he had to admit, and he was proud he'd chosen the design rather than pick one out of a case. Nobody in the entire world owned a ring like hers.

Olivia easily read his thoughts, "It's the most beautiful ring I've ever seen," she said.

Ed smirked proudly and kissed her fingertips. He took a sip of his bourbon, but never took his eyes off her. "You've gotta be tired," he said, "With Wyatt...God, Liv, you're an amazing mother."

Olivia always accepted compliments with blushed cheeks a bit of reluctance. However, she couldn't disagree. She had been doting on Wyatt ever since he came home with the stitches even though, after the first cranky, uncomfortable night, he showed no signs of pain. Ed and Olivia had to watch him closely so that he didn't scratch the wound, but, other than that, life continued as normal for the kids. Olivia was not going to rest easily until the stitches were removed.

"Wyatt," Olivia began in a choked voice, "He's, I, well, I have an even softer spot for him. He struggled to even be born, and then he was in the ER, remember that? It's so strange. Maggie split her lip, Wyatt gets a gash on his head. Maggie had a little cold from day care, Wyatt couldn't breathe. Maggie wants to be born, Wyatt has to be too. He's always getting the raw end of the deal."

Ed clearly disagreed. He twisted his lips and grabbed her hands again. "He's the strongest one of us all," Ed said firmly. "You watch. It's endurance, not weakness. It's grit and not luck. That kid's special, Liv. He's exceptional, really. And he's probably gonna be the one who we know the least-"

"-Ed," Olivia gasped, "That sounds awful."

"I suppose it does. And I'm not sayin' we're not gonna try, I'm saying...Wyatt's...ya know, I always compared you and I in black, white and gray."

"You did?"

"Yes. I'd always tell my partners, with us, there's no gray, there's black and white, but with you, with SVU, there's gray and not just that-light and dark gray and all the shades in between. Wyatt? He's in that gray area, that multitude of gray area, and I think he'll always be."

"How do you get all of this from a toddler?" Olivia asked.

Ed smirked and cocked an eyebrow, "Have you forgotten I was IAB?"

Olivia laughed, downed some of her drink, and, eyes sparkling, replied, "You know what? For a while there, I almost did."

….

#Tuckson