197.

Three men, all close in age to Ed, stood between him and the first stop at the counter, and Ed wished he were thirtieth in line instead. He rolled the paper tightly, held it like a club at his side, and forced the terrible news to the backburner so he could get everyone's orders right. Sweet for the kids, savory for the adults, but Wyatt and Noah always wanted some of the Everything and Olive and Sesame and Veggie he and Olivia liked. Ed ordered two of his and Olivia's preferences, grabbed juices from the cooler, and when the clerk told him it would be about ten minutes he added a coffee for himself and went outside to wait on the shop's sole bench. He sat in the middle, making sure to take up all the space, and he didn't care what anyone else thought of the move. Cracking the lid on the cup, he blew on the coffee, sending steam colliding with the brim of his baseball cap. He diverted his eyes to the street-the cars, the cabs, the pedestrians racing to cross against the light and a surge of what he could only chalk up to comfort at being home made him smile despite the tragic news rolled up in the paper sitting beside him.

Olivia certainly was still asleep. She always texted or called if she found him out of bed when she woke up. If Noah got up and wandered into the kitchen he'd see the note and probably snuggle up to his Mommy in the big bed. Ed hoped for this scenario because Noah wouldn't want to do that for much longer, and it would also reduce the chances of Olivia finding out on her own what Ed had known for ten minutes. He took another sip of coffee and wished it was spiked. The neighborhood had changed. Back in the day he could've ducked into a bar for a quick shot of something even though it was barely dawn. Those types of places were almost all gone. Anyway, he needed a clear head.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he was certain it was Olivia but Brooke's face popped up on the screen. Ed answered immediately. "Hey," he said, "Everything alright?"

"Yes," Brooke replied. "Everything alright with you? I called last night and nobody called me back. Or texted."

"Oh, shit, sorry," Ed replied, sounding truly remorseful, "Helluva trip back. We didn't even unpack the car. Ate dinner, got the kids calmed down, and fell asleep." Ed swallowed and remembered Brooke was his kid, too, "You and Sonny and Sof okay?"

"Oh yeah, we're great," Brooke said, "I'm actually happy to get back to normal. Summer...well...it got-"

"-Sir, here's your order."

Ed thanked the man for bringing the food out and was planning on continuing the conversation, but he heard Sofia shriek and Brooke seemed to backtrack from what she was about to say.

"Dad, I have to go," she said, "Talk later?"

"Yeah, of course. Anytime." He stood up and emphasized, "Anytime."

For the first time in his life Ed did not want to rush back to Olivia and the kids. He did not want the coda to their summer to be clouded in tragedy. He did not want future memories of one of the most blissful summers of their lives morbidly footnoted. He also kicked himself for being so selfish and insensitive, for he was certain he would spend the rest of his life alternating between despondency and rage if he lost a child. On the way back home Ed had to figure out how to break the news to Olivia and also figure out where he belonged in all of this. Even though they'd spoken sporadically over the years, Ed knew Olivia and Elliot had a unique bond, one that never really broke and could be strengthened at a moment's notice.

Back at the apartment, Ed entered as quietly as possible. Everything was still. There was no noise. He put the bags on the island next to the note, which had not moved, and went to peek at the twins. What was supposed to be a quick check turned into a few minutes of staring and smirking at the two little conked-out faces. They were breathing heavily, their bodies rising and falling under the covers, and there was no doubt they'd be asleep for at least another hour. He turned around to go back to the kitchen and the sight of Olivia rounding the corner from the opposite hallway startled him.

She smiled and held out her arms. "Scare ya?" She whispered before hugging and kissing him.

"Yeah, a little," he replied. "Hey, uh, listen, let's go back to the bedroom."

She grinned and cocked an eyebrow. "Okay."

Ed's entire body deflated. "Uh, well," he grabbed her hand, "C'mon."

Olivia started kissing him as soon as they crossed into their perpetually messy room, but Ed had to stop her. "Liv, uh-"

She raised her eyebrows and her body went rigid. "-What's wrong?"

Ed fidgeted, but didn't delay any longer. "Saw an article in the paper about the tunnel accident. Liv, uh, one of the people killed...was listed at Richard Stabler. The age is right...it's him, it's Dickie." Ed had only known Elliot's son through investigations, so it sounded weird to say the nickname the kids probably ditched years ago.

"Oh my god," Olivia's hand flew to her mouth. "Are you sure? Well, of course you're sure, oh...no…"

Ed stepped aside so she could move around the room. Olivia found her phone, found a similar article, and murmured aloud, debating whether or not to call her former partner. "It's too soon," she finally concluded. "Too soon." Her shoulders fell and tears spontaneously poured down her cheeks. She looked at Ed with an expression he had seen only once before-when she'd emerged from the corridor after leaving Chief Dodds to say his final goodbyes to Mike.

Ed held her until the first kid woke up and they soldiered through the day. For many stretches, it was more than soldiering. They made an extra effort to live in the moments. They ran around the playground with the kids instead of watching from a bench. They organized scooter races. They played soccer. And, when it was time to head home and Noah suggested "da pub" they exchanged weary smiles and agreed. When they returned home, they were hot, sticky, grubby, and, despite the tragic news, extremely happy.

…

Maggie threw up her hands, nearly missing her dirty martini, and, exasperated, advised her twin brother to talk to Sarah. Wyatt was the most indecisive person she knew. At best, this particular quirk was endearing. But, at worst, when the answer was obvious, like now, it was extremely frustrating. "Or, actually, Dad might be the right person," Maggie said, reconsidering. She watched Wyatt consider his options and roll his glass between his hands. They were at a fancy bar in Washington, D.C., having traveled there to see Noah speak at Georgetown's School of Public Policy Recognition Dinner-an event they'd attended a couple of years ago because he was one of the graduates being recognized. Now he had been called upon to impart wisdom unto others. Maggie and Wyatt jumped at the chance to head to the nation's capital but sibling pride was not the only reason they were eager to go.

Wyatt liked D.C. for its presence and majesty. He loved the monuments and the history. When he was in elementary school his teacher had to shadow him on their trip to the Smithsonians because he got caught up reading the exhibit panels in their entirety. Maggie had always loved the city for a number of reasons and wanted to get out and visit the off-the-beaten-path places she loved so much, but here she was, at an Eighth Street bar, steps from the National Mall and Capitol, trying to convince Wyatt it was totally the right move to ask Ava to marry him. Or, rather, the real task was to assure Wyatt she would say yes.

"Look," Maggie said, "She's gonna say yes. I'm sure of it. You two are, like, well, when I met her the first time and you were together it was like, CLICK, you belonged. It was weird. And, you know," she put her hand on Wyatt's arm, "Sometimes there are these things called fairy tales."

The skin around Wyatt's eyes crinkled and he slowly started to giggle.

"What?" Maggie asked, oblivious to the reason why he might be laughing.

"You sound like you're fifty," Wyatt said.

"You think?"

"Yes."

"Well, I've been told I'm very wise."

"Yeah right."

"So, at the wedding, I'm going to be your maid of honor, right? I don't really know how this works when the guy's bff is a girl but...we'll figure it out."

Wyatt sized up his sister. She had always been formidable, steadfast, relentless, and Wyatt was often jealous of those qualities. But she was also impulsive and overly optimistic. Maggie frequently accused Wyatt of being too negative and cynical, but he was certain her assessments were tainted by perpetual rose-colored lenses.

"Yes," Wyatt said. He started to say something else, but he caught a glimpse of their parents entering the bar through the heavy oak door. Wyatt admired the way his father gallantly and effortlessly held the door for his mother. Wyatt had witnessed his Dad hold doors for many people, but never like he held them for Olivia. He'd always wondered how they constantly pulled off looking like they were the only people in the room, even in a crowded place like this one.

Maggie followed his gaze, "Oh, there they are," she said, "It's about time."

"Hi sweethearts," Olivia hugged and kissed her twins the same way she'd done forever. She didn't care they were twenty-somethings.

"Oh, Mom, you're so hot."

"I know, sorry, it's blazing out there."

"Unbearable," Ed grumbled. He quickly shifted moods and expressions, grinned at the bartender, and ordered two beers. He then apologetically turned toward his wife and explained, "Cold beer sounds good, right?"

"It does," Olivia replied, leaning into him, "Thanks again for going with me."

"Of course," Ed's grin changed to a naughty-ish smirk and he kissed Olivia's head. Nearby, Maggie scoffed, but Ed ignored her and lifted his freshly poured ale. "To the botanical gardens in July."

"And to Wyatt getting engaged," Maggie added.

Ed and Olivia exchanged shocked expressions and simultaneously gasped.

Wyatt shook his head but couldn't suppress his grin. "Maggie…." he growled, trying his best to be annoyed.

"Honey!" Olivia hugged Wyatt then held him at arm's length, "Have you asked her? She said yes?"

"I haven't asked her."

"And I'm telling him, she'll say yes."

"I think she will, too," Olivia said.

Wyatt looked at Ed for further assurance. "She'll say yes, bud," Ed wrapped his arm around Wyatt's shoulders, "I'm sure of it. And I don't think your mom's looked so sure of anything, not even when I asked her to marry me."

"Ed!"

"Kidding, kidding."

"How did you propose Dad?" Maggie asked.

"I actually didn't, well, not like you see it in the movies."

"Well how then?"

"Magg," Wyatt said, "That's private!"

"Fine," Maggie said, "I can just ask Sarah."

Olivia laughed. "Probably not a bad idea."

"Yeah," Ed added, "If she doesn't know she'll make something up."

Maggie grinned, "Either way, sounds good to me!"

…

Olivia obsessively searched for and read articles about the Lincoln Tunnel crash whenever she had down time. The photographs were as gruesome as they'd been the first time she'd seen them in the newspaper article Ed had shown her. After the initial article, though, very little new or updated information appeared. To most of the region, the crash was a blip on the radar, a pesky interruption to commutes, but it shattered the worlds of a handful of families and friends, Olivia included. Only, she couldn't decide when to reach out to Elliot and Kathy-she wasn't even sure if their numbers still worked and she wasn't exactly sure the two of them still lived in the area. It was odd how the Stablers had mostly disappeared from her life when they had been a steady presence for so long, yet this tragedy yanked her back into the world she used to know.

When her eyes could not focus any longer, she flipped off the bedside lamp and settled in under the covers. Ed had also been reading, but he ditched his magazine, dimmed the other lamp, and pulled her close. "Love you," he whispered as he kissed her head.

"Love you too," she replied, "Thank you for being you...I've been so off since...well, I-"

"It's terrible," he said, "I always feel awful for families when I read news like that and it's worse when you know the people. It's even worse when you're like family."

"I haven't been in contact with the family in years...they left when Elliot left."

"Yeah, but that doesn't change all the years before." Olivia made a faint noise but didn't offer any other response. "I'm gonna suggest," Ed continued, "You give him a call. It'll give you some answers and give you the opportunity to help if they need something. Even if they don't need anything, at least you'll have offered."

Olivia sat up far enough so she could kiss Ed on the lips and give him a sweet smile that, despite the sad circumstances, assured him everything under their roof was perfectly okay. "You have every reason in the world to shut down and be distant and you're not." She cocked her head and peered at him as if she were inspecting a new, intriguing part of him.

"I love you, Olivia Margaret, but you're wrong," he smirked, "I have every reason in the world to be present and be here. Right next to you. All the time. No matter what happens to us or people who are important to us. Of all the thoughts running through your mind, question marks about me shouldn't be one of them."

She wiped tears from her eyes and fell into his chest so he could hold her with both arms. Somewhere, the Stablers were consumed with unimaginable anguish, and Olivia hoped Elliot and Kathy had the strength to lean on each other rather than go their separate ways and grieve solo. It was a difficult thing to learn-to share your emotions, both high and low, with another person-and, as Olivia listened to Ed's heartbeat through his t-shirt, she hoped Elliot could find the courage to let others help.

"Ed?"

"Hmm?"

"There's nowhere else in the world I'd rather be right now."

He kissed her head once more and listened intently, as he always did before starting to fall asleep, for any kid-related noises. "I'm glad," he rasped into her hair, "And, me neither."

….

News of Chief Gabriel's passing quickly reverberated through NYPD channels. Within hours, a pall was cast over precincts and squad rooms and officers who knew him best walked around with slumped shoulders and dour expressions on their faces. When Olivia heard of the death, she was in her office with Fin debating the developments of one of the dozens of cases they had been juggling in the past weeks. Initially, Olivia mumbled a gloomy, "that's too bad," and went back to the contents of the folders on her desk, but when she realized Fin had gone mute, she looked up and raised her eyebrows.

"What?"

"You're not gonna call Tucker?"

"I'm sure he's heard."

Fin shrugged, "Oh, I thought Tucker knew him a little better than most of us. Being in HNT and all."

Now it was Olivia's turn to shrug, "He never mentioned it, but...he doesn't mention many people he works or worked with believe it or not." She put her pen down and removed her reading glasses, "Why did you think of Tucker?"

"Last time I saw Gabriel," Fin replied slowly, choosing his words carefully, "It was when Tucker showed up at that standoff. With Utley?"

"Oh...right…"

"They had a little bit of a heated conversation."

"They did?" Olivia leaned forward, eager for the gossip, even though it occurred in the context of her being in grave danger.

"Lemme put it this way," Fin said, "Gabriel wanted to go in, use force, and Tucker wanted everyone to stand down and let him keep talking. Tucker wanted to be the guy to get you outta there."

"I'm sure he didn't care who got me out of there. As long as I was out."

Fin nodded. "He was worried. But he didn't argue. I got the sense they had history. You shoulda seen Tucker's face when Gabriel told him he would take it from there." Fin narrowed his eyes, "You okay talking about this?"

"Actually, yes," Olivia screwed up her face, shocked by her own nonchalance. Somehow she was able to separate what happened in the house from what occurred outside. "I can picture his face…"

"Yeah," Fin replied, smiling, "I knew somethin' was up."

"It was new then," Olivia recalled, "It must have been, well, I know, it was gut wrenching for him."

"And us," Fin pointed out with a wry smile.

Olivia returned the grin. "Right." She absentmindedly played with the necklace she was wearing-a gift from Tucker. "I should probably give him a call. Thanks for mentioning it."

Fin held out his hands, "That's what I'm here for."

Olivia chuckled and grabbed her phone. "Sure. Listen, I'm going to try and get home to have dinner with Noah. We can finish this tomorrow. You're good for tonight?"

"I got it," Fin replied, "I'll call if anything big comes up."

"Thanks. Oh, and Fin?"

"Yeah?"

"You know I would have told you, it-"

"Don't even worry about it," Fin said, "I'm just glad you're happy, Liv. We all are. And yes, we can tell."

Olivia didn't bother suppressing her grin. "There was a time I would've been extremely uncomfortable to admit any of this," she said, "But for some reason, now, I'm not."

"Maybe that means it's right."

"Maybe."

…

The Stabler family had gathered at Maureen Stabler's apartment, and Elliot suggested he and Olivia meet somewhere else more to give him a chance to take a breather than for any other reason. He chose a bar on the same block as Noah's school, and Olivia wondered if she and Maureen had unknowingly crossed paths at some point in the past few years. Olivia hadn't seen Elliot since he'd popped into the Benson Center after it first opened. The whole thing with the phone call and the Jo Marlowe connection over the summer barely registered. When he walked into the bar, he looked like the same old Elliot-tough, a bit overconfident, always prone to fits of rage-but after he and Olivia exchanged a quick hug, the swagger and bravado disappeared.

"Elliot," Olivia said softly in a voice slightly above a whisper, "I am so, so sorry."

He stared at his feet and nodded.

Olivia patted his back, "How is everyone holding up? How are you holding up?"

"It's the busy that's saving us right now," he muttered. "Planning the funeral, the details, all of that…"

Clearly, Elliot was still in shock. Olivia guessed he had been wading through the past few days in a cloud, with all the activity seeming like it was happening to another family and he was simply observing from afar.

"Is there anything we can do?" Olivia asked.

"No, no," Elliot held his glass with both hands. He moved his legs back and forth so his knees knocked together every couple of seconds. "Nothing. I, uh, I'm so glad you called." He turned his head to face her, "I don't deserve that kind of grace. Not from you. Not from anyone."

Olivia couldn't tell if he was wallowing in self-pity or if he was alluding to some sin he'd committed. Either way, it wasn't the time nor was it her place to ask. She started to reach out to touch his arm but stopped herself. "Of course I was going to call," she said, "I'm glad you picked up. And I'm glad you wanted to see me, come here, and take a little break. It's important to remember to take care of yourself."

"Yeah…" he muttered.

"Yeah…"

"Tell me somethin' good, Liv," Elliot blurted out. "Tell me about your kids. Tell me about Tucker. Anything. Just...anything."

Olivia smiled. "We spent most of the summer at the beach," she began, "The kids, Noah, my twins Maggie and Wyatt, they love it there. Sandcastles...boats...late nights around the fire eating S'mores and getting dirty and sticky and then taking their baths in the hot tub. Noah loves going to this little market a couple of blocks away and picking out seafood to put on the grill. We put in this great outdoor kitchen...it's like something out of a magazine." It felt odd to essentially launch into a boastful description of all she had when her former partner was at, perhaps, the lowest moment in his life, but Elliot was locked in, receptive, and even cracked a smile. So, she continued and described the reunion, the jet skis, told Elliot about Brooke and Sarah and their families. Eventually Elliot asked questions, mostly about Noah and the twins, and anyone eavesdropping would have guessed the two of them were old friends catching up rather than semi-estranged old friends and colleagues reunited on account of tragedy.

At a pause, Elliot waved the bartender over and asked for another round. "Unless you have to get home?" He asked.

"I can have one more. Let me call Ed though. Be right back." Olivia ducked outside and into an alcove to try and mute some of the street noise. Ed answered on the fourth ring and Olivia heard the kids' boisterous chatter before Ed spoke a word. "How's it going over there?" She asked.

"Good," he replied, "We're folding laundry."

"Sounds more like a party."

"Welllll, I use the phrase loosely. The laundry's clean, let me put it that way. How's it goin' there? Y'alright?"

"I'm good."

"Stabler?"

"He's...okay. I've been talking about the summer..he wants to...hear about us."

"An escape?"

"Exactly." Olivia paused so she could hear the giggles in the background. "I'll leave after this drink."

"Liv, we're good. Take your time."

"I don't think it's a good idea for Elliot to stay here much longer," she said, "And I miss you. And...I'm hungry."

"Got nuggets goin' for these three," Ed said. "Was thinkin you and I could eat later?"

Olivia could practically feel Ed's smirk radiating through the phone. She felt blood and heat rush to her face. Ed Tucker, from near and far, never failed to convey his desire for her. "Sounds romantic," she replied.

"Oh, it will be."

"I'll be home soon, Captain."

"We'll be here."

….

#Tuckson