Title: Frailty

Author: ZombieJazz

Fandom: Law & Order: SVU

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.

Summary: As Olivia adjusts to her new squad, her family life is again shaken. She must struggle to find a way to balance her past and questions about her own lineage and her son's paternity while trying to find answers that her child's life are dependant on. Through it she's forced to re-examine the meaning of family, marriage, motherhood, and the significance her job plays in her life. This story takes place about a year after the conclusion of Undeserved in my AU series of stories and is a direct continuation of where Rollercoaster was headed.

Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. My stories are not EO and never will be. You may want to read some of my other ones for context on the characters in this AU first - though, it's likely fairly self-explanatory on its own too.

WARNING: THIS STORY MIGHT KIND OF BE A SPOILER FOR READERS OF UNDESERVED AND A DEFINITE SPOILER FOR ROLLERCOASTER.

THIS STORY IS A CONTINUATION OF WHERE ROLLERCOASTER WAS HEADED. AS THAT STORY IS CURRENTLY AT A STANDSTILL BUT I GET SEVERAL REGULAR REQUESTS ABOUT THE STATUS OF THE LIV/WILL/NOAH STORIES, I DECIDED TO PROVIDE THIS GLIMPSE OF WHERE IT WAS/IS HEADED. THIS STORY MAY EXIST AS A STANDALONE OR MAY EVENTUALLY BE ABSORBED INTO ROLLERCOASTER AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE.

***CHAPTER WARNING: SEXUALIZED SITUATION. MILD M THOUGH NOTHING VERY GRATUITOUS. ****

Olivia allowed the sensation to wash over her body – riding it out for several moments, while she briefly let her eyes drift shut and her head tilt back in the few seconds of ecstasy. Her hands and fingers pressed more into Will's chest. She could feel his restless hips still pressing up while she came – fighting against her contractions and likely trying to have them push him into his own. But she didn't give him a chance too. As soon as the involuntary spasming of her climax concluded, she let out a slow breath, massaging as his pectorals, and clenched herself tightly around him one more time. It was more for her, though. A final reassurance that her body was done, a small jolt of relief and control with feeling his presence still inside her. It wasn't meant to provide him with any sort of stimulation or enjoyment that might push him over the edge.

Usually Olivia cared about ensuring her husband got as much out of the sex as she did. She was conscious of his wants and his needs. She knew that he often ensured that she got her relief – sometimes twice – before he took his own. And, she knew the checks and balances that went with that. The good and the bad of being the one who got to go first. And, generally, she didn't mind helping him a long to his climax after she'd had hers. But that night was different.

She didn't really care that he hadn't cum yet. She didn't really feel like staying on top of him and letting him pump into her. She didn't really feel like rolling over onto her back and letting him take his that way either.

She'd already gotten what she wanted. And, that was to just feel something else for a little while. To just not think about every else for a little while. To distract herself. To try to find some sort of pleasure. To exert some sort of control in the chaos. To try to let go even when she couldn't. And, it'd worked. For that far too short period of time.

As her exhale finished, without even giving Will a glance, she removed herself from on top of him. He made a small sound as she did. It might've been surprise. It might've been some frustration or disapproval. But she didn't let herself think about it too much either way. She just let herself sink into the mattress instead – and reached to find the blankets, drawing them up tightly around her – usually a clear indication to Will that she was done.

She could feel him gazing at her but he initially didn't offer any comment. So Olivia just focused on continuing to try to ride the buzz from her orgasm. To try to let herself feel something other than the overwhelming sadness and horror that had been haunting her mind for three days now. That deep seeded ache that was eating at her very soul. That she didn't know how to temper at all. That her mind just kept constantly drifting back to no matter how hard she tried to focus on other things to organize and schedule and plan. To give some sense or purpose and meaning and resolution amid the trauma.

She could still feel her heart rate elevated. She could still feel her breathing adjusting to a more normal rhythm as her body came down from its arousal. Thinking about those things. Focusing on them. It seemed like a better place to send her mind for a moment.

Will finally rolled onto his side and cuddled up closer to her – apparently having accepted that she was done taking the lead, done initiating. She wasn't sure he'd accepted that she was actually done. If he wanted more that night – if he wasn't going to wait for his arousal to go down, to ride that frustration – then he was going to have to deal with it himself. And, she'd prefer he didn't beat off in the bed next to her.

He gazed at her some more. But Olivia just kept staring at the ceiling, letting out slow breaths through pursed lips.

His hand finally reached out stroked some of her sweaty stray strands of hair away from her face. She'd really let things build – for her. To ride it out. It'd been a work out. She could still feel it in her thighs – and her sex.

"You're beautiful," he said quietly as his thumb stroked at her cheek.

Olivia let out a small laugh. She knew there was a touch of annoyance to it. She didn't mean for it to be hurtful. But she also just couldn't hear it that night. She didn't want to hear it. Will told her it all the time. More than he needed to. Likely more than any woman needed to hear from her husband – or at least that's how she felt in that moment. She didn't care he was attracted to her. She didn't want to hear small sweet talk that seemed like nothing more than a vain attempt to persuade her into taking his dick into her hand or letting him mount her. She didn't feel beautiful in that moment at all. Far from it. She felt tired and sweaty and exhausted to the point she was sure she most look like some haggard 70-year-old lady anymore – and not her usual mid-aged self that she didn't think had looked too pretty for some years now while she coped with caring for a sick little boy and a career riddled with perverse assholes and atrocities.

"You are," he said again, like he'd just heard all her interior thoughts. His hand ran down to her shoulder and then down her side, tickling at some of her ribs.

"That was great," he added gently. Though, Olivia knew it wouldn't have been that great for him. He hadn't cum – and she wasn't really doing anything to dispose herself to help him with that now.

And, beyond that, Olivia knew that Will didn't exactly love when she went on top anyways – when she took control. It was part of their repertoire. She took the lead and control and ownership of her orgasm – or both of their orgasms – on a regular enough basis. It was just that Will usually preferred to be the one in control when she came and he preferred even more to be in control when he came. He wanted the upper position. He was rare he let himself cum when she was on top. He'd near always exert dominance when he was ready to take his. So how the evening had played out wouldn't have been his definition of 'great sex' by any means. It wasn't Olivia's either. It'd just been sex. She'd gotten off. She'd pretty much used his body to achieve it. It was likely nearing some sort of violation of him – though he'd been a willing participant. His willingness had likely included the expectation that he'd be orgasming before the end of the evening too, though – and not by his own hand.

"You know what would've made it better?" he asked. She had a pretty good idea. But before she could say anything – to likely rather callously tell him to go into their bathroom and take care of it – his hand at slipped under her tank and caressed at the sensitive skin across her stomach and then tugged at the hem. "If you'd taken this off."

Olivia batted his hand away – and she could feel him eyeing her more. She tugged the hem back into place.

"I think you got enough of a show," she muttered. She still hadn't looked at him – keeping her eyes fixated above her. There was a crack. She hadn't noticed that before. Their apartment was now cracking apart just like their lives. She wondered if she should be worried.

"But I like these," Will said and leaned forward a bit. His one hand landed on his left breast, massaging at it through the material of her tank top, while his mouth landed on the fabric over her other breast.

She nudged at his shoulder – trying to give him the hint, gently. To get him to move away. "Breasts look funny when you're having sex," she muttered.

He came up for some air and shot her a smile. "Your breasts look awesome when we're having sex," he said.

Olivia caught his eyes at that and gave him a slightly more patronizingly annoyed look and nudged more firmly at his shoulder, trying to get him to move away from her breasts and possible to end the entire way he was draped against her body. She could still feel his waiting arousal poking at her hip now. She didn't want to. It would only make her feel guilty about it – and she had nothing to feel guilty about. There were lots of times that he got off and she didn't. Though, usually he'd keep trying to get her there until she told him to stop.

"Will, I'm done," she told him firmly.

He gave her a bit of a hurt look. "Really?" he asked – like he wasn't quite ready to comprehend that.

"Yes," she said and went back to looking at the ceiling.

She could feel him looking at her. It felt like for a long time but he finally let out a long sigh and settled down next to her, repositioning himself so his flagging erection wasn't anywhere near her – or at least wasn't pressing into her. He moved and pulled the blankets up around himself too and lay on his back looking at the ceiling for a bit too.

"Well, I, for one, am really looking forward to having quesadillas on a daily basis again," he said flatly after a time and glanced at her.

She turned her head and looked at him. "That's not funny, Will."

He shrugged at her. "Steak orders at 3 a.m.?" he suggested instead – with a dead serious tone. She tried not to smile but shook her head and looked away to try to hide that he'd earned a small tug at the corners of her mouth. "Com'on, Liv," he said. "We have to laugh once and a while. Or else we're just going to be crying."

She reached and rubbed at her eyebrow. "Yep," she allowed. And crying – or really, more crying and endlessly hiding the tears – was pretty much the plan.

Will sighed. "Well, I don't think Noah wants us trying the next however many months. And, he certainly doesn't need us crying either."

Olivia offered no response. She didn't want to get into an argument with him that night. She didn't want to talk about what Noah did or didn't need. Right now there was only one thing he needs – a fucking bone marrow donor. And, there was no way they were going to revise that issue that night no matter how much they talked about it or argued about it. They'd just make themselves more upset. She didn't want to be upset. Not more than she already was.

Apparently he sensed that and stayed quiet. Letting them lay there in the dark and the silence. But she didn't think either of them would really sleep that night. She was sort of waiting for him to pretend he was sleeping so she could slip out of bed. If he didn't soon, she'd likely use a post-sex pee as an excuse to get up, get dressed and slip downstairs – not likely to return. She hadn't decided if she'd sit in Noah's room staring at his little sleeping form or if she'd sit in the living room and pretend like she was watching the muted TV. Either way it would just be her and her torturous thoughts.

"If you had any idea what you were getting in to, you never wouldn't gotten involved with me," Olivia muttered. She fell quiet as it fell out of her mouth. She hadn't realized she was saying it. Not out loud. She hadn't even fully realized she was thinking it.

She felt the mattress move again and cast Will a small glance to see that he had again turned his head to look at her.

"I have absolutely no regrets about getting involved with you," Will said. "Actually, I have one. That I didn't get involved with you sooner."

She eyed him. "You're laying it on really thick tonight, Will," she said. "It's not going to get you anywhere. I'm done."

He gave her a pained look and moved his eyes away from her. "I heard you," he said. "I'm not pushing you for anything. I never have."

The quiet settled around them again. Any moment of distraction – any feelings of something different that wasn't pain – they seemed to have faded into the darkness. It all just felt like the same muddled mess again. That dull sharp ache that seemed to be pulsing somewhere in her that she couldn't quite pinpoint. Or maybe more it was pulsing between them both.

"Why are you still here?" she asked quietly.

His head moved slightly and he gazed at her for a moment. "Because you're here. Because if I go downstairs I'll just …" he shrugged into the mattress and looked away from her again.

"Not that," Olivia whispered and let a pregnant pause hang between them. "Why would anyone go through this by choice?" she asked wispily.

He didn't move his head to look at her that time – he kept his eyes fixated on the ceiling too. "It's not by choice," Will said flatly. "He's my son too. I love him too. You're my family. You do what you need to do for your family – and for your children."

"You could've …" she shook her head. "You could be leading a whole different life right now."

"I don't want to be living a different life right now," Will said and looked at her. "I like my life. I'm happy."

She gave him a look. She didn't know either of them knew what happy was. That they knew how to be happy. How could the be happy with everything they were going through? Everything they had gone through? Sure – they had happy moments. They learned to find happiness in daily mendacities. But were they happy? She didn't think they could be. Could this be defined as happy?

"I am," Will insisted.

"You could've had whoever you wanted –" she pressed, but he cut her off.

"I hate when you say that," he snapped. "It makes it sound like … I'm not good enough for you. Or you think you aren't good enough for me. I hate that. I got exactly what I wanted. I got who I wanted. I wanted you – and I wanted Noah. That's still what I want. That's all I want. I want my wife and my son – alive and happy."

His voice cracked a bit and he really looked away from her then. She saw his one hand move up to his face, trying to swipe away tears – to hide them from her.

Olivia let out a small sigh and shifted, closing the few inch gap that had lay between them and cuddling against him. She draped herself over him, giving him a tight half-hug. She placed a kiss near his jaw line. His face was stubbly. She wasn't sure when he'd last shaved. Likely days ago. Then she rested her head against his shoulder. His arm came up around her, gripping at her tightly – like she was some kind of life preserver. She didn't know she could be that for him – or for Noah. She barely felt like she was keeping afloat herself.

"Sorry," she said. "I never know the right things to say to you. I make a pretty bad wife."

"That's not true either," Will said quietly.

"It is," she said. "On some level. I don't know how to be a wife. I don't know how to take care of a husband."

"I think you're doing just fine," Will said. "You've got it figured out at least as much as I've got figured out how to be a husband."

"You're a good husband," she said and gripped at his shoulder more tightly.

"You could pay me back in sexual favors," Will said teasingly.

Olivia shifted her head slightly so she could find his eyes. "Are you really that frustrated right now?"

He gave his head a small shake. "I'm OK," he said softly but she did know her husband well enough to know that there was still some longing in his statement. And, she supposed she couldn't blame him. Still, she placed her ear back against his heart and gazed downward. At least the visible evidence of his arousal and frustrations had faded.

"So much of our marriage – our whole relationship – has been focused on Noah," she said.

He stroked at her hair. "It's supposed to be. He's our son. He's sick. We're his parents."

She let out a shaky breath. "I can't lose you in all this too," she said in a voice that was choked with the mucus of a building sob.

"Hey," Will called at her and tilted his fingers under her chin until she again found his eyes. They lulled so dull even in that dim light. So tired and sad too. "You aren't losing me. You aren't losing either of us. That's not going to happen."

"You don't know that," she said and her voice cracked even more.

"I know that I'm not ever bailing," he said. "I'm in this 100 per cent for life, Liv. Through sickness and in health. I'm here."

She let out a rattled breath and he tilted his own head and found her lips. She briefly thought about stopping him. To again say she was done. But his breath – the air from his lungs – felt so good and she parted her lips for him. Feeling his tongue and his lips. Tasting him. She let herself feel all of it again. The distraction. The love. The support. The only person who was likely to at least remotely understand what she was feeling. What she was going through. And, she let the kiss deepen.

Will gently adjusted her as their kiss continued – as she didn't protest, as it grew more passionate. As their love and commitment and their struggle to cling to anything to find some sort of reality that they could grasp onto and call their own and right and normal – throbbed through them.

Will had reclaimed the lead. He'd taken over the role as husband. And his touches remained gentle and nurturing as he again played at her arousal in a loving way. As he tried to help her feel something that wasn't the pain and sadness. He was a much better spouse than her.

She'd let him nestle between her spread legs – his arousal again rubbing against her in gentle rocking motions, though he made no move to yet enter her. Instead, he continued to drape part of his weight over her, kissing her and caressing at her face and hair. Occasionally reaching to trace fingers along her outer thighs and to her knees.

Olivia could feel her arousal spreading just as much as she could feel his pressing against her.

"Mom?" she heard down at the bottom of their stairs. "Mommy? Are you awake?"

Will made a small sound of the tiniest bit of frustration. But his movements stopped. His kissing moved away from her mouth, though he still stroked at her face, drawing her hair away from it, sitting more up on his elbows, his weight pulling away from her.

"Yes, sweets, we're still awake," Olivia called. "Do you did something? Do you have an accident in bed?"

"I can't sleep," Noah said pleadingly. "Can I come up?"

Will let out a slow breath and rolled away from her. Olivia instantly felt his absence and wished he hadn't left. But he shuttled to his side of the bed and gazed down at the floor. When he didn't seem to find what he was looking for he lifted the covers and then stooped, pulling out his scrunched up boxers from the foot of the bed. He stood, pulling them on – casting her a look as he went.

He peeked around the top of the stairs and flicked up the light – giving their small son a thin smile.

"We can't sleep either, sweets," he said and started down the steps. "Let's give Mommy a minute and then we'll all have a tea and watch an episode of Clone Wars."

"Batman?" Noah said as Will disappeared out of Olivia's sight in his decent.

"Sure," Will said. "We can watch that instead."

"Or it too," Noah said confidently. He didn't sound drowsy in the least. "BOTH!"

But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe they could all be awake together. Maybe they could all watch another sunrise come up together. They could go for yet another little walk together. They could try to find the mundane happiness of family life together. Because happiness – some sort of small Heaven – could exist in a living Hell. Couldn't it?