I wrote this very quickly, i.e in less than two hours and I don't have a beta so I apologise now if there are any mistakes. This idea sprang to mind after Believe by Cher popped up on my ipod. I warn you this is angsty and sad so maybe go get some kleenex.
This is somewhat personal to me, well the subject matter is so I'm hoping I did it justice. I should also warn you that there is a lot of medical background in here and I have tried to tone it down but as I work in the medical profession myself it is easy for me to overlook the level so once again I'm sorry if it spoils it in any way.
Disclaimer: El and Liv aren't mine and unfortunately never will be.
I always knew the day would come. I always knew one day that one of us would have to say goodbye to the other but I never thought it would be like this. I always thought I'd be the first to go.
In fact I hoped that we would go together in our sleep at the ripe old age of ninety-nine because I was pretty certain that she couldn't live a day without me like I couldn't live a day without her.
I guess it was comforting to have a story like that in my head but I knew because of the nature of our jobs it would more likely be a death in the line of duty that would separate us.
Some days I would come home from work late and find her sitting by the phone with tears in her eyes. It was something she had come to expect, I used to imagine her sucking in her breath as she picked up the phone and the huge sigh that would escape her lips when she realised it was just Alex or one of my children. I spent many nights in the same routine when she worked late.
That was supposed to be how it all went down. One day she would be sitting at home and get the call, the call that said it was quick, there was no pain and that it was okay to cry.
We talked about it sometimes after making love. I'd hold her and tell her if it ever happened that she wasn't to mourn for me forever, that she was to learn to love again. I wanted her to smile again and to feel safe in another man's arms.
And right now I don't know what I would have preferred. Some days I want to swap places with her so that she can have this life and other days I think that it's better this way because I wouldn't want her to feel the pain I'm feeling. I'm dying inside.
We had many close calls, they were on both sides. I'm probably not the best person to tell you about mine but I know every single one of her's like the back of my hand.
The first time was our one year anniversary, I waited like a fool at that restaurant for over an hour before anybody bothered to call me. I never have understood what took them so long. She'd chased after a perp who on coming in contact with a dead end had pulled a knife and plunged it into her abdomen, narrowly missing our first child. We hadn't known at the time, it was only at the hospital as I sat waiting for her to return from surgery that a doctor had told me. He asked me the unthinkable, unimaginable question.
"We may have to terminate the pregnancy to save her, is that okay?"
After getting over the initial shock I selfishly agreed. I agreed to sacrifice my own flesh and blood's life to save my wife. I know that if I had said no I would have lost them both. I also know that I made the right decision but it still plaques me to this day. Even though she pulled through, even though the termination wasn't needed, even though seven months later she gave me the most beautiful thing in the world – Grace Casey Stabler. Despite all these things I still wonder if that is why God took her from me.
The second time, she almost bled out giving birth to our fourth child. I hadn't wanted another, we had three children under the age of four and she was getting older. Time was running out and she was dying for a son.
She loved our beautiful daughters with everything she had but I saw the hint of disappointment in her eyes when our twin girls – September Serena Stabler and August Alexandra Stabler entered the world.
When the girls turned one I realised that I too wanted a son with her.
"You've got three of me, I just want one of you. Just in case...."
So we started trying again, funny thing is it happened within a matter of weeks. Since the day we found out I've always thought it was supposed to be. We didn't find out the sex with any of the girls but this time we wanted to know.
She gripped my hand so hard as we peered at the image on the screen.
"One healthy little boy."
We both cried that night as we made love, finally we were going to be complete. We both had everything we ever wanted.
After twenty-two hours of labour she started to bleed. They rushed her into surgery before I could even register what was happening and as I sat and waited once again I made a silent prayer. I prayed, no I begged him to give me my wife back long enough so I could hold her one more time. I promised if he did this one thing for me that I'd never ask anything of him again. I selfishly prayed for her back for me and me alone. I didn't want her back for our children's sake although I should of.
In those moments it was all about what I wanted and that is why. That is why he took her from me.
Our son – Elijah Finley Stabler had just celebrated his second birthday when we got the news.
It was supposed to be a routine appointment, they were supposed to just be routine blood tests but it seems that these days nothing is what it's supposed to be.
We sat in the Doctor's office side by side, hand in hand. Our breath caught at exactly the same moment and I know her heart sank a little lower in her chest just as mine did.
Acute Myeloid Leukaemia
Acute Myelogenous Leukaemia
AML
In the end it doesn't matter what you call it, they all equate to the same damn thing.
The doctors spun us all the medical jargon.
Cancer of the myeloid line of blood cells.
Rapid growth of abnormal white blood cells that accumulate in the bone marrow and interfere with the production of normal blood cells.
But to us cancer was cancer. It was irrelevant if it was a rare disease only accounting for around 1.5% of cancer deaths in the US, irrelevant that the cure rate was 20-40% and irrelevant that they had caught it quickly.
To us cancer spelt the end of our world. A 20-40% chance of survival actually meant that she had a 60-80% chance of dying. I wanted to scream at them, to tell them to shut up but she wanted to hear it all. She wanted to know everything.
Reduced red blood cells and platelets
Fatigue
Shortness of breath
Easy bruising and bleeding
Increased risk of infection
I wanted to wrap her up in a massive bubble to protect her from everything bad in the world.
Things remained normal for a few days, we went on as usual but then she started chemotherapy and that's when she started to push me away.
No matter how hard I try
You keep pushing me aside
And I can't break through
There's no talking to you
I wanted to go with her for her first session, to hold her hand and to give her someone to lean on but she flat out refused. I had to stay home with the kids, I had to maintain normality for them. Couldn't she understand that our kids would probably never have normality again?!
She came home tired and pale and without uttering a word to me escaped to the sanctuary of our bedroom.
I hadn't wanted to know a thing, it hurt too much but suddenly I realised it hurt too much not to know. I went through her things and found leaflet after God damn leaflet on chemotherapy.
It works by impairing mitosis effectively targeting fast-dividing cells.
All fast-dividing cells, such as those responsible for hair growth and for replacement of the intestinalepithelium (lining), are often affected.
I even read that as chemotherapy affects cell division, tumors with high growth fractions such as acute myelogenous leukemia are more sensitive to chemotherapy, as a larger proportion of the targeted cells are undergoing cell division at any time.
You'd think it would make me feel better, that I would take some comfort in knowing that she had one of the 'better' cancers but it didn't. All I could think about was the damage it was doing to her.
I knew that even if I got her back from this, she'd never be the same woman I married.
With every round of chemo she became weaker and weaker, eventually they stopped her from coming home. The hospital became her home.
I'd go and see her every day, tell her about the kids. About how much I loved her, how we couldn't wait for her to come home.
She'd scream and shout at me, tell me to shut up, to leave her alone, to go home.
I would argue that she didn't mean it and that we would work things out together but she didn't want to know and with each day that passed my heart broke a little more each day.
So sad that you're leaving
Takes time to believe it
But after all is said and done
You're going to be the lonely one, Ohh Oh
It was the twenty-seventh of January when she looked me in the eye and asked for a divorce. She said she didn't love me anymore that she had changed and that she didn't want me the same way she used to.
She had been in remission for eighteen months at that point and I had managed to convince myself that everything was okay.
At first things were great. We managed to get that normality back for our kids and I watched as she smiled again for the first time.
She scooped Elijah up into her arms and he had looked at her quite seriously and said.
"You are the best Mommy in the whole wide world."
For as long as I live I'll never forget that smile and those tears. The first tears in many months that had happiness behind them.
We went for long walks in the park after work, we laughed as our children played in the snow. Cooked dinner together in the evenings and made love every night like we'd never see each other again.
We finally lived life to its full potential. We appreciated everything, from the cold winter mornings to the sunny summer days. We appreciated everything that eighteen months previously we had taken for granted.
One night she screamed at me that she didn't love me anymore and that I had been her biggest mistake.
So when she asked me for that divorce who was I to say no?! She was my life, my everything and if she wanted this then I was damn well going to give it to her.
I mean I'd already committed one sin by divorcing my first wife, I might as well add a second to the collection, hell I even had time to add a third.
Do you believe in life after love
I can feel something inside me say
I really don't think you're strong enough,
Do you believe in life after love
I can feel something inside me say
I really don't think you're strong enough,
It was the third of February when I came home from work after stopping at the store on the way to get some boxes. I had every intention of packing up my things and leaving that night as our children slept blissfully unaware.
It was the third of February when I walked through the door to find August running to me screaming. Sometimes all I can see at night is the panic and fear in her eyes at that moment.
I never wanted any of this for my children. I'd do anything to take away their pain.
"Daddy, Mommy fell down. Quickly Daddy there's blood."
I'd run into the kitchen to find her sprawled across the floor. Her skin was deadly pale, the same deadly pale it had been when the cancer ravaged her body. A steady stream of blood was dancing from her nose.
Sitting at the hospital later that night she admitted that she had relapsed, she found out on January twenty-seventh.
She asked me for a divorce to protect me.
She screamed she didn't love me to protect me.
She just didn't want to hurt me anymore.
And we cried. We cried for everything we had said and everything we hadn't. We cried for all the mistakes we made and for all the ones we hadn't but most of all we cried for them. We cried for our four perfect children, our four perfect children that were about to be damaged beyond repair.
"Don't wait for me."
She muttered those words to me just minutes before she fell into a coma, just minutes before the doctors told me her body just didn't want to fight anymore.
I didn't bother to ask about options or solutions, I was too scared to hear the answers.
I ran, I ran with everything I had. I ran across green grass, down dodgy alleyways, even across the highway. I ran until I couldn't run anymore. I think part of me thought that if I ran hard enough or fast enough that I could escape all the pain that was gently killing me.
As the weeks passed I lost my temper constantly, I shouted at the doctors every time they tried to speak to me, I shouted at Fin for holding her hand. I screamed at Alex just because she gave a damn and worst of all I shouted at my children...just because ....just because I could.
What am I supposed to do
Sit around and wait for you
And I can't do that
There's no turning back
I need time to move on
I need love to feel strong
'Cause I've had time to think it through
And maybe I'm too good for you
Eventually I took the children to see her. I hadn't wanted to but Alex insisted that I should.
I watched as Grace clung to her Mother's hand.
I watched as August screamed and kicked everything in sight.
I watched as September cried quietly in her Aunt's loving arms.
And I listened as Elijah asked the question on everybody's minds.
"Daddy why can't you do something?"
With those six words my four year old made me come alive. Suddenly I needed the doctors around me, suddenly I needed to hear those words because if there was anything I could do to save her I was going to do it.
They sat me down and told me about Haematopoietic stem cell transplantation.
The transplantation of blood stem cells derived from the bone marrow or blood.
Peripheral blood stem cells provide a bigger graft than bone marrow.
The donor is not subjected to general anesthesia to collect the graft.
It may provide for a lower long-term relapse rate.
I jumped at the chance, I asked where I had to sign. I'd give her any part of me she needed to survive. At the end of the day she already had my heart.
The doctor looked at me sadly and told me I wouldn't be a match. It took several minutes until I finally understood what he meant.
He wanted me to put my children through hell to save my wife. I thought about all the times I'd put her before my children and I realised she wouldn't want this. She wouldn't want them to hurt for her.
But you know the reality was if they hurt for her that one time, they could have their mother back. If they didn't then they would be hurting for her the rest of their lives.
Haematopoietic stem cell transplantation is a risky procedure with many possible complications.
No I would not put another life at risk. I couldn't make that mistake again.
Although it killed me I refused. I told everyone she would want us to let her go. I knew it wasn't going to be easy, I knew that everyone would fall apart.
What I didn't expect was my six year old to tell me that she hated me, that it wasn't up to me to decide.
So on April second I watched as a doctor withdrew August's blood through a sterile needle. They had tested her previously for a HLA match to her Mother, I still to this day don't understand what that means.
I watched as her blood passed through a machine that removed the white blood cells.
I watched as her red blood cells were returned to her.
I listened as the doctors told me that they usually used cord blood for this and that it was likely that this would not work out for us.
I watched behind the glass as they transplanted my daughter's cells into my wife's immune system.
And I prayed that this wouldn't be in vain. Although I'd already promised God that I would not ask for another thing I closed my eyes and prayed for her life. In return he could have mine.
But I know that I'll get through this
'Cause I know that I am strong
I don't need you anymore
Oh I don't need you anymore I don't need you anymore
No I don't need you anymore
"El? What are you doing?"
Elliot was sat in front of the fire ripping pages from a small book and throwing them into the flames.
"Just burning an old diary. I became someone else while you were ill and I don't want to be that person anymore."
Olivia lent down and gave him a small kiss before heading towards the kitchen. Elliot threw the last pages onto the fire.
"I don't need you anymore." He told himself before he stood up to join his wife.
****
"Mommy, Mommy come see what we made." Elijah screamed from the porch.
Olivia pulled on her hat, coat and gloves and walked outside to see a massive snowman on the driveway. They had used some of Elliot's old clothes and had obviously been through the garage looking for eyes and a nose. They had used an old blue screwdriver for the nose and two bolts for the eyes.
To the left of the snowman all four children were lying in the snow making snow angels while laughing. Olivia allowed herself to smile and wondered if it was okay to smile so soon after losing him.
She decided that it was okay because that was supposed to be how it all went down. One day she would be sitting at home and get the call, the call that said it was quick, there was no pain and that it was okay to cry.
They'd talked about it sometimes after making love. He'd hold her and tell her if it ever happened that she wasn't to mourn for him forever, that she was to learn to love again. He wanted her to smile again and to feel safe in another man's arms.
She wasn't sure about another man, that was all a little too hard to handle but she was sure that she could manage a little smile every now and again.
When I started this I had a very different ending in mind, Olivia was supposed to die and then towards the end I changed my mind she was going to pull through but then suddenly I just wrote that ending, it came from nowhere. I'm not sure if it was the right choice but what the hell I did it already. I hope you enjoyed it.