tee-hee. over 400 reviews. this story has officially kicked some fanfiction ass.
(flaunts, gloats, etc. for a few minutes)
no, really. I actually went to the library computers after school today and checked to see if there were more reviews. and I was like 'oh, I am loved.' you all improved my day. so pat yourselves on the back for that one. making the day of a depressive angsty teenager is a very big achievement in the world. it's kind of like hugging Nelson Mandela. or Gandhi. or Mother Teresa.
but mostly Nelson Mandela, because I named my calculator after him.
so anywhoo, I have been debating and debating over what to do with this storyline. I mean, I have the continual Personal Messages about plot suggestions. and some of them are really good. they're kind of vague and generally involve the exact same thing, and DON'T PANIC. I'm taking it all into consideration. I'm taking it very seriously. VERY seriously. VERRRRRRRYYY SERIOSSSSSSLY. (wink-wink-nudge-nudge-take-a-photograph)
over 400 reviews though? (!) and 40000 hits? (!) you spoil me rotten.
I just wanted to thank you all for hitting this milestone in the story. I couldn't have gotten this far without all the support I keep getting from my readers and I certainly wouldn't have kept writing if I didn't know there would be a hundred people waiting for it. but there is and you are and I am just so amazed at the reception I've gotten from this story.
thanks for helping me live a small dream. I love you all.
and since I know you all trust me, I'm about to take some creative liberties with this story. and tweak it my way. mwahahahahaha.
…
She woke up to the familiar buzz of the city; the horns from the continually irritated drivers, the stopping and the starting of engines, the sound of words in a dozen languages that carried itself into the air and lingered just above the horizon, sounding of a thousand voices beating as one. Maureen Stabler blinked at the dim light coming through a grey window and stirred in the chair she'd spent the night in. Donna was gone, a coffee sitting amiably in her place. And when she glanced to the bed, her father was still sleeping there, snoring slightly.
She rolled over so that her head rested on her arm, smiling at the one man she'd always been able to count on. There'd been times when the rest of the world had seemed so fragile, weak; yet Elliot Stabler stood through the thrashing of the ages and learned to face them again. She'd seen him win and she'd seen him fail, and time and time again Maureen had watched his determination forming deep in his irises, burning brightly as he turned to his family before walking out the door. But Maureen had never seen him break.
Yet now he was surely broken.
Her cell phone was in her pocket, vibrating against her thigh and finally waking her senses. She got to her feet, stretching as she shuffled out into the hall, where activities had yet to slow from the pace of the following night. Yawning interns paced after bright-eyed nurses and doctors, laundry was being distributed along with the medications, and somewhere, somehow, a phone was always ringing. She opened her own and held it to her ear.
"Hello?"
"Maureen?"
"Kathleen, hey." She covered her mouth to restrain a yawn, leaning against the nearest free wall. "Did you get my message last night?"
"Yeah, I'm on my way right now. Connecticut's traffic was hell."
"Well, don't worry. I'm here with him when he wakes up, and I haven't had to deal with any medical issues or questions yet, so…"
"And how is he?" It was a tentative question.
"He's…he's fine." She glanced into the darkness of the room. "I think it was hard at first, but…he's not seriously hurt….and he's recovering."
"So what happened exactly?"
"Well…he was with Olivia, and they were…attacked, I guess."
"My god…" There was a long pause, a deep breath, and then finally the voice continued. "Where were they?"
"At her apartment."
"At that time of night?"
"Yes." She bit her lip, giving the room another nervous glance.
"So…is Olivia alright?"
"No, she's not in very good shape right now. A bullet grazed her shoulder, and the man broke two ribs and probably hurt a lot more when he kept kicking her."
"Jesus…"
"Yeah, I know."
"How's dad…taking all of this?"
"You mean his injuries?"
"No, hers."
"Oh…I…I don't know. He's…he's changed, Kathleen." She held the phone closer to her face, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen him this concerned before. Frankly, it scares the hell out of me. She looks close to death and he's beating himself up here for everything. And you know…I think…"
"What?"
"I think there's something going on…"
"You mean with them?"
"Yeah…I just have this feeling. He's acting like he used to with…"
"With mom."
She let out a small sigh. "Exactly." Maureen cracked a small smile. "Yet it's different, you know? He's a lot…calmer, somehow. It's like he's really a different man around her; gentle and peaceful, like he is with us."
"I guess that's good."
"I guess, yeah…" Maureen ran a stray hand through her hair. "How far away are you?"
"I'm on the Taconic right now, so maybe two hours tops."
"I think he'd like it if you were here soon."
"I'll do my best." Kathleen's voice was soft all of a sudden, a voice so similar to her mother's and yet so different. "Keep an eye, Maureen…on both of them."
"I will."
She hung up, closing her eyes and keeping her fingers crushed against her forehead for a moment. She was trying to reach for something deep inside her that she was not sure she possessed, the strength she may not have inherited from her father.
Maureen held her breath, and waited.
…
"Mr. Stabler, how are we doing today?"
It was the nurse from last night. He smiled up at her, flexing his arms and hands, feeling the strength returning.
"Great. Much better." He sighed deeply, relieved at the warmth within him. The cold of last night…it had strangely passed.
He remembered her face, the look in her eyes.
Well, maybe not entirely passed…
"Good. If your tests come out fine, you'll be home by lunch. Of course, you'll have the police to deal with as well…"
"Well, it's not like I'm not used to that." He said, laughing quietly. She nodded, glancing down at her clipboard.
He glanced over her shoulder at the sound of familiar voices in the hall. Maureen was embracing her sister, dark hair meshing with light hair as they pulled together and exchanged coffees. Kathleen was pocketing her keys, throwing a jacket over her arm and pulling back a strand of stray hair. Maureen was beaming at her, probably because of the hot beverage that was now simmering freshly in her hands, and partly because of how close the two were. Even now, grown into the beautiful women he saw standing before him, they still seemed like the two little girls he remembered as they sat on the porch, one with a pink dress and her mother's pearls, and the other with a scraped knee and a bug collection.
It was almost impossible to imagine them when he could cradle them in awkward and clumsy arms, arms that were immediately made graceful when the little bundles of warmth were placed within them. Now they were something like dreams, the young women they'd once aspired to be, the adults he'd always known they would become.
Yet here he was, lying in a bed with only thing on his mind, and he felt even smaller than they had once been, curled up on his chest as they slept against his breath.
The nurse was moving militarily about him, wrapping something here, checking something there. He stared up at the faded lights reflected on the ceiling, feeling the world closing in over him. His life had become too huge for him, his world too large to handle; and now he was just a little man with too much to do, a walking shell that neither obeyed nor understood.
He wanted to have her here. He wanted her somewhere close, somewhere safe.
But even when she was a few rooms away, she was too far from the arms that longed for her. Even in a hospital, her life felt beyond repair.
"How's Olivia Benson this morning?" He asked nonchalantly, noting the expression of darkness on the nurse's face.
"I know you care about her, Mr. Stabler. But I need to ask you not to worry yourself about her condition. We are doing everything in our power to make her as comfortable as possible."
He let out an agitated sigh. "But is she recovering?"
"You need strength to recover, Mr. Stabler. And Ms. Benson, god bless her, may have the will, but as of now there is no strength left in her body."
"The ribs will heal in time, won't they?"
"Soon enough. But she has more than broken ribs to worry about."
"They mentioned internal bleeding…"
"Her results are negative for internal bleeding, so she was lucky there." The nurse frowned slightly, blinking quickly as she packed up her scanner. "As are you. Your blood tests are all normal, and your body is well on its way to self-recovery, excepting the bruises you may have around your neck. You'll be sore for a few days, but nothing more I suspect. At this point, the doctor can release you."
"But, about Ms. Benson-"
"That poor dear's here for a few more days I'm sure. A week or two if destiny calls. This never would have been so bad if it hadn't been for-"
But Maureen and Kathleen had entered and were beaming at their father. Kathleen bent over and embraced him warmly, kissing him on the cheek and forehead.
"Jesus, you scared me." She said, giving him a small smile. "And what's this? The doctor's releasing you?"
"Yeah, pretty soon." He said, though his attention was still focused on the nurse. "What were you saying, ma'am? If it hadn't been for what?"
"What do you say to staying with me in Hartford for a while, dad?" Kathleen was on the edge of the bed, her hand resting against his upper arm. "I have a spare bedroom and that way I could keep an eye on you until everything's healed. I'm sure Cragen could give you the week off, right?"
But much as Elliot would have gladly accepted her offer, it was the nurse he needed now.
"I can stay here with Olivia, can't I?" He asked the woman to his left, who nodded placidly and placed the clipboard on the table. "She'll recover eventually, won't she?"
The nurse frowned slightly, her eyes suddenly deep and dark, that compassionate fear all adults inherit with age and experience filling her irises once more. "I'm sure she will, when the time comes." She bit her lip. "It's the baby we're all worried about."