Strange Attraction

Law & Order: SVU

by RoadrunnerGER

Disclaimer: Don't own them, not one of them. Lucky Dick Wolf. :D

A/N: As always, thanks for the reviews. :D Many thanks to my beta. Without you this story would not even exist. Your ideas and encouragement are a great help. Thank you. :)

7

Talk

Did I go too fast? Mike wondered when Elliot broke out of their embrace. It seemed to be so easy now, he even kissed me in return. I just reacted to him… and that was when he pushed me away. When he looked at him now, Elliot had a haunted look in his eyes and shivered violently, avoiding looking at Mike in return. He stumbled backwards until he hit the doorframe to the bathroom, his face a mask of mental pain.

"What's wrong?" Mike demanded to know.

"N-nothing," Elliot stammered, panting, shaking his head violently. "Just, we… we shouldn't... it's wrong… a sin."

But Mike could tell there was more to it than that.

"I… I should go," Elliot started looking around for his clothes. Seeing his shirt he reached for it, but Mike grabbed his wrist.

"Wait!" Mike pleaded. "What did I do? How did I upset you?"

"You didn't!" Elliot snapped, winding his arm out of Mike's grip. "It's… just wrong!" he gasped in an almost breaking voice. But Mike was having none of it.

"Whatever I did, I'm sorry. We can stop now if you want to, just tell me how I upset you!"

In Elliot's expression Mike could read how his mind was working on overdrive and then it all bubbled out of him.

"Not you, me… I… got that temper! Made mistakes… always used to! Couldn't hold her! I'm a coward, unworthy and filthy… he said so!"

"Wait!" Mike tried to stop him. Elliot's agitation was more than obvious and when Mike reached out for him, wanting to take his arm to make him stay, he lashed out at him.

"Let me go! It's wrong! I can't… he knew it… I deserve it. That rage! I'm filthy! I just proved that! It's…"

"Elliot!"

Once more Mike attempted to grab him, but Elliot flinched back. So he followed him and that was when Elliot's expression changed. Furiously he stared at Mike, projecting his pain on him, and when Mike made another step forward he avoided his outstretched hand and shoved him back hard.

So hard that Mike went down backwards and crashed into the cupboard.

For a few seconds Elliot stood in the middle of the room, paralysed, staring at his fellow detective. Then he rushed over to squat down next to him.

"Mike?" he gasped. "Are you okay? My God! I didn't mean to do that! I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Mike mumbled. Out of slightly glassy eyes he looked straight into Elliot's sapphires. Then he chuckled. "Wow! Those muscles keep their promise!"

Elliot frowned, uncertain how to reply, but then his fear bubbled up inside of him again.

"You scared the shit out of me!" he grumbled, boxing Mike's upper arm. "You could have cracked your skull or broken your neck when you fell. I thought I'd have hurt you."

"Just the moment I hit the furniture." Mike grinned. "I'll survive."

"You better!" Still he was tense with fear. When he had seen Mike fall he already had Warner or Rodgers on his mind and CSU techs swarming the living room. But that was only a fleeting thought. His tension originated in his unease about what had been happening between him and Mike. It scared the crap out of him. He had to get rid of some of the tension, so he good-naturedly boxed him again, but this time Mike intercepted his blow. Holding Elliot's arm he tried to lock his gaze with him.

Elliot froze.

It was not the touch that bothered him, it was the look in Mike's eyes, his whole expression. There was something going on in his mind and he was about to find out what.

"Will you answer me a question?" Mike asked cautiously.

"If I can."

"What bad experiences did you have to make you so unwilling?" Mike tried his best to sound confident and concerned. After the broken phrases he had heard he could not help but imagine that previous experiences had made Elliot ashamed and reluctant. He got no answer, but Elliot also did not try to retreat. Maybe I chose the wrong words. But now they're out. Still he was not willing to let the subject go, so he decided to try it again.

"What did you mean when you said that you're filthy?"

Stunned, Elliot sat back on his heels, but did not try to wind out of Mike's grasp. It took some time until he found his voice again.

"I said that?" he croaked.

Mike nodded.

Ooops. Elliot swallowed, fixing his gaze on the floor now. What else did I say?

"Elliot, you're not filthy, anything but that. Who ever told you that?" Mike's voice was soft and gentle, caring. Compassion glowed in his eyes.

Still Elliot debated with himself over whether he should tell Mike. Only a few people knew about that dark chapter of his life and he was not sure if he wanted the Major Case detective to know.

I have a fifty-fifty chance, I guess, Mike thought and took the risk. "Who hurt you so much? Who made you so afraid? Was it your father?"

Elliot's head shot up and he stared at Mike incredulously.

"It was not that hard to guess," Mike explained. "It's in the past but obviously not forgotten, so it must have been someone who was close to you, someone who meant something to you. And… we may have something in common. My… my Mom used to beat the crap out of me when she was drunk."

Winding his arm out of Mike's grip, Elliot backed off, getting up and making two steps back. Mike's admission, and that he made it so easily, surprised him. He was not sure what to make of that, but Mike's words did not fail their effect and finally it burst out of him.

"He… he called me a failure," Elliot said, his voice shaking, barely noticing Mike nodding sympathetically. "And a lot of other names." He went to the sofa nearby and sat down on the armrest. "And he beat me with his belt." For a moment he fell silent and he could not help the blush of shame that came to his face.

"And you accepted it, because he was your dad, and he was supposed to love you," Mike said.

"He did love me!" Elliot insisted vehemently. "He was just… angry a lot."

"Why?"

Elliot swallowed. Mike's question was simple but sincere. It demanded an answer. He shrugged, but it did not work. He felt as bad as before. "I was always screwing up."

"Really? Or was that just his excuse?"

"What do you mean, his excuse?" His tone was suspicious now. It was kind of a dumb question, but right now Elliot was not the Special Victims cop, he was just a man hurting from his memories. The way Mike asked and the fact that he had hit the nail on the head blew down his professional façade and forced him to be a human being instead of just a cop.

"I mean that you couldn't have possibly done anything as a child to deserve so much abuse that it has made you continue to doubt your worth today. I mean that your dad was pissed off about something else, and he took it out on you."

Why does Mike have to have such an insight? Elliot was more scared than he was prepared to admit. His colleague confronted him with more disagreeable truths than he wanted to face. It was just that now that he started he could not step back again.

"He was a cop," Elliot said softly after a long pause. "The Knapp commission got him fired when I was about ten years old."

"And my mom was a mean drunk," Mike said. "Doesn't mean she didn't love me, and what your dad did doesn't mean he didn't love you."

Elliot hung his head and nodded, understanding what Logan was saying to him, but with his eyes fixed on the floor, he did not see the other man approaching again until he felt the soft caress of Mike's hand on his cheek. Gently he slid his palm along Elliot's jaw and then cupped his chin and tipped his head up until emerald eyes met sapphire.

"It also doesn't mean they were right."

Elliot did not need to answer him. His tears, which stung his eyes just a moment later, were answer enough. Mike made another step forward and pulled him to his chest. This time it was nothing but a comforting embrace, a gesture of compassion and an offer of security.

"Let it out," Mike murmured. "It doesn't do any good if you bottle it up inside of you until you're almost suffocating. It really isn't good. I had to learn that the hard way."

Slowly relaxing under the gentle rubbing of his back, Elliot gathered his thoughts.

"You're right," he whispered. "I used to be really good, you know, at handling it. Oh, I'd pound the hell out of the lockers sometimes… or a suspect."

Mike chuckled at the admission. "…or, in my case, a council-man," he joked and Elliot had to laugh with him. He knew he had a certain reputation and that the department rumors had blown it all out of proportion. Then just that quickly, the tears came back, and, not wanting to pull out of the other man's embrace to dash them away, he opted instead to press his eyes into the soft curve of Mike's neck.

"People just thought I had a temper, you know?" he mumbled.

"Oh, I know," Mike confirmed. "I've heard."

"Sometimes it was just so much easier to get pissed off and bust my knuckles on something than to… to…"

When he became stuck for words, Mike helped him by filling in, "Than to face your real pain and your real emotions?"

"Yeah," Elliot agreed, sounding a little surprised. Elliot had never realized it for himself before. Not with that terrifying clarity. "But then…"

Mike held his breath and waited, still stroking circles on the other man's back. When he finally had to breathe again he decided it was time to nudge him along a bit.

"Then what?"

"It all became worse after Gitano attacked me."

"What happened?" Even as Mike did not want to appear to be too curious he could not help to ask.

"He… he held me at gunpoint. Actually I was between two guns, his and my partner's." He swallowed. "He had killed a family, taken the kids hostage. We tracked him to the bus station. The boy, Ryan, was right in front of me, but then Gitano cut Olivia's throat. I didn't know she wasn't hurt badly. I went to her first, and Gitano grabbed the boy and took him to the upper level where he slit his throat and fled with the girl." His voice became lower and more toneless as he remembered. "And when I cornered Gitano I made a mistake. He decked me… and when Olivia found us, he held his gun to my head."

Taking a deep breath he prepared to tell the rest of the story.

"That day it all could have been over. I knew we could not let him get away. So I told Olivia to shoot him."

"And?" Mike asked when he did not continue.

"Gitano would have killed me. She could not fire a clean shot so he would have taken me with him before she could take him out. In the end she could have shot straight through me to get him, would have been the same." Once more he swallowed thickly. "Saying is that your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die? I felt like that. And it was okay. If this had to be the end I was ready to go. The only thing I regretted was letting Kathy go without a fight."

Whoa! Wait! Mike thought. How did we make the jump from suppressed memories over a near death experience to his divorce?

"Kathy and the kids are my life. I should have fought for her…" A strangled breath cut him short. "I never wanted to let her go, but… I thought that… I didn't earn her. I… felt unworthy."

That's how! Mike was stunned and rendered wordless. All he could do was to offer some comfort. And that's the end of the night, he thought. There'll be no way to get out of this mood into the other.

Just a pang of regret remained. On the other hand he felt honored by Elliot's trust. They only knew each other by occasional exchanges of their squads, or had bumped into one another at court or after work at a bar. But they had never tried to establish a friendship… until tonight.

Sure, Mike had admired Elliot from the first time they met, but there never had been an opportunity to talk to him alone or least of all, bluntly said, to hit on him.

"I knew it was my fault that she left and I didn't fight because I thought that it served me right."

Oh, my. Absently Mike rubbed his back. He's just torturing himself. Reminds me of someone…

He was at a loss for words, so he remained silent. For a long time Elliot just sat there, taking comfort in the strong circle of Mike's arms as Mike alternately rubbed his back and gently stroked his fingers through his short hair. Every once in a while, Elliot's breathing would speed up and grow raspy, and Mike knew he was fighting tears again. When that happened, he would softly shush him and rock him a little bit on the armrest of the sofa.

Finally, Mike heard a deep sigh and felt Elliot go limp in his arms. Imagining that the younger man had finally given in to exhaustion from the outpouring of painful emotions, he moved to coax Elliot to lie down on the couch. He affectionately pressed his lips to the other man's temple as he positioned him against one of the pillows.

And when he tried to stand up, he was as surprised as he had ever been in his life to have Elliot hold on to him and plead, "Please, don't go."

tbc…