Hello, lovelies. I have a nice long chapter for you today...Hope you like it!
7 DAYS UNTIL SEASON 17! I will be keeping this story in line with the current season...I hear Olivia becomes lieutenant. It does seem unlikely that Elliot will show up, so let's just imagine that he's living in Olivia's apartment and they're keeping it a secret :)
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Someone was crying. Noah. The world came rushing back to Elliot as he hauled himself to his feet, panicked. How long had he left Noah alone? He hobbled over to his room, wincing at a the lingering pain in his legs and back. Noah was standing in his crib, and tears were running down his face but his eyes were still mussed with sleep.
"I'm sorry, Noah," he sighed, picking him up. "I don't know what got into me. Are you hungry?"
"Pancakes," he insisted, drying his tears. Noah clung to Elliot, and he apologized again and again for leaving him alone as he went to make breakfast. He hadn't had any intention of sleeping, but the momentary peace that Olivia had given him must have coupled with his exhaustion and knocked him out. The few hours had been blessedly empty of dreams or fear; a relief from his own mind that had left him refreshed and invigorated. He was ready to start his day.
After his third meal of pancakes in only two days, Elliot and Noah settled down to play with some of his toys on the living room floor. He put on the radio as Noah crashed toy trucks into the floor, and found himself enjoying the current music. In a weird way, he was like a time traveler. He had simply skipped four years, and was now living in the future. It was a strange feeling, and listening to the top ten, it became a novel one as well.
"If only I could travel back in time," he muttered, sitting down beside Noah and tickling his belly.
"Pancakes," he giggled, a gleam in his eye. It was becoming his favorite joke.
Elliot nodded sagely, stroking an imaginary beard. "You are a wise toddler."
He was rewarded with a gale of happy laughter from Noah, and the next few hours passed easily as they played together. Around lunchtime, Carisi dropped off his old files, along with some extra clothes: standard issue N.Y.P.D. shirts and sweats.
"I thought you might need some extras," he offered nervously. "Seeing as you didn't exactly get the chance to pack."
"Wow," Elliot was taken aback by his thoughtfulness. "Thanks, Sonny. I appreciate it."
"Anytime," he said, a little relieved. "I've got to get back, but give me a call if you need anything." He handed him his card, ruffling Noah's hair as he headed out..
Elliot couldn't help but notice that the only member of S.V.U. who was being genuinely nice to him was also the only one who hadn't been there for Lewis. Shoving aside his mounting fears, he opened the first of many boxes, sneezing from the dust. Four years worth of dust, he thought, before getting irritated with himself. Enough with the melodrama, already! It had been four years. Get used to it.
Elliot quickly lost himself in old cases. He had put so many people away over the years. Here was a file for Anton Petrov, the man he and Olivia had busted for the trafficking of unborn babies. They had pretended to be a married couple who couldn't conceive; he smiled a little, remembering how easily it had come to them. Elliot glanced up at Noah, who was playing with the salt.
"What do you think, Noah? Petrov was pretty angry, huh? But he hated Jo more than me, and she's fine." Actually, he didn't know if his old partner and A.D.A. was fine. He realized that he had a lot of people he needed to call when he was sure it was safe.
"Pancakes," Noah offered.
"You are absolutely right, Noah. Pancakes did this." Elliot couldn't help but smile–he may have created a pancake monster, and he wasn't entirely sorry. Noah giggled in response, and Elliot looked back to his work.
Soon enough he realized that he could spend months going through all of his old files, and decided instead to turn his attention to everyone involved in Jenna's case. He hated Barba, but he had to start somewhere. Luke Ronson and Eddie Skinner were the two main guys there, but he didn't know that either of them had anything against him in particular. Who else had a connection to Jenna? He made a note to look into her surviving family and friends, but he felt doubtful that the case was really connected.
He had only gotten through a third of the first box by the time Olivia came home.
"How did it go with Kathy?" He asked as Noah grabbed his face.
She shook her head and took Noah from his arms, face lightening somewhat as he babbled excitedly, clearly happy to see her. "I'll tell you over dinner."
"Okay," he said, curiosity growing to distracting levels. "Um...Do you mind if I take a shower?" He was tired of being filthy, and now he had some actual clothes to change into.
"Of course not," she laughed. "Make yourself at home, El. Really."
"Alright," he said, trying to contain a smile as he headed into the bathroom. As he caught sight of himself in the mirror, he froze. The smile fell from his face; he was afraid to breathe, afraid to move. Elliot didn't recognize himself.
The man in front of him looked nothing like he did; he was terribly thin; his muscles had wasted away along with his padding, and he had shocking hollows under his eyes. He tried to smile, to make himself look less frightening, but it seemed wrong. He put a hand to his new beard, and resolved immediately to shave. He noticed to creases in his forehead and lines around his eyes, which were the only comforting thing about his appearance. His eyes were still stormy blue, and though they held fear, they were undeniably his. The same eyes he had had since he was a boy, even if they were a bit more haggard.
Focusing on the similarities, Elliot stepped into the shower and turned on the water, the hot spray blasting away weeks of accumulated grime. He had only been allowed to use dry shampoo in the hospital; they were afraid he would fall in the shower, and by the time he was well enough to walk on his own, cleanliness wasn't his first priority. This first real shower made him feel really and truly clean.
Turning off the water, Elliot wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped in front of the mirror again. Better, he thought, running a hand over his beard. Olivia had set out some toiletries for him; unopened razors and a toothbrush. His beard disappeared next, and he brushed his teeth just because he could. About to leave, Elliot noticed that his hair had become long and floppy. He quickly found a pair of scissors and hacked at it until he was satisfied. Looking over his appearance, he felt like a few good meals might get him back to his old self. His reflection still wasn't right, but it was closer to normal. Though he was...Elliot had to do the math. He was 49 now, and he couldn't expect to look the same. 49. Jesus. How had that never occurred to him before?
Shaking his head as he tried for the millionth time to dismiss his lost years, Elliot dressed quickly and stepped out of the steamy air feeling much better. And cleaner.
Olivia had changed out of her sharp work clothes and into an everyday T-shirt and maxi-skirt. Noah bounced happily on her hip, grabbing her oatmeal colored shirt. He couldn't help but smile as he looked at them. They were so happy just being together.
"You clean up nicely," she said with a smile.
"Thanks. I don't really think beards are my thing…" He smiled a little. "What's for dinner?"
"Eggs, bacon, and I used up your leftover pancake batter."
"Ah," he found himself grinning. "Noah, you're getting pancakes again."
The little guy giggled at him, shoving his fist in his mouth.
"He wouldn't stop talking about them," Olivia said with a little laughter in her voice. "I think they're his new favorite food."
Elliot held back laughter. It was such a simple thing, Noah and pancakes, but it made him absurdly happy. Olivia brought the food over to the table, and he promised himself that he would be the one to cook her dinner tomorrow.
"I figured you couldn't live on takeout forever."
He shrugged with a slight smirk. "We're both cops, Liv. You know that takeout, coffee, and a multivitamin are all you really need to live on."
"Don't forget the donuts." Elliot laughed; one of the reasons he loved being a cop was that he got to eat lots of donuts. For ironic purposes, of course.
"Donuts," Noah repeated, wide eyed.
"Uh-oh," Olivia said, a smile creeping onto her face. Elliot laughed nervously.
"Donuts," he repeated insistently. She covered her face, holding back laughter. Elliot shoved eggs into his mouth, trying to stay stoic.
"Donuts!" Noah shouted, and collapsed into laughter. They exchanged a glance, and suddenly it was too funny not to laugh alongside him. Elliot laughed until his belly hurt, which, given the state of his abs, didn't take too long. He clutched his stomach, which was going into spasms, but he couldn't stop. Olivia wiped her eyes, giggling weakly.
"Oh, Noah. I'll bring home some donuts tomorrow, okay?"
He made a sound like "Hee hee."
And then they were laughing again.
After a while of easy talk and laughter, Elliot found himself watching as Olivia sunk into her thoughts, serious again. His curiosity flared quickly to life inside of him as she got ready to talk about what had happened with his former wife. It was so strange thinking of her that way–they had been together for 25 years.
"So," she finally said. "Kathy."
He put down his fork immediately, giving her his full attention. "Kathy," he agreed.
She rested her chin on her hand, staring at the top of Noah's head. "Fin and I went to see her after lunch. She was...definitely surprised to see us. She thought that you were dead."
He would have choked if he had had food in his mouth. "Dead? Why?"
"I honestly don't know. It was almost like she was expecting it." He narrowed his eyes, confused. "She said, 'What else am I supposed to think, with you people showing up at my house after four years?'"
He sighed. "That sounds like her. It's actually...part of why we split up. After so many close calls, so many shoot-outs and hostage situations, she just started to feel like it was inevitable. The way she looked at me, I felt like a dead man walking around her…" He stopped, confused. Talking about his marital problems had always been off limits for them. But then, he was divorced now, wasn't he? He and Olivia didn't even work together anymore. He was here as a friend. The rules are different now.
"I know what she means. How many narrow escapes do we have in us?" She looked at Noah, eyes tainted with worry. "But, anyways, when we told her that you had been in a coma, she looked...And I don't know why, but she looked like she felt really guilty. She said that she could never figure out why you didn't visit your kids."
There was a lump in his throat. "Yeah."
"They want to see you. I gave them my home phone number, they said they would be calling some time tomorrow."
"Thank you," he breathed. He needed to hear their voices. "How are they?"
"They're all really glad that you're okay. They've gotten so big...They're all doing fine, but I'll let them be the ones to fill you in on everything."
"Okay." He could hardly imagined what had happened in their lives; four years was a lot longer for a kid than it was for an adult. "What else?"
"I asked her about the night you disappeared. She said that you were really upset about Jenna." She stroked Noah's hair absentmindedly.
"I was," he admitted. "She was just a kid."
She nodded. "It was a horrible case. Kathy said that when you got home, she told you that she had finally filed the divorce papers, and wanted you to move out as soon as possible. She said...that that made you angry."
"Yeah, it did. It was the house my kids grew up in. I had just shot and killed a victim, and I only wanted to get a night of rest before going into work the next day. I knew that I.A.B. would be all over my ass, and suddenly I was homeless on top of it all." He stopped, getting too worked up. "Sorry, keep going."
"You packed some things. Said you were going to stay with a friend, and would pick up the rest of your stuff later. You just...left."
Elliot felt his cheeks growing hot, and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. A friend...He had meant Olivia. He had been trying to hurt Kathy in the most juvenile way possible. "I remember that now."
"Okay...So, any idea who this friend might be?"
He looked up at her. "So I didn't come knocking down your door and yelling at the top of my lungs about how messed up everything was?"
She blinked, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She looked down at Noah, and bounced him on her knee. "Definitely not."
"Okay, so where does that leave us? I just drove out and the hospital found me in Brooklyn?"
"Pretty much. At least we know you weren't kidnapped." Her phone rang, and she picked it up. "Benson." He couldn't stop staring at it, this metal rectangle; didn't she used to have a normal flip phone? "Mmhm. Are you sure?" She put it down after a few minutes had passed, face ashen.
"What?" He asked, afraid. "Liv, what is it?"
She looked into his eyes for several long moments. "Some nurses recognized Kathy's picture. She was at the hospital. A week after you wound up there, she walked into your wing. Said she was lost."
He blinked, shocked, until the anger set in. "She saw me? She knew that I was there?" He couldn't believe it. "Why didn't she tell someone? She didn't think to tell my kids that I hadn't walked out on them, or you, or anyone?" His voice had risen to a shout, and Noah didn't like it. He pulled himself together. "I'm sorry, Noah," he sighed, smoothing his hair. "Don't cry, little guy. It's alright."
He stared at Olivia as a sickening horror replaced his rage. He felt like he had just been shot. "Kathy did this."
"Elliot," Olivia looked like he'd hit her. "I don't think Kathy would try to kill you."
"Maybe not, but she may as well have. Just–Liv, think how different things would have been if she had told you," he pleaded. "You spent all this time thinking that I had left you. That's all on her, Olivia. She did that."
Tears glimmered in her brown gaze as they stared at each other from across the table. Her face quickly transformed in fierce anger. "Damn. Damn it. Why would she do this? What gives her the right?"
"I think it was revenge," he admitted softly. She looked at him; what? "All those nights I was out with you. She stayed up waiting, not knowing where I was." He shook his head, venom lacing his heart. "She must have thought it was fitting."
"It wasn't my fault we were partners," she said immediately. "I never–I never did anything out of line. Did I?" Suddenly, she was unsure, caught between anger and concern.
He answered immediately. "No, Liv. Never. It was just her. But…"
"But what?"
Their eyes locked, and he had to look away from the intensity. "How would you feel if your husband spent all his time out with another woman? A very–beautiful–woman, whom he would take a bullet for without even thinking. Who always knew where he was, even when you–she–didn't?"
He couldn't meet her eyes, didn't want to see her reaction. He had never told her before that he thought she was beautiful. In one sentence, he had changed 12 years of partnership.
She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I can't say I would like it." There was an angry pause. "But I definitely wouldn't do this."
"Is there any chance she followed me out that night?"
Her eyes shot up. "It's possible, I guess, but..."
"She did think I was going to your apartment. Maybe I got there, maybe she lost it. Whacked me outside."
"If that's true, somebody might have heard. We should ask around the building. I don't want to believe it, but...After this, who knows? We've seen plenty of cases like it, after all." She hesitated for a split second before making up her mind. "Has she ever gotten violent with you?"
He blinked at her, remembering the time she had slapped him. "Yeah...Yeah, she has, but honestly, I don't blame her." It felt so strange admitting this to her. He kept crossing lines that had always felt permanent. There was something exhilarating about it. It made him want to get down on his knees and spill his guts.
Olivia swallowed, pushing her food around her plate. "Let's see if she has an alibi."
Elliot didn't know what to think. He was so angry at Kathy, but if it was her, the mother of his children would go to prison. "Alright. So what about Warren and the crime scene?"
"Melinda's bringing over a full report of your injuries tomorrow around noon. She'll examine your scar, too. As for the crime scene, C.S.U. went over it, but the trace evidence is probably all gone by now. Munch and Cragen didn't find any weapons, but they think that your head might have been smashed against the dumpster. Melinda will be able to confirm or deny that...They're still trying to piece together the attack, but we'll know more tomorrow."
Elliot winced, unconsciously putting a hand to his scar. The back of a dumpster. "If that's true, I doubt it was Kathy. She doesn't have the physical strength to get that kind of advantage on me."
Olivia nodded, hugging Noah close to her as she watched him. "Can I–Can I see your scar?"
He was taken aback. "Sure."
She place Noah carefully in his high chair and walked behind him. He thought again how she always smelled like coffee, probably because she drank so much. Her hands hovered around his head, unsure. He took one of them, and guided it to the two inches of strange flesh on his scalp. Her fingers found the spot, about an inch and a half above where his skull met his neck. As she parted his hair, he held his breath, chills racing along his spine at having her so close. He hoped she couldn't see the effect she was having on him. At last, her light touch disappeared, and she stepped away, looking at him with some anger.
"I'm sorry–" He said quickly, thinking he had made her uncomfortable.
"Why are you sorry? I just…" She took a breath, expression bitter. "I just hate that someone did this to you." She gestured at the scar. "You...you could have died, Elliot." Her voice broke, and she pursed her lips, examining his face as if to reassure herself that he was still there. He caught her hand in his, and pressed it to his lips for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut. He heard her let out a sigh as he moved it to his heart, reveling in the small warmth of the contact.
"Olivia," he said softly. He didn't have anything else to say, nothing to make it better. He had almost died. "I'm here now. And it'll take a hell of a lot more than a botched murder to make me leave again."
She smiled a wobbly smile, and he stood, pulling her into his arms as he had done only a few times over their years together. He felt Olivia relax into his embrace, letting out a breath as she rested her head against his shoulder. He pressed his cheek to the softness of her hair, and for a moment they just breathed together in their shared warmth. Eventually, she pulled back with a shaky breath and a smile, and squeezed his arm gratefully before turning back to Noah.
"It's past your bedtime, isn't it, Noah?" He was half-asleep, eyes opening and shutting drowsily. "Come on." She flashed Elliot a warm smile, and went to put him to bed.
His emotions felt like they were spinning out of control; he had been horribly confused, betrayed, angry, and sad, and now his knees felt like they might give out at any moment. He had held himself back from loving Olivia all these years, and he had never realized how important their boundaries were. One touch, and he couldn't stop thinking about more. He started putting dinner away, trying to refocus his thoughts on the case, going over what he knew. What would Warner have to say? He hoped that she would be able to tell him if he had defensive wounds. He wanted to believe that he had at least fought back.
Olivia came back in the room, sweeping his thoughts clean out of his mind. Sometimes he forgot how beautiful she was. And then she would walk into a room; the light would hit her just right, or she would smile a certain knowing smile; it took his breath away every time. She was truly intoxicating.
"Elliot," she reminded him. "Why are you staring?"
He shook his head, knowing that she didn't want to hear the way he felt around her right now. Like he had been hit over the head with a baseball bat, but in a good way.
"So," he said, trying to change the subject. "Why exactly did you move? I always thought you liked your old place."
"I did," she agreed. "Until it became a crime scene."
He blanched. "Oh," he said lamely. He was in her home. He fought to keep himself from losing it. He stared at the carpet, counting stitches.
"Elliot," she said. "I know that you have questions. And I know how hard it must be to not have the answers, but you've waited until I was ready. I appreciate that. And I think that you have a right to know. I'm tired of this distance between us, so...You can ask."
He stared at her, at her honest brown eyes and the strands of hair she had tucked nervously behind her ear. She had given him permission, and he was terrified of what he might learn. But he still had to know. If she had the courage to survive it, then he would have the courage to hear it.
"Thank you," he said quietly, grateful that she was ready to start trusting him. "I...I don't want to make you relive anything. But Liv, I have to know–what happened with Lewis?"
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Sorry for the cliffhanger! See you soon, and remember to review!
xoxo