Part Eleven
The sound seemed to echo, if only in her ears, due to the unnatural silence that surrounded her. For all his asking to see her, it appeared that Elliot didn't actually have anything to say to her.
But she'd been the one to stride in there, all strength and fearlessness, so she knew it was up to her to speak. "We found the key."
Whatever he'd expected, her words weren't among them. "What?"
"You have my key on your key ring. That's how you got in." She was proud of herself for keeping her voice strong and steady despite feeling anything but.
"Of course I have your key, but I never used it." He moved one leg, meaning to step forward, but he aborted the move when she tensed. "I would never invade your privacy like that, Liv."
She snorted. Her privacy wasn't exactly what she was worried about him invading. He'd tried to invade her body only the night before. "I changed my locks, Elliot. And you must have tried to get in and found that out and then stole my keys so you could make yourself a copy."
Once again, Elliot looked crushed. "No, no, Liv, I didn't. I would never do that." He almost seemed to collapse into the chair, looking every bit as awful as she'd felt all day. "I didn't even know you changed your locks."
And strangely, it made her feel better to know he was upset. "You did do it. You loaned me your car, Elliot. You must have thought I'd never guess that it was you."
He looked up at her, shaking his head. "It wasn't me. You have to believe that. You have to be careful. Somebody is out there, trying to hurt you, and he's making it look like it was me."
"Then how'd your wedding ring get in my sheets?" She put her hands on her hips, feeling certain she had a point he couldn't talk his way around.
"I haven't been wearing it. He must have stolen it."
"Who? Who the hell wants me to think it was you?" It seemed to her that someone was going to an awful lot of trouble to leave evidence behind to frame Elliot while leaving none in his wake to indicate himself.
He stood up again, stepping toward her, forgetting that her automatic response was to back away in fear. The action made him pause, leaving his voice to sound defeated when he spoke. "Who bought the flowers? Cause it wasn't me."
"You had someone else buy them."
"And made sure he gave my name? Come on, Liv, don't be stupid."
He had a point, the thing with the roses didn't make any sense, but she didn't appreciate him calling her stupid either. She decided he was just trying to play a game with her, trying to get her so confused she'd believe him. She wasn't about to let him win. "You left something else in your car, something you stole from my bedroom. Remember?"
His eyes narrowed, surprised that she wasn't buying his shit. "I didn't steal anything from you and I've never been in your bedroom."
The tense, angry sound of his voice reminded her of the attack, when his hands had conveyed the message rather than his voice, when he'd struck her and pulled at her clothes. Determined not to cry again, at least, not in front of him, she forced the terrifying images from her mind, pushing them down and away.
Instead she focused on the thong, the violation still palpable, yet in an entirely different way. She grabbed the back of one of the chairs with both hands, making them as still as she could so he wouldn't know how scared she was. "Remember the underwear you stole off my bed? I found them under the seat of your car, caked with –" Best intentions aside, the words choked her. One of her hands released the chair, moving up to cover her mouth as she let out a sob.
"Liv, I didn't- I wouldn't-" He moved forward again, coming to her side, reaching for her. His eyes were wet, tears spilling forth.
She yelped and jerked away, pushing the chair between them. She didn't want to feel his hands on her again. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of touching her. Not again. Never again.
He raised his hands, holding his palms open to her as if to convince her he wasn't a threat, backing away slowly. His face was contorted, hurt and scared and angry. But yet, relieved. She didn't know why and she didn't like it.
"Olivia, test my DNA. I promise you it's not going to match. I would never hurt you, Liv. You know that. You have to remember that."
The words hurt. Not just because he was lying to her again, swearing to a lie. But because he had to know how she would have reacted to finding her panties like that, knowing what he'd done with them. He had to know she wouldn't have been able to stand there objectively and bag them as evidence.
His face slowly lit up in a smile, his whole body relaxing. "Jesus, I wish you'd said something. Cragen's getting the needle ready for me. You have DNA on the fucker, Liv." He stopped to look in her eyes, to hold her stunned gaze. "We've got him now. You'll be ok. I can protect you and we'll find that son of a bitch."
She was choking again, the lump in her throat keeping words from forming, keeping thoughts from forming. He was so happy, so sure, so at ease. He couldn't possibly be that sure she'd tossed the evidence. And she'd never known him to be that good of a liar, not with all that Catholic guilt. But she couldn't let his words make sense. She couldn't let him be honest. Because then she'd thrown away the evidence that would have absolved him.
She started shaking her head, denying his words, denying his belief.
"Liv, what? What's wrong?" He tried stepping forward again, but she was already moving toward the door.
"No. No, I can't."
"Olivia, can't what? You have evidence that will clear me, you have to turn it over!" His joy morphed back into anger, his words growing louder.
She kept shaking her head, trying to get the words out. "No. There's no evidence. I don't know what you're talking about." She pulled open the door, finding Cragen and Munch on the other side, terrified that they'd heard the conversation.
But they seemed to only be interested in her distress, telling her that everything was ok, that they were arresting Elliot, that he wouldn't get another chance to hurt her.
The fog was closing in around her again as she walked to her desk, hearing Munch's voice reciting the Miranda rights to Elliot long after she was out of earshot. She felt like rubber again, shaky and unstable and weak. With nothing else to do, put her head down on her desk, unable to watch when Munch and Cragen walked Elliot past her in handcuffs.
She couldn't move, didn't move, not even when he called her name.
She couldn't move, didn't move, not even when he called out a warning that she wasn't safe.
She wasn't sure, but it kind of sounded like a threat.
Pure exhaustion drove her to pass out right at her desk. She awoke to a gentle shaking that was just irritating enough for her to push it away. But then it returned and somewhere in the back of her head she recognized her name. Her eyes blinked open, seeing a hand on her shoulder.
A flash of panic had her upright and hyperventilating a moment later.
But there was no one attacking her, no one trying to hurt her. There was only Fin, clearly bothered for having disturbed her.
"Hey, Liv, I just thought you might want to go lay down in the crib." He shrugged, looking for words to say and she knew there weren't any that he would ever think of that would make her feel better. "Or I could give you a lift home, if you'd rather."
Elliot was in lock-up for the night, so home was safe. But she was too tired to deal with going there. And she feared that the trip, and the small talk she'd have to make on the way, would leave her too wide awake to go back to sleep. So she shook her head, standing slowly, testing to make sure her legs were working.
"I'll go upstairs."
"Here, take these. You might need them." Fin's hand was offering her the crackers she'd spent the day pushing around on her desk.
Surprisingly, she started to think she was hungry. Or maybe she would be in the future. She accepted them and offered him a small smile in return. "Thanks."
Morning surprised her as well, arriving much sooner than she'd anticipated. In fact, by the time she dragged her watch in front of her eyes, she realized arraignments had already been underway for nearly an hour. She raced to the courthouse, munching through the rest of the crackers and wishing for something more substantial. She didn't have the time to waste to grab something. She wanted to be there for his arraignment, although she wasn't sure why. There wasn't much point in it and she would be able to get any important information from a hundred other sources if she missed it. But there was some part of her that was determined to be there, to endure it, to sit through every minute of his trial, so that she could say she'd acted as his partner every single moment, right up until the verdict was handed down. The verdict, which she already knew would be guilty, would serve to sever the last tie. It would be the official end of his career, since he was technically only suspended pending the outcome. It would also be the official end of their partnership, a jury's announcement seeming somehow more formal and final than her own assessment that they were no longer partners.
When she pushed through the heavy doors, he'd already been called. The lawyers were in the midst of a battle, too busy to hear the noise of a person quietly slipping into the last row. Elliot wasn't though, and while his face looked haggard and far older than it had only a few hours before, he was glad to see her.
She turned away, figuring he was buying his own press about her not being safe without him. Her ears picked up the discussion being heard by Judge Petrovsky, one that sounded so familiar, so much like so many others while at the same time sounding so very different.
Carlisle was speaking, her hair pinned up perfectly, her blue suit replaced by an equally expensive black one. "Request ROR, your honor."
Greyleck practically laughed, her arms swinging out in a sweeping gesture. "Your honor, the defendant attacked his partner of eleven years. If she's not safe around him, no one is! The people request remand, for everyone's sake. We can't let dangerous criminals out to roam the street!"
Petrovsky wasn't a fan of antics and offered Greyleck a stiff frown. "This is a courtroom, Ms. Greyleck, not a soap box."
Carlisle, for all of her attitude the previous evening, was standing perfectly still, her hands clasped in front of her. "Your honor, Detective Stabler is a decorated police officer, accused unjustly. He has five children, one of whom is barely a year old. He needs to be available to care for them. He's not a flight risk."
Petrovsky wasn't a fan of Carlisle either, apparently, or perhaps she was simply having a bad day. Either way, she fixed the lawyer with a stern glare. "I assume these children have a mother capable of caring for them?"
Greyleck jumped back in. "A mother the defendant is in the process of divorcing. She's hardly a reason for him to stay for trial."
Carlisle wasn't about to be thwarted, changing tactics without missing a beat. "My client needs to be able to assist in his own defense, something he cannot do behind bars. Detective Stabler expects to be vindicated at his trial. He has no reason to run."
Greyleck scowled. "The defendant won't have a trial if he's free to harass his victim into silence."
Petrovsky held up her hand, indicating that she wasn't interested in hearing the two women go back and forth all day. "The defendant will surrender his passport to the court."
"Your honor, the defendant has multiple personal firearms." Greyleck was doing a good job of scaring the shit out of Olivia, already having her half convinced that Elliot was going to come after her, guns blazing.
"The defendant will surrender his firearms to the court as well and is hereby released on his own recognizance." Petrovsky raised the gavel.
Again, Greyleck interrupted. "The people would like an order of protection. Detective Benson should not be subjected to further harassment."
"The defendant is ordered to stay five hundred feet from Detective Benson, her home, and workplace." With a glare, Petrovsky finally turned from the lawyers to stare at Elliot. "You will leave her alone or you will be confined for the duration of your trial, is that understood?"
But Elliot wasn't looking at her. Elliot was staring at Olivia.
She stood up to leave, having heard everything she needed to hear. He was going to be free until his trial. Free to torture her all he wanted; she'd yet to see an effective restraining order.
"Olivia, wait!" He sounded absolutely panicked.
The gavel swung down twice, three times. "Mr. Stabler," Petrovsky admonished, "you will stay away from Detective Benson. You are to have no contact with her, is that clear?"
Olivia was frozen, wondering what he was going to do, thinking he was possibly crazy enough to defy the judge right there in the courtroom.
Carlisle's leg moved to the left, kicking Elliot's ankle with the heel of her pump, dragging his attention back to the judge. Finally, he nodded, turning once again to stare as Olivia shoved through the doors.
Olivia returned to the precinct, unhappily pretending not to notice all the heads turned her way. After being processed and arraigned, Elliot's name and crime were all over the place. As his partner, she would have been subjected to the same number of stares, but as his victim, she knew they were more intense, more critical. Cops stuck together. And when one was accused of a crime, the general train of thought was "innocent until railroaded by a prosecutor." And though she too was a cop, with the same blue blood, she was the accuser, and therefore not a member of the crew any longer. Determined to ignore them, she ducked into the captain's office for a break.
He nodded at her. "Greyleck told me he's out."
Olivia nodded. "Not really much of a surprise. He's not exactly a career criminal."
Cragen's eyes moved over a pile of papers on his desk. "IAB's probably going to want to interview you at some point. They were all over me before the sun came up."
"I'll be here." There was no point in dodging them. She didn't have anywhere else to go anyway.
Cragen winced and looked back at her. "About that."
"Please don't send me home, cap." Her eyes pleaded with him for several seconds after her words stopped. "I can't sit there and stare at the walls. I'll go insane."
"IAB's already up my ass. I can't have you out in the field, Olivia." Even as he argued, he sighed and waved his hands in the air. "You're riding a desk for a week, then we'll talk."
Olivia nodded, knowing better than to push it. It was instinct to claim that she was perfectly fine, but she knew she had no business working like she normally did. Hell, half of her was still waiting to wake up from the nightmare. She stood up and headed for her desk, pausing at the door to look back at her boss. "Thanks. Really." Without Elliot in the picture, he was the next closest person in the world to her. Trying to push the disturbing concept from her mind, she sat down and started shuffling some papers.
By the end of the day, Olivia was actually ready to get out of the precinct. Not necessarily to go home, but definitely in the mood for a change of scenery. She bade good night to the few people who weren't whispering behind her back and snuck out the back door of the station, in an effort to avoid everyone. The detail Cragen had informed her of at lunchtime caught up with her a block later. Any other time she'd been tailed, even if it had been for her own protection, she hadn't liked it one bit. But she was so tense, so convinced, thanks to Greyleck, that Elliot was going to show up at any moment and attack her, that she didn't mind so much. And she knew, due to the fuzzy, disjointed way everything felt that she didn't stand much of a chance of defending herself.
When she reached the front steps of her building, she saw the outline of a person waiting at the door. Her heart started to pound, regardless of the fact that a couple hundred people shared that stoop and that the form was half the size of Elliot. She had her hand on her gun, ready to pull it anyway.
The woman turned, coming down the steps to meet her. "Olivia, can I talk to you?"
She backed up a step, seeing the detail out of the corner of her eye, knowing one of them was climbing out of the car. Her eyes turned to Kathy and she shook her head. "This is a very bad idea."
Kathy took another step toward her. "Please, Olivia?"
She gestured that all was well to the man who was already halfway between her and his car. "What, Kathy?"
Her face screwed up, telegraphing her words before they left her mouth. "He wouldn't hurt you. You know he couldn't do this. You know Elliot, probably better than I do."
"I thought I knew him, but apparently not." She looked away, refusing to see Kathy's desperation.
The blonde moved, trying to catch Olivia's eye. "He's scared."
"He should be. He's going to prison." She glanced at Kathy, wishing she didn't feel so damn guilty. "And if you help him violate a restraining order, you might be joining him."
Her eyes widened for a moment. "Olivia, please. Listen to me. He's really afraid for you. You're in danger."
"Stop!" She held up her hands, trying to step around Kathy. "That's a threat, Kathy, and if you're passing it on from Elliot, I will have those two in that car drag your ass off." She had no desire to throw Kathy in jail; she didn't think the petite woman would survive there for ten seconds. But she didn't want to have Elliot's wife issuing second-hand threats on her front steps for the rest of time.
"It wasn't him, Olivia. He swore on the lives of our children that it wasn't him. I believe him."
Olivia stopped on the second step, turning back to the woman who truly didn't seem to understand that she didn't know who Elliot really was either. "Kathy, I found his wedding ring in my bed, in my sheets. How the hell do you think it got there? Because I sure as hell can't explain it any other way!"
Kathy's eyes lowered as she shrugged. "I don't know. He told me he wasn't wearing it. I already told you he left me for another woman, Olivia, why would he still be wearing his wedding ring?"
Olivia motioned at Kathy's left hand, at the shining gold band around her third finger. "You're still wearing yours."
Kathy's shoulders drooped, her chin trembling. "I still love him."
With tears in her eyes, Olivia turned away, unable to admit, or acknowledge, that she suspected she had the same problem.
"Olivia, please!"
At the top step, she pulled open the door, stopping to glance down at Kathy. "I'm sorry this happened, but there's nothing I can do to stop it. I didn't start it. I didn't ask for it."
"He's not threatening you, Olivia, and I won't bother you again, but please, please, just be careful. He just wants you to be safe and if I didn't believe that I wouldn't have come here." Kathy was clinging to the wrought iron handrail, squeezing it until her hands were white.
"Don't come back here, Kathy." She met the Kathy's stare, unblinking, until the other woman finally walked away. Shivering from more than just the ice cold air, Olivia hurried up into the building.