With the help of Elliot and Brian, Olivia was able to return to her apartment the very next morning. It'd been a rocky night, but she got through it. She always got through it. It was going to take much more to keep her down, despite what the others thought. Accompanied by a police escort, the three adults rode together in a black town car, unmarked, of course. Halfway through the trek, Olivia started to get carsick, but she didn't let on. She just wanted to get home.
"What time do they need me?" she asked dully, knowing full well IAB wouldn't let her rest for anything. Brian's coat was draped her shoulders like a shawl, a protective shell. If only it really worked like that.
Cassidy sat on one side of Olivia, while Elliot sat on the other. "Whenever you feel up to it," Brian replied.
"Translation, ASAP," Benson mused. They passed tall buildings and short stores, street venders and vagabonds, businessmen and single parents. The streets of New York City were swarming with people going about their daily lives, all of them under the spell of the Big Apple, none of them realizing that there was more to life than their own schedules. Two days ago, Olivia was one of those people. She was roaming the sidewalks with her badge and gun, subconsciously on the lookout for potential predators, nursing a black coffee. And now… now she wasn't.
"You don't have to do it, Liv," Elliot remarked, his gaze penetrating through the thick glass of the window. "You could make those bastards wait like they should be doing anyway."
"And have them track me to my place? I don't think so. No, they want a statement, they'll get a statement," Olivia declared. "I'm not running from this."
Proud of his girlfriend's decision, Brian moved to put his hand on her knee; Olivia pulled away at the last second. She crossed her legs and looked out of the same window as Elliot. And for Brian, it did feel like old times again; it felt like it was the Olivia and Elliot show. Never one to be particularly empathetic, it wasn't a surprise to Olivia that Brian was pouting. His body went rigid next to her and he shoved his hands in his coat pockets. It was going to be a long ride.
"For the record, please state your name," Ed Tucker requested evenly, his pleated charcoal suit and red tie objects of Olivia's scorn. He and Sergeant Draper were less than a foot apart, both of them staring at the tired woman, a woman who they'd encountered several times before.
Olivia had washed up and put on her normal work clothes at the apartment. Elliot promised he'd be staying through the weekend and left her in the care of Brian, regardless of the current state of their relationship. Stabler had get a clean shirt on, but he swore he'd see Olivia after the meeting. With her short hair curled and makeup on to cover her puffy eyes, the former captain answered boldly. "Sergeant Olivia Benson, former captain of the Special Victims Unit."
The tape recorder at the corner of the table— the same type of metal table Benson had been plastered to 24 hours before— rolled as it picked up words and sounds. The balding man opened a case file and pushed it in Olivia's line of view. "Detective Benson, can you tell me who this man is?"
Olivia responded without missing a beat. "William Lewis."
"Are you sure?" Tucker grumbled. "It's hard to tell if you're not looking at the picture."
Begrudgingly so, Olivia tilted her head slightly until she caught a glimpse of the man. "That's William Lewis," she repeated. "Convicted kidnapper and serial rapist." His name on the tip of her tongue tasted like venom, a deadly poison she couldn't recover from, even with an antidote.
"And how do you know Mr. Lewis?" Before Olivia could speak, Tucker added, "Remember, you're under oath."
The comfort of being in her own precinct did not outweigh her sorrow and trauma of this entire ordeal. Everything was so fresh, so vivid in her memory. The dust hadn't a chance to settle. Olivia struggled with the next part. "I was a detective on a case last year and he was the main suspect."
"Go on," Tucker goaded.
Closing her eyes, the only woman in the room moved her lips deliberately. "He was tried in a court of law, but ultimately was set free. Afterwards, he… he broke into my apartment and… he kidnapped and tortured me."
Tucker and Draper shared a moment of consultation, during which Olivia shuddered slightly. That wasn't even the hardest part. Everyone knew that: the press, the entire precinct, probably most of the city. It was common knowledge. Folding his hands on the desk, Tucker tried to regain Olivia's attention. "Detective, do you know why you're here?"
"I bet you'll tell me anyway," Benson chided.
Straightening his tie, Tucker leaned back in his chair. Barely five minutes in and Benson was already declaring war. "William Lewis was found dead by a gunshot wound to his left temple. The gun that was recovered had two sets of prints: his and yours. Can you explain why that is?"
"Russian Roulette."
"I'm sorry?"
Olivia locked eye contact with the men and echoed her previous statement with more force. "Russian Roulette. Lewis had the idea to play. He passed the pistol back between the two of us until there was one round left. When it got to the sixth, he used it on himself."
From outside of the windowless cell, the part of the unit— past and present— was standing by and watching through the one-way glass. Rollins and Finn were away on another case— no rest for the weary, though they assured their coworkers they'd be back by early afternoon. However, the rest of the guys were all hanging around the small space. The only calm one was Elliot. Amaro and Cassidy were going stir crazy, which wasn't being helped by the caffeine in their coffees.
"This is all bullshit," Nick growled under his breath. "The least likely to kill the guy out of all of us is being under a microscope for no reason."
"She admitted to lying on the stand, Amaro, what'd you expect? You know IAB, they're gonna crack down extra hard because of it," Brian countered. It was as if he'd forgotten his own role to play in the organization— he separated himself from them.
"So what— are you saying she brought this on herself?" Nick demanded. "She didn't have a choice."
Cassidy rubbed his shaved scalp and pinched the bridge of his nose. For a man in an expensive shirt and designer tie, he couldn't look any more unprofessional. In a way, it seemed rather wrong to have the three guys with the shortest fuse all in one room together. They were bound to rip each other's throats out at some point. "We always have a choice," Brian grumbled.
"Geez, when'd you get so cynical, Cas? Last I checked, you were a risk taker," Elliot piped, the anchor on his forearm never looked more foreboding than when flexed.
"Last time you checked was 14 years ago," Brian said bitterly. "A lot's changed, 'El.'" Turning back around, he went on with glaring intently at Olivia, wishing he could hear what she was telling them; rules mandated that the speaker be turned off during these types of interviews. He'd been on both ends of the game before, he knew how it went. Internal affairs grill the cops, the cops fight their instincts and keep cool, but somehow, it always ends up messy. Olivia looked ok, though. She was holding her own. Of course, she was showing signs of distress, but she was handling it. She wasn't letting Tucker pierce her thick skin.
As the men impatiently awaited the end, Elliot couldn't help but become overwhelmed with the decades of memories this place had given him. Just like always, the holding cell was completely packed; half of the perps in business clothing, the other half dressed like… the other half. Phones were wailing through the squad room and cops of all ranks were working together on cases, huddled over a small desk. He could even see his old table, right across from Olivia's. Well, now it was Amaro's. But, he remembered where the pictures of his family had been and where he kept his hidden rosary. It was all still clear as day to Stabler.
Amidst Elliot's nostalgia trip, Benson emerged from the interrogation room looking less than thrilled. She had her arms folded over her chest defensively, wishing she'd had her gun for show, to intimidate Tucker. "Thanks boys. We really should do this more often," she snarked as they appeared after her.
With her folder under in his armpit, Tucker raised one eyebrow and directed his comments solely to Olivia. "I'd be very careful about my next move if I were you, Detective. With so many people watching you, you wouldn't want to give the wrong impression, would you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Amaro snarled from his spot on the wall. "You threatenin' hah?"
Totally overlooking the man's pathetic intervention, Tucker held his hand out to further perpetuate the facade of a cooperative investigation. "Have a good day, Detective Benson."
Because of the eyes that were glued to her, Olivia had no other choice but to comply. She shook Tucker's calloused hand and held back the ear-splitting scream she felt in her throat. She did not, however, say anything. She didn't want everything thinking she could be bullied so easily. In reality, of course, not a single person thought that.
As Tucker and Draper left, Elliot shifted an inch and brushed shoulders with Tucker. "Sorry," he lied without looking at the man.
Draper continued out of the station, but Tucker hung back. "You know, you not being a cop anymore makes things a lot easier," he whispered in Stabler's ear.
"Look at that, we actually agree on something," Elliot shot back. "Two officers gettin' into a fight i'nt exactly a pretty headline, is it?" With a sly smirk, Stabler waved as the other guy sauntered out of the squad room and away from all of them. There was just something about those people— their absolute lack of empathy and understanding. If he didn't know any better, Elliot could have sworn that he'd seen that same look in Cassidy's eyes.
"You ok?" Elliot heard Brian ask. The younger man reached for Olivia's elbow, but even that was too much for her; she shrugged away and fixed her hair to play it off. No one was fooled, though. Not even Amaro. "You wanna get out of here?" Cassidy pushed. If anything, he was pushing his luck, that was for sure.
Olivia shook her head politely and glanced around at the busy station with everyone running around like chickens with their heads cut off. And then she remembered that there was nothing she could do; she was on mandatory leave. She looked at each of the men around her, slowed when she saw Elliot, and sighed heavily. He had that familiar crease to his forehead, the one that made her think he could read her mind. There were times in the past when she believed he had, and vice versa.
"Lunch is on me, Liv," Elliot winked friendlily.
"Yeah, all right. Sure," Benson conceded. "Let's go."
Because Amaro was the only one left, he had to hang back and wait for Murphy to show up. He wasn't particularly thrilled at the idea of not being there to protect his partner, though on some level, he knew she didn't need it. Olivia had never needed anyone to protect her; she protected herself. Which, truthfully, was the biggest reason she was pulling away from Cassidy. After all the time that they'd known each other, Brian still didn't get it.
The entire trek down the three blocks was nothing but Cassidy guarding Olivia, shielding her from newsstands and nosy civilians. Meanwhile, Elliot strayed behind a couple of feet and watched as Brian dug himself a deeper hole. Yes, Stabler was guilty of doing the same thing in the past— not because he believed Olivia to be incompetent, but because he cared so much about her. However, unlike Brian, Elliot quickly learned his lesson and took a step back.
"Cas, there's a gum wrapper rolling towards Liv. You might wanna grab it before it gets to her," Stabler jested. Brian didn't find it so funny. In fact, he rotated his body so quickly, anyone would have thought he was about to punch the other man in the jaw.
"Brian, don't," Olivia requested dryly, never turning to look at him. She shuffled down the cement with her hands in her trench coat pockets, the buttons buttoned, and the ties tied. She felt more secure in her own jacket than she did in her own apartment.
His fists clenched at his sides, Cassidy hissed under his breath and let it slide. His gravelly voice sounded like sheets of sand paper rubbing against one another. "Where the hell are we going?"
"We're here," Elliot stated flatly, unamused by Brian's apparent immaturity. The former officer lead Olivia and her boyfriend up to a hotdog vendor at the corner. He wasn't sure if he would still be there after all these years, but Elliot was pleasantly surprised to find his pal Kenny behind the metal cart. "Miss me?" Stabler smirked the moment Kenny craned his neck.
"Detective Stabler!" the gray-haired man with a mustache exclaimed. He and Elliot exchanged a strong shake and he tilted his Yankees hat to Olivia and Brian. The sun from above reflected off of his balding head and his formerly white apron was now the color of Pepsi. Several inches shorter than Elliot, Kenny looked to be in his 60's, no wedding ring, with a gold cross necklace. "Where'd you run off to? You just disappeared on us."
"Duty called," Elliot fibbed. He and Kenny went back about 10 years. Stabler was hungry one day and he stopped for a bite to eat. Kenny's son was a cop and he asked if Elliot knew him. A week later, the headlines announced Kenny Jr.'s death. Since then, Elliot went to the man for a hot dog at least every Tuesday and Thursday. And, when he left, he didn't have the heart to explain why. He didn't want to disappoint the father of a fallen officer. "Important thing is, I'm back now. And I've got hungry friends."
Kenny's brown eyes sprang even wider as an excited smile spread across his lips. "Why didn't you say somethin,' huh? Come on. It's on the house."
Falling back just enough to line up with Olivia, Elliot watched Kenny's devout concentration as he slid one hot dog into one bun and so on and so forth. "You never told me about this place," Olivia mused.
Elliot just shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal of it. "Remember that nasty bug you had in '07? I brought you soup and a dog for myself. You wanted a bite so you took one and said it was the best hot dog you'd ever had."
"This is where you got it?" Benson observed.
"This is where I got it," her former partner confirmed. They spoke in hushed tones so as not to anger Cassidy even more, but it was no use. Brian was biting down on his tongue as he listened to the conversation between Olivia and Elliot, silently resenting Stabler for his presence. Not even the chilly breeze was enough to distract him from seething.
"Three of the best for the best," Kenny declared proudly as he passed around the trio's lunch. Relish, onions, ketchup, and mustard was spread across the six-inch franks, all just waiting to be demolished. Kenny waited eagerly to hear his customer's reactions, a braid-toothed grin stretching from ear to ear. After three decades in this business, nothing gave him more satisfaction than seeing happy customers.
"Never better," Elliot complimented once he finished chewing.
"It's great. Thank you," Olivia smiled mildly at the owner.
Elliot tried to discreetly slip some money under the napkin holder, but Kenny pushed his hand away. "I told you, don't worry 'bout it." He and his old friend engaged in a staring contest, one that the experienced business man eventually won— or so he thought. As soon as he let down his guard, Elliot stuffed the crisp bills by the ketchup and mustard jars.
Olivia had just elbowed Brian's side to get him to say something when her phone buzzed. "Benson," she answered brusquely. "Nick, hold on, what? Ok, I'm on my way." Olivia slipped her device back into her pocket and answered the men's curious looks. "Murphy's back," she explained curtly. "He's got some news."
A/N - I forgot that I had this written! Well, most of it! I had some free time yesterday and I got to finish the chapter. I just proof-read it, but I'm between homework, so please forgive any typos. They weren't lying when they said we'd be busy- this program is intense! I'll do my best to update next week, but we'll see. Thanks for the reviews/follows/favorites!