A/N I have always wanted to write a cheating fic. Call me sinister! But I am excited to explore writing much differently than my other fics. The chatter on the timeline about the missed opportunity having K*thy think Noah was Elliot's son really inspired this.
I hope you enjoy ?
It's a weird silence that surrounds you when you experience heartbreak. When tragedy strikes and suddenly the world goes black without a warning. It's just tunnel vision into nothingness with just the ringing of the gut wrenching news.
Except in this case the news should have opened your eyes to this new world waiting ahead. A world where gurgles and cries were the highlight of your day. The one where buying diapers a size up broke your heart because your little one was growing up so fast. One of the ones where your sweet boy looks up at you with those deep blues, a reflection of his daddy's, and says mama to you for the first time. And you try not to cry because you don't want him upset that you're upset.
The days are hard but never long enough. There's never enough time to keep up with all the changes he's making. You're only gone for eight or so hours a day and it's still too much time away from him. You know it would be easier with another set of hands around to help raise him. Those same set of hands that held you on some of the darkest nights of your life. The same ones that were there to caress your skin and make you feel whole after an endless case.
It could have been easier if you had just told him that day you found out but you can't. Because this news- this news is one of the most earth shattering things you've gotten in your life. You're pregnant, finally at the age of 45. And you think it's a fucking miracle any test has even come back positive at that. You want to be happy but it's almost impossible because the person you've created this life with is gone. He's disappeared into the abyss and you have not a damn clue where he's gone. The number has changed. His house is empty and the wife is gone too.
Yeah, the wife you've been sneaking around the last two years so that you can fuck her husband.
She's gone and so is their young son. Every piece of them is erased from this godforsaken city and you think this is what you deserve. What should be the happiest news of your life becomes the hardest to accept and move on with because the man you love is gone.
And he's never coming back.
It takes weeks of denial until your pants don't fit anymore and you sleep all the time. It's getting harder to do this on your own as the months pass by, but you decide you have to for your baby. You go to the appointments alone even though Fin insists on going with you. Amanda too, but you don't think you can do this with anyone around just yet. You're still grieving the loss of your best friend, your soulmate, while the better half of you both grow inside your womb.
It's the middle of the day one time and you finally feel the little flutters your pregnancy app tells you about. And at first you think it's just gas but you feel them over and over again until your 23rd week. You feel what might be a foot take a jab at you and it makes you cry right there in the middle of your kitchen. He should be here to feel this. One hand covered by yours while you guide him to each movement.
Your 24th week comes and you find out it's a boy. Technology could have told you sooner but you wanted to wait. Because you knew if it was a boy a part of you would find yourself struggling even more.
The sonogram technician cheers when she confirms it is a boy but quickly quiets when she notices you crying. She doesn't ask questions, just comforts you until the tears finally cease.
You take your photo of your baby home and hang it on the fridge. The black and white picture shows the perfect profile of your baby's face. You think maybe he has your nose but there's no mistaking he's got his dad's head. It makes you laugh.
In the blink of an eye it's the end of your third trimester. Your baby boy is kicking like crazy and his foot takes jabs at your bladder all day. You think it's your tenth time running to the bathroom by lunch. Dressing up for work is quickly thrown out the window and your squad is just happy you made it to work. Your hormones have got you all over the place. One moment you're crying because you need a pint of ice cream stat, and the next moment you're crying because you've convinced yourself you're totally gonna fuck this kid up.
But then in the middle of the work day during your 39th week those Braxton hicks you were having turned into full fledged contractions. You tough it out for a little bit despite Fins panic until you feel a trickle of liquid trail down your legs. Your water has broken in the middle of your goddamn office.
Fin turns on the lights and sirens the whole way to the hospital and you grip onto the dashboard with each scream you let out. You were told it would hurt pretty bad but you never thought this fucking bad. You wanted to try and tough it out and do it the "natural" way but suddenly an epidural sounds amazing. Except when you get to the hospital there's no time. This baby is coming.
You never asked Fin to be there in the room but he just assumed since the identity of the baby's father was still unknown to everyone else. And it was pretty clear he would have no involvement. So Fin stepped in and he's green in the face but he holds it together for you.
The doctor barely makes it into the room before you have no choice but to push this baby out of you. He's coming whether you're ready or not. The pain hurts so bad and you're not sure you can do this but Fin steps up and tells you you can. He holds your hand even though you're squeezing the life out of it. Your face is reddened and covered in a sheen of sweat but you're gonna meet your baby boy today. And that gives you enough strength to give one more big push before the cries of your miracle fill the room.
The tears are flooding and the seven pounds and 8 ounces of flesh you created is on your chest. He cried for just a moment longer until the warmth of your skin calms him along with the same heartbeat he's heard for the past nine months. You check for ten fingers and ten toes and he's absolutely perfect.
You kiss his sweet face and get a glimpse of those eyes for just a second before they're closed again.
Blue.
And you start to think that maybe the world could do with another Stabler.
April 2021
The night starts off with dread but you tough it out because you've got an award to accept. And despite the politics that have come into play, they decide you deserve the award anyway. It makes your stomach churn a bit at the thought. There have been moments the job has made you question your morality, but this time around it has you question everything. You've accused the wrong man of a crime and it only gets worse when he not only sued you and the NYPD, but then your nine year old son asks if you are a racist. Not only that but he pulls up the viral video of you doing the wrong arrest too.
You stayed strong when the blow of your son's question hit you like a fucking grenade. You find yourself struggling not to snap at him because he should know you. But you remember he's only nine and critical thinking only runs so deep. He's a curious boy who truly just wants to know. It's hard to answer, and not because you are but it's having to explain to your sweet sweet boy that you're not.
"Come on, Noah. You know that I'm not," you remember saying to him. Almost having to convince him. It shattered you that night.
Now it's months later, and you're being honored with an award by the NYPD while simultaneously being a part of the reason they are getting sued. It feels ridiculous as you zip up your dress and slide your feet into your heels. But you push on. You've got your speech prepared that pulls on the heart strings just enough to keep the bosses happy. And maybe it will make up for your plan to leave early. Sometimes being a mother with a sitter on the clock isn't enough.
"Be good for Lucy. I love you, Noah," you kiss your son goodnight and tuck him in even though he's getting a little too old for that. But he still lets you and you plan on doing it every night until he's had enough.
Purposefully, you don't put on your lipstick yet so you can kiss his forehead, his cheeks, and his perfect nose without leaving a mark. It still makes him giggle a little when you do so and the sound brings you joy. You make sure eddy the elephant is close by and his nightlight is on before shutting off the lights and cracking the door.
….
The drive to the award ceremony is quickly detoured when you're called to a scene by request. And you argue that it's not necessary for you to be there. A car that's been blown to pieces has nothing to do with Special Victims. Nothing to do with you until they mention who has requested you to be there and who the victim is.
You asked three times if they meant who they said it was, and you can tell the operator on the other end is quickly becoming annoyed with you. But you just needed to make sure that you heard that name correctly before you completely lose it.
The call ends and you flip your lights and sirens on to make the 20 minute trip less than 10. Your hearts racing like crazy you're almost positive you'll be next on a stretcher if you don't reign it in. You let Fin know you'll be a little late to the award ceremony, even though you know a little late was an understatement.
You see the red and blue flashing the same as yours ahead. The adrenaline pumps through you and doesn't let you think twice once you park the SUV. Your black pumps hit the ground. It's only so many strides until you flash your badge to be let under the yellow tape and you feel him there. The presence is so strong after all these years you feel the warmth of your skin rise up your body. It's like a sixth sense you haven't been able to rid yourself of and you don't think you ever will be. The years you've had, the moments you've shared behind closed doors, in the bed of your Manhattan apartment with the scent of him permanently embedded in your sheets.
He is here standing right in front of you after breaking your fucking heart like it was just another logistic of the job. As if the 14 years were just a few short chapters of his life. Years of him sitting across from your desk with two cups of coffee in front of him, waiting on you each morning. It's having a bond so close words weren't necessary to communicate in the middle of an interrogation. He knew parts of you you tried to hide so well. It would be late at night when he stripped you naked and got you under him, when he kissed and soothed those parts of you that ached to stay hidden.
His imprint on you has continued to burn all this time and he's left and returned like none of it ever happened.
"Elliot," the name falls like a mixture of a curse and a blessing all at the same time. You're frozen there in the midst of chaos as he stands before you standing just the same. And then suddenly the gravity moves you both towards one another and you pick up where you left off.
"Olivia," he's right in front of you now. He stands so close you can see the grief already surrounding his eyes. The way they've sunken in from the tears he's shed already, blood shot and red. He's aged right in front of you and whatever has just happened made him age even more.
"What happened?" You manage to choke out. You have not a clue what trauma he has just endured but the emotion of having him here of enough to send you over the edge. You expected relief in seeing him again all those years of fantasizing about him coming back. Instead it's a roaring pain in your chest that brings the heartbreak back all over again.
"It's Kathy, she's," he's speechless. Breathless even as his own adrenaline pursued. "We were running late for your award and I told her to get in the car," you glanced behind him as each word trailed. Just bits and pieces of the car left behind. It's burned and still smoking in the aftermath and you think, there's no way anyone survived that bombing. There's no way Kathy survived that.
He's mentioned your award ceremony and you decide now is possibly the worst time to ask what he meant by that. Instead you help him into the ambulance to ride to the hospital with his wife. His wife. The woman that got him in the end but is now fighting for her life. The woman he's following wherever she goes. The woman he's not abandoned much like he did to you.
And much like the idiot you are, you follow him to the hospital to support him. Despite the grueling decade thats passed. The way he completely abandoned you and- God, the way he's abandoned the son you both created. That blue eyed curly haired boy sleeping in your two bedroom apartment right now. The one he's got no idea about. But you follow him blindly into what's next because he's your partner at the end of the day.
For better or for worse.
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