Title: Rollercoaster, Favourite Ride
Author: ZombieJazz
Fandom: Law & Order: SVU
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.
Summary: Elliot has left SVU - and it hits Olivia hard. His departure has some implications for her work life and her personal life. She tries to figure out what it means for her own identity, her new marriage, and her work situation. In the midst of it all, she's also having to navigate new squad members at work and still deal with being the mother of a sick child. This story takes place just several months after the conclusion of Undeserved in my AU series of stories.
Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. My stories are not EO and never will be. You may want to read some of my other ones for context on the characters in this AU first - though, it's likely fairly self-explanatory on its own too.
WARNING: THIS STORY MIGHT KIND OF BE A SPOILER FOR READERS OF UNDESERVED.
Rollins could see the older detective talking in hushed tones on the phone and squeezing the bridge of her nose as she chatted. She didn't seem that impressed.
"He can't hold it?" She'd said and after a few beats had sighed. "OK. Yeah. No. Come up."
Benson had gone back to typing something on the computer after the conversation had finished. But not more than about five minutes had passed before the little boy from the picture on the woman's desk had come charging into the squad room and made a beeline straight for his mother – clearly familiar with the space.
The kid looked even more like her in person than he did in the photo. But something looked kind of off about him too, that she couldn't quite place. She did think he looked a little small, though, considering she was pretty sure she'd heard the detective tell Amaro that the boy was seven. He looked maybe five – kind of a scrawny runt of a kid, she thought. Little thing was likely going to take walloping in the playground for that.
Rollins had seen Nick look up as the kid had come into the bullpen too and watch as the boy bounded over to Benson. Her body language had changed and softened as the little boy reached her and she'd accepted his hug and kept an arm around him as he talked at her, pushing her chair in a bit of a rotating motion and she let him move her ever so slightly on it, before swinging it back over to bump him just a nudge and he used the momentum to bounce her away from him again.
Rollins had glanced behind her again as she saw Benson's eyes lift away from her boy for a moment and look towards the door and a kind smile spread across her face.
A handsome, fit-looking man was coming in. She hadn't really thought about if Benson had a man in her life. Something about the woman just screamed single mother. Maybe she'd just assumed that a woman couldn't do the job and have a real relationship. She sure as hell hadn't figured out how to do that good and proper – even in Atlanta. In New York City – the hours and what she saw was even worse. Doing it with a little kid at home sounded hard enough to her – juggling the needs of some guy and keeping a relationship going? She couldn't imagine being able to pull that off and she'd only been there a couple months.
But, fuck was the city lonely for a place with more than eight million people in it. Having some companionship didn't sound half bad, even if she didn't know how the hell you could keep it real with the pressures of the job. But the guy was clearly Benson's man. She was clearly pulling it off.
She looked over the guy, taking him in as he walked over to where the detective and the boy were, and sat his ass on the edge of her desk to talk quietly to them for a moment too. Benson's body language had softened even more as the guy got there. The woman was even smiling and almost seemed to laugh at something the guy had said.
Rollins always envisioned other cops with cops for some reason. Even though she knew for a fact that cops weren't exactly the pick of the litter in terms of dating. There were a lot of macho, narcissistic, chauvinistic assholes on the job. She sure knew that from experience. This guy didn't look like a cop, though. Not at all.
He was wearing baggy khaki shorts with a dress shirt that had its sleeves rolled up to above his elbows. But he'd paired the shorts with what looked like Blundstones to her, which even she thought was a strange fashion choice. She could see how muscular the guy's legs looked, though, and also that his one calf was plastered with a tattoo while another took up the entire inner side of his one forearm. She couldn't really tell what either were, though. One kind of looked like Chinese characters while the other might've been some sort of equation. He had a Yankees cap sitting backwards on his head – the same as the woman's kid, and sunglasses were sitting up on top of it. The way the ball cap hugged his head so tightly seemed to highlight some angry-looking scars that crept along his one eye and cheekbone. But the rest of the guy's features looked so relaxed. He almost seemed deceptively young looking and baby-faced. He even had fucking dimples in his cheeks to go with his prominent cheekbones and chin. It looked like he didn't know how to not smile. He definitely wasn't a cop.
She overheard the kid say something about "Nurse Bruise" and then watched as he struggled to pull the UV hoodie he was wearing up his arm, only to have the detective work at pulling the shirt up and over the kid's head instead and then examining the boy's arm. Even from where she was sitting, she could see a prominent looking bruise on the kid's arm after the detective had peeled away a Band-Aid and some cotton-bunting. She figured it sort of looked like the boy had had some blood-work go badly.
She could see Amaro kind of watching out of the corner of his eye too, but resisting the urge to directly look at them. Rollins had a better view of the show, though Nick could likely hear whatever they were saying better from his vantage point. She thought it was a little weird to see Benson clearly as a member of a family – obviously a mother and wife. That totally wasn't the vibe she gave off. She supposed they all put up fronts at work and kind of had too. But it was pretty clear that there was more depth to the woman than she'd thought.
Rollins had come into Manhattan's SVU respecting the woman's work. She knew her cases – she'd studied a lot of them, she'd even used some of them to help shut her own back down in Atlanta. But she'd just kind of assumed that the other detective lived the same life as her on some level. She clearly didn't. The woman had more to her than the job and she hadn't even considered that. She thought Benson was her work – married to the job. That was the vibe she got from her – even after she'd spotted the kid's photo on her desk, she still thought it was a bit of a blip – a coincidence. Maybe it was a sign you could have a kid, be a woman and still pull off the gig? Or maybe that's what Rollins wanted to believe.
"You should've asked for someone else," Rollins heard the detective direct at the guy while still examining her boy's arm.
"He didn't fuss," the man had said back to her.
"She digs," Benson had shot back at him. "This is his good arm – now they won't be able to use it next week."
"It's just a bruise," the guy had said – and Benson had shot him another dirty look.
"Did you even put pressure on it after?"
"No," the boy had answered for him.
"Because Noah knows to do that himself now, right?" The guy had said – and the boy had just shrugged.
"Go get some ice and a paper couple paper towels from the kitchenette," she'd demanded at the guy, who'd made an audible sigh and trudged off in the right direction, also clearly familiar with the squad room and it's surrounding area.
"Does it hurt, sweets?" She'd asked the boy who just shrugged at her again.
"I'm hungry, Mom," the kid had said. "Does Unkie Munchie have pudding?"
Rollins had to look further down at her desk and stifle her mouth to contain a laugh at the kid's reference to the serg. She'd glanced over at Amaro, who clearly had heard it too and was also trying to hide a smile. Even being there just a short time thinking of the serg as Unkie Munchie seemed like a little much.
"You know I don't think Unkie Munchie keeps pudding here just for you," Benson had said to the kid.
But the kid had nodded vigorous. "Yes, he does."
"Does he?"
"And Eli," the kid had clarified. Rollins wasn't sure who Eli was but kind of figured from the name and the cloud that briefly rolled across the detective's face that it was likely her former partner's kid.
So she gave the boy a bit of a sad smile and had agreed, "And Eli," and then jutted her chin off in the direction the man had gone. "Go and help, Daddy. Tell him I said you can have a pudding if Unkie Munchie has some in the fridge."
The boy had brightened at that and quickly gone charging off and she'd started clearing some stuff off her desk until the two boys had come back. The man had handed her an ice cube wrapped in a paper towel and she'd pulled the kid up onto her lap and applied it to his arm. The boy didn't seem to even notice and was instead fumbling around with a pudding, trying to get its lid peeled off. His tongue was hanging out of his mouth as he did it. Benson had almost expertly taken it from him with her free hand, maneuvered the kid's hand to hold the ice in place and then opened it for him, handing him the lid so he could lick at it with an enthusiasm that made it seem like he either hadn't eaten that did or that he didn't get pudding very often. She'd then bent his arm to hold the ice in the crook of his elbow and lifted him off her lap so she could stand up and settled the kid back onto her chair, pushing it closer to her desk, where she'd set down the pudding and spoon for him for when he was done his licking.
"You know we're going out to dinner from here, right?" The guy had commented, nodding at the boy who was clearly overjoyed about his snack.
"You know it's going to be World War Three to get him to eat next week, right?" Benson had rolled her eyes at him. "I need to touch base with the captain before we head out."
She'd grabbed a file out her one drawer and had straightened.
"Ah, Will – Amanda Rollins, Nick Amaro," Benson had finally said at a more normal conversational level in the squad room and made brief eye contact with both of them. "They're our new detectives."
Rollins had seen Will give Benson some sort of look that seemed like a private and well-known commentary between the two of them. She could only imagine what it was all about – but she didn't get the impression it was that Benson had been as excited about meeting her as she'd been getting to introduce herself back on her first day, when the detective had more than just brushed her off.
"My husband, Will McTeague," Benson had added, nodding at the guy, then touched kid on the head, though he hardly seemed to notice. "Noah," she said simply about him.
Rollins gave them a bit of a smile. "Hey," she said. Nick had just nodded in their direction.
"OK. Back in a few minutes," Benson had said, before heading over to Cragen's and going in and closing the door behind her.
Rollins could see Will giving them both a bit of a once over. She was trying to figure out something to say to him – but really couldn't and she wasn't sure he was going to start a conversation either.
"Seems like that pudding must be pretty great," she tried, nodding at the boy.
Will glanced up from watching the kid and looked at her. "Ah, yeah, I guess. We don't do a whole lot of processed food at home. It's a treat."
"The serg's stash just for the kids or the whole class?" She asked.
He shrugged. "I don't really know the rules. Doubt anyone would really notice if you took one, though."
"Maybe you could get away with stealing one on Zara's behalf," she suggested at Amaro but he'd just made a grunting sound, barely looking up from his work.
Will looked at her again. "You're the one that transferred up from the South?" He asked, though there was a certainty in his voice, that only made sense given her accent.
"Atlanta," she agreed to his comment.
He nodded with some kind of recognition. "I was down there for a conference back at the end of June. Liv and Noah came down for a bit of a long weekend – did the tourist thing. Nice city. We had fun."
"Oh yeah," she said, perking up at the guy actually seeming friendly-enough – way friendlier than his wife came off as. "You do the Aquarium? Everybody does the Aquarium."
He'd rubbed at his face and looked at Noah again. "Yeah. We really enjoyed that. Great dolphin show. We liked the Lego Discovery Centre a whole lot too, didn't we there bud?"
The kid had nodded heartily at that. "It is very cool. My Racer went super fast."
Will nodded. "It did, you rocked it, there, sweets."
"It's not a real LegoLand, though," the kid said. She wasn't sure if he was telling her or his dad.
"Nope," Will had agreed. "Just a really cool store, right? But maybe we'll get to LegoLand on Spring Break, if you're super good."
The kid had nodded some more and the man had made eye contact with her again.
"Didn't even know there was a Lego store in Atlanta," she offered.
He shrugged. "I think it's pretty new. Bit of a change from Atlanta to New York," he'd commented.
She nodded. "Yeah but perps are perps no matter where you go."
The guy had snorted and almost shaken his head – like he was overly used to cop talk and didn't much like it.
"What were you in Atlanta for?" She asked.
"Ah, Team Up," he said and then shook his head. "It's this math conference thing – about reforming math curriculum in the country and utilizing online technology in its teaching more. It's kind of what I do."
"Curriculum reform?"
"Teach math. Basically."
"Oh, yeah?" She said. "At what school?"
"NYU," he said.
She examined him more. "You're a math professor?"
He shrugged. "Yeah."
She snorted and looked at her desk. She had seen Amaro watching that part of the conversation too. The big reveal on Benson's guy had been kind of anti-climatic, but she hadn't really expected the man to be a university professor. A cop dating an academic? Talk about two different worlds, she thought, and wondered what the hell the two could even talk about or have in common. But she saw that Will was looking at her questioningly.
"Sorry, you just don't look like a math professor," she offered up to him.
She saw Will glanced down at himself. "What do I look like?" He asked with a bit too much seriousness.
She shrugged. "Not a math professor."
Will made a face. "What's a math professor look like?"
"Not you," she told him.
The guy had kind of rolled his eyes and gone back to looking at the kid, who was done his pudding and had placed the melting ice smack in the middle of his mother's desk, creating a puddle on a file folder. Will had looked a little pissed as he picked the ice up and tossed it in the trash under her desk and tried to wipe the water away, flipping the folder open and seeing that the water had already soaked through and started smearing what was inside. She heard him swear under his breath and pick it up and wipe it on the side of his shorts, like that would help and then shoved it off to the side of her desk, out of reach from the kid, who was seemingly happily moving everything imaginable to different locations on the desk.
Will had taken the pens out of the kid's hands. "OK, Noah, I don't think Mom's in the mood for you re-arranging her desk tonight."
"Not re-arranging, fixing," the boy had protested and snagged the pens back.
"Well, I don't think Mom is in the mood for any fixing either. So let's leave her things alone, please."
The kid had made a huffing sound but let his dad take the pens and put them back in the container sitting over by her monitor. He'd instead shifted his attention to opening and closing her desk drawers – and Will had again guided his hands away.
"OK, let's not go through Mommy's drawers either, Noah," he'd said firmly.
"I forgot my Battle Droid here last time," the boy had protested.
"Well, if you didn't miss it all this time, I think you can wait until Mom comes back and is able to find it for you. You don't go through Mom's work desk drawers without permission."
The kid had crossed his arms over his chest and flopped against the back of the chair in a way that looked about as angry and defiant as his mother. It almost made Rollins laugh again.
Amaro had glanced at the ongoings too. "She have him in a lot?" He'd asked.
Will looked at him and shrugged. "Sometimes. We're usually in and out pretty quick."
"I've got a five-year-old," Amaro offered to the other man.
Will had nodded. "Yeah, Liv mentioned."
Amaro looked sort of put-off by that – like he was somehow surprised and disgusted that the detective would be talking about the new people in the squad room.
"Don't know I'd bring her in here," Amaro had said, almost with a judgmental tone to his voice.
But Will had just shrugged. "Guess you've got dealing with the job and juggling your kid and family life better than us then."
Amaro had examined the other man again. "Kid in a squad room – not an awesome idea. Wasn't there a shooting here?"
Will had glared at him. "Security has been increased since then. Holding cell's been moved too. We like him to know his mom is safe at work – and he's safe and welcome here too. This used to be a family here."
Rollins glanced at Amaro before looking back at Will and the kid. It seemed like a harsh comment. But if even the spouse of one of the detectives was saying that to them as rookies, it made it that much clearer just how much of a shake-up the squad was going through in the wake of everything that had gone down.
"Maybe the squad's family – but this isn't a family place," Amaro had interjected, like he wanted to have some sort of argument with Benson's husband. Rollins sure didn't think that was a good idea. She kind of doubted that Benson would be with someone who was a pushover.
But Will had just snorted and shook his head at the detective. "Get back to me in a year – if you're still around. You haven't had your wife or kid in here at that point – then you can give me all the tips you want on keeping your family out of the squad room. Good luck," Will had nodded at him.
Amaro shook his head in confusion.
"Wife, kid, cop, special victims. Good luck with that. Hope it works out for you – and your family."
Rollins raised an eyebrow at the other detective at that comment. Though it seemed harsh there seemed to be some sort of sincerity under it, like the guy knew what he was talking about.
Rollins really wouldn't have minded having some more time to quiz the guy and try to glean some more information about the other detective – even though Will had been guarded and fairly short with his answers, likely coached by his wife to keep his mouth shut, she figured. Still, the comments back and forth with Amaro had now left her wondering how long the two had been together. She figured on the age of the kid, at least seven or eight years. For cops – that might as well have been an eternity. There wasn't the opportunity to interact with him anymore, though, Benson had come back into the room with the Captain following behind her – and everyone had dropped silent again.
"He put his ice on your file," was the first thing Will had said somewhat defensively to her as she got back to her desk and tapped on it for her.
She'd immediately flipped it open and then glared at him. "Good job at watching him, Will," she'd said and pulled a couple papers out to wave in the air in an effort to dry them. There were visible wet marks on them and she didn't seem happy about it.
"He says he left one of his action figures here too," Will told her.
"Not a figure – a Battle Droid," Noah had clarified loudly.
Benson pulled open her bottom drawer for him and pulled out a toy that she put on the desk in front of her kid. "That it?" She asked.
The boy hadn't responded either way, picking it up but then diving back into the drawer and pulling out a couple little cars and playing with them along the edge of the desk.
"Will," Cragen said, "I hear you're still collecting donations for your race this weekend?"
Rollins saw the Captain already had what looked like several Twenties in his hand – and the guy had nodded and accepted them.
"Yeah, for sure. I don't have the tax receipts with me – but I can send it in with Liv for you on Tuesday."
Cragen had nodded. "Don't worry too much about it. Where you looking at finishing this year?"
The guy had shrugged. "I've graduated to the old fogies category, so I'm hoping to break into the top 100 in my division."
"He's got his training runs down to about two-thirty-six," Benson had interjected for him.
"I'll need to keep it there and shave off a couple minutes, if I want to break into the top tier, though," the guy had said.
"Hot summer for training," Cragen had offered.
Will nodded. "Yeah. It's been rough going. Supposed to be cool on Sunday, though."
"You got your team shaped up, OK?"
He nodded again. "Yeah, we ended up with a pretty good group. Got some strong athletes and then just some really great fundraisers. So it will work out. We should have a strong top five for our finishing numbers and think we'll come out at about $500K with the donations. Not a bad year."
The Captain had patted Will on the shoulder. "Good luck with it," he said before disappearing back to his office.
"What you collecting money for?" Rollins had asked – and seen Benson cast her an almost warning glance.
Will had seemed hesitant to answer, looking at his wife almost for permission to talk, before meeting her eyes again.
"I'm one of the coaches for one of the triathlon's charity teams this weekend," he said. "I'll be competition in the race too. I'm collecting donations from anyone who is willing and able."
She looked him up and down again – the comment explained a lot about the guy's physique.
"You're a tri-athlete?" She asked now.
"Do I look more like a tri-athlete than I do a math professor?" He put back at her and she saw Benson look over in her direction again and she felt a bit embarrassed about their earlier exchange.
"I could see some runner in you," she admitted. "I run too."
Will had shrugged. "I'm more of a swimmer than a runner. Running is just a necessary torture."
Rollins grabbed her wallet from her desk drawer and looked around in it – she only had one twenty and some ones. It paled in comparison to what she'd seen the Cap hand the man, but she thought it was worth the effort. She handed it to Will and he nodded.
"Thanks, I'll send your receipt in with Liv too."
She just give him a bit of a smile. "What's the charity?"
"Ah," Will had glanced back at Benson again but she was chatting at her son and leaving the money collection up to the man. "The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society."
Rollins nodded. "Good one."
Will had given a small nod again. "Yeah. It's an important one to us," he said and glanced back at his wife and kid again. "They do good work – a lot of research coming out of there. Lots of support for families."
Rollins examined him carefully and how he was looking at the boy as he said it. She looked at the boy again and ran the bits of conversation she had heard, the scrawny kid's arm – and it fell into place. She glanced at Amaro, who was eyeing her like she'd stuck her foot in it badly. She kind of wanted to kick all of their asses for not mentioning this about the kid. It sure added a whole new dimension to Benson's snarky factor.
She looked back at Will, not sure what she was supposed to say – but he wasn't even watching her anymore at that point. Benson had stood back up, her purse over one shoulder and was getting the kid's hoodie back over his head while Will was pulling the tight-fitting material down his arms. They were clearly trying to get the hell out of there.
"Hey, if you want some one else in your cheering section, I could come out," she offered. "I'm not doing anything – still trying to meet people in the city. I could give you a bit more of a donation then."
Will had looked at Benson like he wasn't sure what to say. She'd shrugged and made an audible sigh, that kind of left Rollins with the impression that she wasn't that welcome, which she kind of figured anyways. Benson had been making clear since she got there that she wasn't that excited about either her or Amaro's presence on the squad.
"Whatever," the detective had said to her. "Come out, if you want. We'll be over with the First Responders contingent in the finishing area. Guess there will be lots of opportunity for you to meet people that way."
"She'll be surrounded by burly firefighters," Will had said, "my brothers."
"Any of them single?" She had meant half-jokingly. But she figured if any of them looked half-ways like Will and had a similar personality, she couldn't do a whole lot worse. Benson though hadn't seemed to take it as a joke and had given her another deadly look.
"Ah, no," Will had said, clearly not seeing the funny either. "They're both married. Sorry."
"Well, you don't need to apologize about it," she said, trying to smooth it over.
Neither Will or Benson had responded – though the detective had nudged her boy. "Com'on, let's get going, sweets."
"Nice to meet you," Will had nodded to them both and followed after his wife and son.
"Text me or whatever if you do come out and can't find us," Benson had called over her shoulder as they disappeared out the door.
She looked at Amaro and he shook his head at her.
"You could've mentioned her kid's sick," she told him.
"You have two eyes, detective," he responded.
"Lots of kids are small," she interjected.
"And pale, and have sunken eyes and no hair and giant bruises on their arms?"
"He had a ball cap on, I couldn't see his head," she protested.
Amaro nodded with a clear sarcasm to it.
"Is he OK?" She asked him.
He shrugged. "I don't know."
"Geez, that's crappy for her," she shook her head.
"I don't get the impression she wants sympathy or that we're even supposed to know – so you might want to keep your sentimentally in check there too," he suggested.
She cringed. "No one around here talks about much of anything, do they?"
"You all share your life stories in Atlanta?"
She shrugged. "Someone's kid having cancer would've at least been mentioned."
Amaro looked at her. "You aren't seriously going to go out to his race?"
"Why not?"
He shrugged. "Doesn't seem like a great idea."
"He seemed nice."
"Maybe – but he's running the race. You'd be hanging out with Benson and the kid."
"And likely hundreds of other people," Rollins said. "Maybe she'd be easier to get to know outside the squad room. Besides, I'm not from here like you. This is a hard place to meet people in. Maybe a bunch of First Responders in one spot will make it easier."
Amaro examined her. "You have fun with that. I think you better hope your phone rings and you get called in."
"So having to go and work some sex case on the Sunday of a long weekend is more appealing than spending a couple hours with Benson and her kid at an event for a good cause?"
Amaro looked at her again, "Yes," he confirmed forcibly.