Part 2 of 2. I could do a third, but I think this is good way to end it. Please let me know what you think! Thanks so much for all reviews from the first part, it's greatly appreciated. Happy New Year!
As he counts the miles toward her, he counts all the things that led him away from her. He promptly punched the address Lizzie gave him into his GPS, with little regard to the outcome. As the minutes tick by, he realizes it was the best coping mechanism of all. He has half a mind to turn around. The sheer lunacy is not lost on him. Elliot has little way of a plan, and not much to say to her.
Other than the blessed truth.
As the country roads meander, Elliot's curiosity piques about Olivia's life. He left the outskirts of the city miles ago. He left the rest of his sanity minutes ago as well. She is leading a separate life away from the city that brought them together, and tore them apart at the same time. It was home to her soul for so long, he wonders what could have possibly brought her here.
Fifty nine minutes north, he settles into a small town called Mahopac. Population less than 10,000. There is not much to the town. Except there is, your truth north. Elliot pulls his car into a closed gas station, needing several minutes to think, or maybe just to breathe, or both. While pure adrenaline and whimsical thoughts spurred on by his youngest daughter have lead him this far, he needs to get a grip.
It does not take much time to realize that showing up at her house at 1:30am, might not be the best plan. He'll take his chances with the morning sun. He's never seen a sunset with Olivia that was not tainted with blood from a crime scene. The small nuances of a day that escaped him for twelve years, he wants to go back with her and relive all of them. Just to have more of her, or any of her.
Elliot wants to learn about her again. He's always played it safe, and close to the vest as his mother would say. While that got him through life just fine, he never got to soar where dreams do.
He finally manages to find an all night diner just on outskirts of town. It's a hole in the wall kind of place, where everyone probably knows everyone else's business. His waitress tried in vain to make conversation with him, but Elliot barely grumbled. She finally took the hint, and left him alone with his thoughts and endless amounts of coffee.
The coffee is god-awful. Normally, he would have sent it back and requested a fresh pot be made. But the stale and bitter taste remind of precinct days, when they all had no choice but to drink Munch's endless cups of sludge. The booth seats are sticky too, with grime and old syrup from pancakes no one can seem to finish. He can still see two year old Eli, with syrup everywhere. Olivia had tried in earnest to clean syrup off of Eli, in the process she managed to get the sticky substance all over her blue paisley shirt and arms. Her laugh had been so rich and vibrant, she made Eli giggle. Even rarer, Elliot had a smile so big; it reached the wrinkles by his blue eyes.
It takes his breath away, at complete and random times, that he finds Olivia in the most menial tasks.
He hears her long before he can see her. Elliot stops dead in his tracks, he relishes these few uninterrupted seconds. Her voice is every single thing he remembers. It's the angry voice mails, all night stakeouts, her words dripping with drowsiness and heartache. When Olivia would become so quiet while talking with the victims; she inspired trust, at times instantly. She always had a purpose for talking, he wasn't always listening. He remembers so clearly how she would say "I'm fine." Except she hardly ever was. Elliot wants to ask her about this someday soon.
Her laugh. She's laughing hysterically at something. A grown man of 54 wonders how he can compare it to dripping honey. Elliot begins to walk toward her laugh, he's swallowed up in her aura already and he has yet to lay eyes on her. He's royally fucked.
"Mommy, you need to throw it better. Or we will never get it." Equal fits of laughter.
Elliot's heart melts. Mommy.
By the time he reaches the fence, he's long forgotten the eight years that have come and gone.
"I'm pretty certain you're supposed to hit the ball."
Her body stills in less than a second. Old reflexes die hard. She's back out in the field with him, they are walking in sync, because how could they not. They always knew when they were in immediate danger, when they had to become absolutely still.
"Hello, Olivia." She's so caught off guard, a simple hello seems painful.
"Hey Mister. I'm Noah. Who are you and what do you want?" Of course her son is a straight shooter.
Olivia is protected by eight years. Before Noah came along to bless her life, Olivia had managed to compartmentalize Elliot into a neat cardboard box in her brain. As a resilient spirit as she is, there is only so much hurting a person can endure before they want to close up shop and move along. She wanted to desperately hate Elliot, because hate was something she could hang onto, it was a deep and visceral thing. In the end, hate is something is she aligns with criminals, death, and unnecessary pain in the world.
At different points she imagined a reunion of sorts, but not now, and certainly not like this. It's been years since she's thought of him showing up at her apartment out of blue, like an apparition in her dreams or nightmares.
Years ago Olivia would have gotten a twisted sense of satisfaction out of feeling the sting of her palm connecting with the flesh of his cheek. But years have passed, and she's changed, and nothing is the same.
Olivia's dressed comfortably for a Sunday morning. Her hair is half up in a twisted bun, with a few wayward strands framing her face. Yoga pants and a loose fitting sweatshirt were a perfect choice for playing T-ball in the yard with her son. She's certainly aged since Elliot last left her in the 16 precinct, but she wears her years with a grace and beauty that cannot be matched by people who are countless years younger than her.
"I asked Lizzie not to show you that letter Elliot, but let me guess you had to read it anyways?"
"She definitely would not let me see your letter, she kept her promise." His words fall quietly, briefly wondering why it was so easy for his daughter to keep a promise to Olivia, but how he could not do so.
"Mommy, who is this man?" Noah walks over and steps in front Olivia, dropping his baseball glove. He's five years old, but he's a fierce Benson.
"Noah, remember when I told you I used to be a police officer in the city? Well this is Elliot, he was my partner for a long time."
"Hi Noah, I'm Elliot. It's nice to meet you." Elliot puts out his hand to shake Noah's hand.
"Excuse me, I'm using my nice manners on you, but my mommy and I were having lots and lots of fun, and then you got here. She's doesn't seem like she wants you here." Noah starts to walk away, as Elliot visibly bristles.
There are long moments that stretch out before them; it's the equivalent of the longest ride home, and shortest trip down the ravine. He has a lifetime of regret living inside of him, and he has only minutes to make it into something salvageable.
How did it all come to this? How did we break so much of this?
Olivia is busy painting a vivid picture of him; she wants to remember him on her terms. Not surrounded by the death of a fourteen old, or blood on the floor the new precinct that never felt like home. When Elliot leaves again, for the last time, this is how I will remember him. It is easy to pretend that his mere presence has no visual effect on her; she had mastered that skill for over twelve years. It was only after his sudden departure, that her body was incapable of being deceitful. Olivia physically ached when he vanished. The one thing she promises to commit to memory are all the blues in his eyes. After so many months and years his eyes were only blue, no other adjectives were adequate, it was always easier not to remember.
Noah's marching around brings them back from the haze of regret. Noah will always be her center.
Elliot gaze is heavy and tense. The words will never be right enough, but Lord knows they have to try, because he wants more than a mere existence.
He coughs nervously. "So Liv, I guess I should have called or something. But I was afraid you would hang up, so I drove here on a whim."
"Look, I don't know what you want from me. But this isn't going to happen in front of my son." Olivia's voice is thick with warning, but her eyes shine from unshed tears.
"Noah honey, can you go inside for a little while? You can even watch part of the movie we rented last night. I won't be too long, I just need to talk to my friend Elliot for a bit."
"Okay Mommy, but don't take too long, I don't want you to miss the part where Dustin saves them all."
She rubs his brown head of hair. Being his mother is like breathing; it's her essence and life's purpose.
Nothing about the morning had gone according to plan. Elliot and Olivia had successfully avoided killing each other; they had also avoided any real conversation. Out of all the words, sentences, and paragraphs Elliot had planned in his head, nothing significant had transpired yet. He's beginning to think that coming to see Olivia was a mistake. That their relationship is too far gone, too mangled for any repair.
Olivia is blessedly happy with Noah. Maybe that's all Elliot can hope for. Except, he's always been a selfish bastard with her, and he's not done yet. He's just shit with words right now. He reckons he always will be to, in spite of the years of therapy he's attended.
Noah is a whirlwind of energy and a tremendous buffer. He warmed up to Elliot rather quickly and their conversation wasn't nearly as strained. Noah keeps the chatter up with Olivia and Elliot separately. For as much as she wants Elliot to stay, she needs him to return his normal life. This chasm seems to be growing bigger, not smaller.
Noah is drawing designs in the dirt with a stick. He's really making a mess of the newly planted grass from this year, but Olivia could care less right now. Elliot and Olivia are each sitting on a swing on Noah's swing set. The seats are hardly comfortable, and their bodies are too old to be sitting this long, but really, who should be comfortable at a time like this? Olivia is busy looking at the ground as she drags her feet over well-worn ground from Noah's swing.
"I almost lost him, more than once. I couldn't bear it…" Her voice is lost amongst the creaking of the swing. She's always been the stronger one, so she continues.
"Do you have any idea what is like to almost lose someone who means the world to you?"
I do, I do know. I've known for eight years. He wants to say.
She's openly crying now. "I was CO for quite awhile at SVU, and he had so many medical issues. It was a constant battle. I always knew where my heart was, but I had to be somewhere else. They brought me before the judge, before I adopted him and questioned my abilities as a mother, and my love for him. What kind of mother wouldn't be at the hospital for him?"
Elliot takes her hand, making a small circle with his thumb on her palm. It tickles her, and reminds her of who this man once was to her. This is their first physical contact, the first part of the way home.
"Oh Liv, I'm sure you did everything you possibly could."
She sighs. "That's just it. I did everything I could, every single day and it was never enough. The victims still piled up, the blood still spilled out and that was just the police work. There was my little Noah, in foster care he had a history of rib fractures. He ended up with complicated asthma, may or may not be related."
"Then one day during a really high profile case, the shit hit the fan. Noah had a really bad asthma attack, and I was in charge of three borough man-hunt for some sicko. Tell me how I had to chose, how I had to send my nanny to the ICU, while I tried to find a bastard who didn't have the decency to care about another human being?"
"I realized that night at the hospital that I could never make that decision again. I walked away from a career that was my life for than 16 years, I never looked back either."
Elliot has so many questions for her. "Do you miss it?"
"Yes and no. SVU gave me the best things in my life, but it also brought the worst, and it constantly ate away at my soul. So I miss aspects of it, but I don't miss the job. Do you miss it?
"No."
"Why does that not surprise me? Why are you here Elliot?"
"Look Liv, I'm not good at this, at all. It's been years, and I have no real right to be here, I just…"
"Honestly, Elliot I'm over it. I mourned you and us. I'm happy now, isn't that enough?"
"It should be, but I was talking to Lizzie and for the first time in years I was completely honest with myself. I know it was a rhetorical question before, but you asked if I ever knew what it was like to lose someone who means the world to you, and I do know exactly what that feels like."
She had planned on practicing t-ball with her son today, not sorting out her former best friend's life. Olivia yearns for a simplistic Sunday, without the pain of Elliot.
"I heard about the divorce, I'm sorry about that."
"My god, you really are clueless aren't you?" Elliot disbands from the creaky swing.
"Mommy, can Elliot stay for dinner?" Noah walks back over from his designs on the ground.
"No honey, I think he has plans already. But you and I can get our favorite tonight. Why don't you go inside for a few minutes and draw Elliot a picture?"
"Okay, I'm gonna make a train with a caboose." Noah runs off with a dash of excitement.
Full name basis, "Olivia, I'm not talking about Kathy and you know it."
"Don't presume to know anything about me anymore. Things are different, I'm different."
"Christ Liv. Don't you think I fucking get that? I can see how different your life is. You're a mother. Out of everything, it's the one thing I had hoped for you. I always knew how amazing you'd be." His voice falls off, he's quickly losing confidence.
Elliot's turned around, so he's not facing her. In a whisper, "it's beautiful."
His sincerity stuns her. They have no idea how to talk to each other anymore.
"Did you say it's beautiful?"
"Yeah, I did."
"Okay then. I don't know what to say to that Elliot."
"Um, yeah you don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know. Liv, I miss you."
"For a long time, I was really mad at you. But after everything that happened with Noah, I realized we aren't guaranteed one more single day here and we need to make the most of each day. Along the way, I stopped hating you, and forgave you. But for twelve years you were my best friend Elliot. You've been gone for eight. How do you explain that?
"Liv, I don't know that I can yet, at least not fully, not all of it."
"That's really cryptic."
"No, just being honest. I promised, no more lies, even to myself."
"El, I miss you too."
The way back home is never easy, especially when no one knows where home actually is. You can have a road map and a compass and still become lost in each other.
Three hours later Elliot managed to stay for dinner, macaroni and cheese, a Noah Benson request. Olivia is washing dishes, while Elliot is playing Trouble, the board game with Noah. It would be so easy to get caught up in this slice of domestic serenity. If something is too easy or feels too right, Olivia is used to it being dead wrong. It so rarely works out in her favor, with the miraculous exception of Noah.
"Elliot, I got all of my red pieces around. I won. Mommy, I won!" Noah gets up and walks into the galley kitchen.
"Oh good. I'm glad someone beat Elliot." Olivia laughs, and she feels a bit lighter.
The hours have ticked by, this isn't over by a long shot, but the day can only hold so much.
His proximity is a dangerous and heady thing. Olivia's doing dishes, but feels him behind her and all around her. His strength will stay behind, even after he drives south, he owes her that much.
Olivia turns around, underestimating Elliot's exact location. They still aren't Benson and Stabler; they cannot sense each other without words, like eight years ago. He's too close. When Olivia looks into his eyes again, it's with the thought she is memorizing the all of the colors, so she will never forget. She knows what leaving is like, and wants no part of it.
"You're the only adult I know who can get macaroni in their hair." Elliot uses his thumb and forefinger to remove a small piece of noodle from Olivia's hair. Most of her hair is still swept up in frenzied bun, with several pieces framing either side of her face.
"El.."
"You're so Goddamned beautiful Liv, always have been."
Olivia's breath hitches, and falters. She can feel her own heart beating.
Elliot presses his lips to her temple, and nothing more. Not tonight. Every minute that he has spent with her today, feels like a minute toward their next twenty years. Nothing is perfect, nothing is settled yet. When he looks into her eyes Elliot sees a world beyond a simple existence, it's the kind of world where he wants to live in it fully each and every day.