Chapter Note: Circa-season 16

Chapter Four

Dominick "Sonny" Carisi

~oOo~

The precinct is quieter than he's ever experienced before, devoid of the loud arguments around case leads, or the endless ringing of phones that usually make up the ambient noise of a normal workday.

Sonny settles back in his chair, allowing his gaze to rove over the dark computer screens and empty desks. For a room usually so full of bustling activity, it's unsettling to now be blanketed by a silent atmosphere; yet at the same time, he finally feels a sense of peace washing over him under the dimmed lights of the evening.

The 1-6 has become a source of comfort for him now. He wouldn't say it is home, because Sonny isn't so emotionally connected to his workplace to describe the building or the team in quite that way, but there's a warmth in his heart when he thinks of the people he works with, and the easy connections they've built between each other, despite the horrors of the daily job. He has his own desk, and a career that is unfolding ahead of him in an exciting way, and it's nice to know that in a month from now, a year from now, he'll still be walking through those doors, ready to help find justice for another survivor.

It hasn't always been this way, of course; he's already been at the 1-6 for longer than any of his previous positions within Special Victims Units around the city. Two months at Staten Island, in a group of detectives already burnt out from the daily grind — cynical and uncaring, willing to look the other way if they knew the cases were too difficult to win in court. They had treated him kindly enough, but his own convictions had driven him towards a new unit, wanting to find kindred spirits of people genuinely interested in supporting those who are brave enough to seek help. He had looked at their uninterested Lieutenant and thought 'I don't want that to be me in ten years' time'.

One month in Brooklyn, surrounded by bawdy detectives who had enjoyed making inappropriate jokes, who hated the fact Sonny 'couldn't have a laugh'. Clashing personalities and too few cases being investigated had found him packing up his desk once more.

The less time spent thinking about his one week in Queens, the better, at least in Sonny's opinion. His new Captain had made it very clear that he was neither wanted or needed, to the point where Sonny had sat down with his Mamma late one evening, and tried not to become overly emotional when he wondered out loud if he was the problem after all. Perhaps his personality would never endear him to other detectives. Maybe his hope to find an SVU team who would help survivors and be a source of comfort in their time of need had been too idealistic. Maybe he should have stayed in homicide rather than volunteering for a role in these units.

But his Mamma reminded him that he wasn't a quitter, so the very next day he told his delighted Captain that he was seeking to transfer to Manhattan SVU.

'You'll fit right in there,' his Captain had said, and by the sneer on his lip, he didn't mean it as a compliment. 'That Sergeant Benson…bleeding heart just like you.'

And Sonny does fit right in, even if it is not as smooth a first impression as he would have liked, with his big mouth and over-eagerness to impress his new Sergeant. Yet despite her threats to send him on to the Bronx, she had ensured he was fully integrated and welcomed into the team.

'So they love you wherever you go, Carisi?' Benson had asked when he first arrived, clearly skeptical of his inability to stay with a single unit for any prolonged period of time. He can't be anyone but himself, however, and it turns out that not only Benson, but the entirety of the 1-6 has no issue with who he is as a person. Now, there's no place he'd rather work.

Or at least, that's true most of the time, anyway.

He closes his eyes with a sigh, one hand coming up to rub against his temple with fatigue. It had been one of the toughest days yet for him at SVU; the type which made him reconsider why he left homicide in the first place, and whether it had been worth the effort of jumping from SVU team to SVU team, when he still has to face such soul-deadening losses.

He knows deep down that it is though. It's worth the pain that settles into his heart, because unlike homicide, here they can truly help survivors, providing resources and outlining ways for them to pick up the pieces of their lives, to discover inner strength. And if it is too late — if the case begins with a cold body in the morgue — then he knows his new team will at least treat the person with dignity, refusing to overlook the utter betrayal of what has been done to these people, and their right to be at peace.

There's a slight noise that echoes through the room, and he opens his eyes again, spinning in his chair so he can glance over at the closed door to Benson's office.

She is the real reason he is still here, pretending to have tasks to finalize when his paperwork was actually signed off hours ago — the reason he politely declined when Amanda and Fin invited him to join them at the bar to decompress; the reason he waved a polite farewell to Nick, who had hurried home to see his daughter. As tough as the case had been for him, he is pretty sure it had been harder for the Sarge, who had dealt with grieving parents of a murdered child, and had gone toe-to-toe with the sick bastard who had caused the tragedy.

She is still in her office now, working away, and despite the late hour shows no sign of slowing. He knows she has a lot of responsibility resting on her shoulders, and if there is any small way he can repay her for welcoming him onto her team, he is going to take the opportunity. Tonight, he is determined that she won't be working alone at the end of a very long day. Maybe in another hour, he'll order some dinner and see if he can make her eat something.

Just then, the elevator dings, and a man walks out, carrying a baby in his arms. Sonny frowns, confused. It's an odd time of night for any visitor except for survivors looking for help, and this man does not exactly fit their usual profile. Still, Sonny is nothing if not opened-minded. Unless…God forbid it's the baby who needs help.

Sonny scrambles to his feet, heading the stranger off before he can get anywhere near Benson's office. He's determined she won't be disturbed unless absolutely necessary, while also feeling slightly desperate for a reprieve, for there not to be yet another nightmare-inducing case about to fall into their laps.

'The Sergeant is busy right now, can I help you?' he asks politely. 'My name is — Noah?'

His tired brain registers the fact that the man is carrying Benson's foster son in his arms, the boy fast asleep and drooling on his shoulder.

'Your name is Noah too?' the man says, an amused smirk dancing across his face. 'Liv didn't tell me there was a name-sharing situation going on.'

Carisi feels his cheeks warming in embarrassment.

'No, I didn't realize you were with Noah,' he tries to explain. 'You're his…nanny?'

The man barks out a laugh, but with the practiced ease of keeping his voice low enough that Noah doesn't even stir in his arms.

'Some days it feels more like I'm his servant,' he jokes. Carisi looks at him blankly, his mind whirring away to try and fit the pieces together.

'I'm his father?' the man tries, though that doesn't make sense either, because Carisi knows the story of how Noah came to be in Benson's life. 'Liv's husband? Elliot?'

There is indeed a wedding ring on the man's left finger, and the name Elliot rings a bell, but Carisi hadn't even known Benson was dating anyone, let alone married. Obviously, this man knows her well though, considering she's entrusted him with Noah's care, and it is this which prompts Sonny to step aside at last, no longer blocking the route to her office.

There is a sudden screech of a siren outside the precinct, and Noah startles awake, his tiny face scrunched up in an expression which indicates how close he is to crying loudly.

'Hey, hey it's alright,' Elliot soothes straight away, lifting the boy up until small arms wrap around his neck in a hug. 'We'll be going home soon.'

The click of a door draws both of their attention, and the subject of their earlier discussion stands by her office, a slightly confused look on her face as she takes in the picture in front of her.

'El?' she asks, with a frown. 'What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at home?'

She joins them in a few large strides, lifting Noah out of Elliot's arms and leaning in to Elliot for a quick kiss with an air of domesticity that Sonny had never envisioned seeing from her, although he isn't sure now why it comes as a surprise.

'Carisi and I were getting to know each other,' Elliot says easily, sending a wink towards Sonny.

Benson turns towards him in surprise, as if she hadn't realized he was there too. Sonny's more interested in the knowledge that Elliot called him by name without any introduction.

'You know who I am?' he questions. Elliot shrugs.

'Of course, I get to hear all the precinct news. It's nice to meet you at last,' he says. Now that Benson is holding Noah, he strides off to her office as he talks, disappearing for a few seconds.

'I had expected more facial hair!' his voice floats out of the open doorway, before he re-emerges, this time carrying Benson's bag, laptop, and coat. 'Was going to ask you for mustache-growing tips…I've been considering a goatee myself. Maybe shave my head…'

Carisi eyes him speculatively, trying to envision the look. Elliot is classically handsome, so he would likely be able to carry off most stylistic choices anyway.

'We aren't about to go through a midlife crisis and overhaul our wardrobes,' Benson grumbles.

Sonny notices her hesitating, glancing between Noah and her coat, and steps forward, uncertain but eager to help. A few seconds later, he finds his cheeks being patted gently by Noah's sticky fingers whilst Elliot helps Benson put on her coat and a scarf.

'This coming from a woman who used to change her hair practically every month,' Elliot is saying, faux-outrage in his voice. 'Did you ever see pictures of her as a detective, Carisi? Pixie cut, almost short enough to be a buzzcut. She looked very cool. Then there was a feathery, copper color moment that happened in the mid-noughties…'

Elliot is the one to take Noah back, at ease with having a baby tucked into one arm, and Benson's handbag slung onto his other shoulder.

'I'm sure the Sarge looked great with all her haircuts,' Sonny says, determined to put his full loyalty on display.

Benson snorts in disagreement.

'Unfortunately, that pixie cut was a poor decision between me and a drunk hairdresser,' she admits. Even Elliot seems intrigued by this nugget of information, but she shakes her head in refusal to answer more questions. 'Carisi, why are you still here? You should have gone home hours ago.'

He's been so wrapped up in meeting Benson's husband, that he doesn't have a good excuse on the tip of his tongue, stuttering out "paperwork" as a one-word explanation.

Elliot's keen gaze bores into him.

'Got a diligent one here, Liv,' he says, with a smile. 'Thanks Carisi, for keeping her company.'

Sonny shrugs, giving up the pretense of having any more work to achieve, and grabs his own belongings as well, following the trio out of the precinct. In the elevator, he diligently does his best to avoid noticing how Benson leans against Elliot with a sigh, her forehead dropping to his non-baby shoulder whilst she takes a deep breath. It's a private moment, a split second where she displays just how much weight she is carrying on her shoulders. Sonny is happy to learn she has someone to help lighten the load.

'See you tomorrow, Sarge,' he calls, as they head for their respective cars. Benson pauses at her door, whilst Elliot busies himself with placing Noah in his car seat.

'Sure thing, Carisi,' she acknowledges. 'And hey — good work today. You've been a great addition to the team.'

For the entire drive home, he has a bright smile on his face.