17. Everything
And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be
any better than this?...
Your all that I want, all that I need, everything. Everything.
Lifehouse- Everything
Elliot made it into the 1-6 a little after noon. He crossed the detectives desks. None gave him a second glance. At this point, they all knew he'd show up at this time at least once a week, He knew bringing Liv lunch occasionally wouldn't fix their deep rooted issues, but he hoped that seeing him week in and week out would start to rebuild the bridge he thoroughly destroyed with his absence.
"You're gonna have to wait," Fin called over his shoulder. Elliot spun around. Liv rarely left the office at this time of day. "She's in the kid's interview room with a seven year old we picked up from a DV case this morning."
Elliot pointed towards her office, knowing there was a viewing space there. "Okay if I watch?" Working with kids was the most rewarding, but also the most devastating part of working SVU.
Fin waved him towards the office. "Yeah that's fine." Fin returned to whatever had his attention before Elliot arrived.
Elliot entered her office, dropping her sandwich on the desk before making his way to the viewing window. He flipped the audio switch and watched the interaction.
The seven year old girl was small for her age. Probably from neglect. He thought. She wore a pink long sleeve, and leggings, with a mess of haphazard blonde curls tossed about atop her head. She reminded him of his girls at that age, and his stomach clenched. The worst part of working SVU was seeing kids, who reminded him of his own, suffering in the worst way.
Liv asked about school and her friends. The girl was evasive and vague when she answered. That always raised a big red flag, when a child wouldn't talk about a benign subject like school and friends. Liv backed off to work another angle.
He always loved watching her work, particularly with children. She possessed an intuitive sense he could never quite master, at least not at her level. That's probably why half his kids liked her better than him. The thought and the memories associated with it made him smile.
She waited for the girl to lead the conversation, waiting for her to take them in a direction where she felt comfortable. Olivia followed the girl's eyes to a stuffed tiger tucked in a small pile of stuffed animals in the corner of the room.
"Do you like tigers?, she asked as she pulled the tiger from the pile. The little girl's eyes lit, just a little,
"Yeah." Her answer was so soft Elliot almost missed it. Olivia held the tiger out, and ythe girl took it with a tentative grasp. The girl stared at the tiger, tracing its stripes with her finger. "When I was little I liked that kids show with the tiger in the sweater. My mom took me to the zoo to see one in real life, that was before Greg moved in though.
Bingo. He thought. That was her in.
"My son liked that show too." Liv absently stacked some blocks, not pushing too hard.
The girl's eyes flicked to Olivia with interest. "What's your son's name?"
Liv smiled that proud smile she always had when talking about Noah. "His name is Noah. He's eleven."
"My half-sister is eleven, but she lives with her dad."
"That must be hard."
"Yeah I miss her a lot, but Greg didn't want a house full of girls, and I don't know my dad so mom had to keep me with her."
Olivia nodded, pushing a little more. "How long has Greg lived with you and your mom?"
"Two years," the girl dropped her eyes back to the tiger, and her entire demeanor dipped. She seemed to contemplate something, before lifting her eyes to Olivia's. "He hurts me. He hates it when I'm too loud, or when I want to be with my mom."
Liv stayed nonchalant, reducing the pressure. She asked, "How does he hurt you?"
The little girl rolled up her sleeve to show a mess of scars and burns, and Elliot's stomach dropped, and that all too familiar indignation flared. Men who hurt children were the lowest of the low.
"He burns me mostly. I should be better at staying out of his way, but sometimes I can't help it sometimes." She pulled up the other sleeve, allowing Olivia to see the other arm.
"Thank you for showing me, but it's not your fault when someone else hurts you. It's their fault." Liv seemed to be thinking over something before saying, "Someone hurt me once too."
Elliot was at a loss, because while Olivia's mom was neglectful and spiteful, she wasn't outright physically abusive.
Olivia shrugged her jacket off, and lifted the sleeve of her blouse, showing a ghastly scar on the back of her shoulder.
Elliot had never seen that scar, and he'd seen her bare shoulder hundreds of times when they worked together. He felt sick, as he realized that whatever happened, happened when he was gone.
"He burned me too." She put her sleeve down and slipped her jacket on. Elliot suddenly hung on every word. "I have lots of scars from burns, but it wasn't my fault, and it's not yours either." Elliot swallowed a lump in his throat. Lots of scars. What the hell happened while he was in Italy?
He watched the little girl throw her arms around Olivia, cheeks streaming with tears. Olivia hugged her back, giving quiet reassuring shushes. "You will never have to go back there. Ever. I'll make sure."
The child pulled back from Liv, and met those reassuring eyes. She nodded. There was a knock on the door, and a social worker popped her head in. The girl walked to the social working but glanced longingly over her shoulder to Olivia. Liv gave the girl a warm smile, and she smiled in return.
Elliot felt privileged to have witnessed her in her element. She was a great captain, and ran an efficient squad, but this was her gift, where her heart truly sat. He watched her regain composure, and square her shoulders, preparing to be Captain Benson, not the vulnerable woman she allowed that little girl to see. As always, he felt awed and inspired by her.
Elliot felt a little nervous as she stood to return to her office, hoping she didn't feel violated by his observation. She opened the door and stepped into her office, surprised to see him.
"Hey." He smiled.
"Brought me a sandwich?" She tilted her head towards her desk.
"Yeah, hope that's okay." She smiled, but it quickly faded.
She all of the sudden seemed uncomfortable. "How long have you been waiting?"
He knew she was probably less worried about him waiting and more concerned about the conversation he'd witnessed. He could see her mentally going through the conversation.
"Not too long." She eyed him skeptically and he sighed. "I watched most of the interview." He admitted.
She stiffened. He tried to do a little damage control because he could feel her mental spiral beginning. He walked to the other side of her desk where she stood. He grabbed her hand. She still seemed anxious and she stared warily at their clasped hands, but she didn't pull away, encouraging him further.
His voice dropped to an intimate level that probably was a little intense for their work setting. "You were incredible in there." He toyed with her fingers, interlacing them between his.
She continued to watch their hands, deliberately keeping her gaze away from his. He lifted her chin, forcing eye contact. She looked terrified, and he wondered why. She glanced to the bullpen, obviously ensuring no one was watching this intense interaction. His hand moved from her chin to her face. She closed her eyes, and her breathing quicker, which quickened his in return. "I don't think you realize how absolutely amazing you are."
She shrugged her shoulders. Then she brought up the obvious elephant in the room, "The scars.." she began.
"Liv you don't need to tell me right now unless you want to."
She nodded but continued, "I want to. Well, at least some of it. It's hard," she gulped in obvious discomfort, "it's hard for me to talk about."
His hand dropped to her hip, keeping his other hand tightly tangled with hers. "When you're ready." He wanted to know, but he sensed this was big, and may be somewhat responsible for the back and forth, indecision, and fear that permeated their relationship.
She again glanced towards the bullpen. Fin and one other detective were deep into their work and the squad room was quiet. She found his eyes again, after ensuring absolutely no one was watching them.
"Um." She let out a long breath, obviously trying to relax her building nerves. This had to be big, and he worried if he was involved in some capacity because of her obvious hesitancy in telling him. "A couple years after you…left." This time he let out a nervous breath. Things happened while he was gone, and he knew this was big. "We had a case." He felt her palms beginning to sweat. "Um, I don't really want to talk about details, but a suspect got off on a technicality. He uh, found my apartment and broke in before I got home." Elliot couldn't breathe. He really didn't like where this was going. "He, uh, had me for four days before they found me." Now Elliot was sure he wasn't breathing because his chest hurt. Four days? Why the hell did it take so long? "He burned me with a lot of metal objects, hangers, keys…" she closed her eyes, seeming to muster courage. "I have a lot of scars. A lot."
Elliot felt his fingers digging into her hip and tried to relax. Two years after he left. He damn well knew that if he was around, the creep wouldn't have had the chance to touch her. Let alone keep her for four days. He felt sick, but tried to keep it together. For her sake. He wasn't sure what to say so he gathered her into his arms. Her soft body melted into his and he felt his eyes fill with tears. "God Liv, I'm so damn sorry."
She nodded against his chest but said nothing. He kissed the top of her head, and tried to keep breathing. It was difficult with the guilt eating his insides. He couldn't stop the relentless tears from streaming down his face. She got hurt, really hurt, and he wasn't here. No wonder she kept him at arm's length. She was trying to decide if she could count on him again. Trust him again. All he could say was, "I'm so sorry." He felt like he was stuck on repeat. He whispered it over and over into her hair.
"I don't blame you," she whispered into his chest. "But," she sighed, "it's hard for me," she kept trying to explain, "I really needed you, and you weren't there." It felt like someone stabbed him in the chest. "And I realize that you are here now, and promising to stay, but…"
"It's hard for you to trust me again," finishing the thought for her.
"Yes." she let out a long breath. "I want to. I want to so badly, but I can't, and it kills me, because I want this," She tightened her arms around his torso. "But, there is a small part of me that is terrified." She started to cry. "I couldn't survive that again, and if we are," she swallowed, "involved, it would make it that much worse if you disappeared. She continued. "I have my job, and Noah. I can't go to pieces like I did back then."
He nodded in understanding, trying to figure out his next move. "If you want me to back off, I understand." He squeezed her tighter, "But I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me to."
"I don't want you to go anywhere ." she said, her voice soft against his chest. "But you need to be patient with me," she brought her deep brown eyes up to his. "I need you to keep showing up, I need time."
He nodded and placed another kiss into her hair. "Take the time you need." He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead, and then her cheek. "I love you, and I'll wait. As long as you need, I'll wait." He squeezed her in an even tighter hug, hoping to communicate all the things left unsaid. She was his everything, and he would do everything he could to prove it.