Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Come on, Liv. It’s been a year. He wants to go.” 

“He wanted to go last time too,” Olivia said while sliding a form into the file cabinet behind her desk. 

“This is different.” Dickie settled into the chair in front of her desk. He leaned back, completely relaxed in her office. Dickie had never been intimidated by her, and it was endearing most days, but today she wished he would just back off. 

She folded her arms. “Tents. Trees. Spotty cell service. Bears.” Just to name a few. 

“It’s not the same, and you know it.” He grinned. “This time there will be a lake.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Not a selling point.” 

Dickie leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, suddenly serious. “I get that this freaks you out, Liv. I get it, but this trip is something Eli, Dad, and I have done for years, and he really wants to go.” His eyes held hers. “We want him there. He’s our family too.” He said his next words carefully. “You shouldn’t hold him back because you’re scared.” 

Her eyes narrowed, but she bit her tongue. As much as it made her angry, he was right. She dropped her head into one of her hands. She knew some of the fear was irrational. The odds of what happened last time repeating itself were infinitesimal. Unfortunately, the odds didn’t matter. The thought of letting her son out into the wooded wilderness made her physically ill. She knew he would be safe. She knew it. Elliot had kept his word the last time, and she knew he would die before he let anything happen to her boy. Still, the fear persisted. 

She looked up to find Dickie watching her, waiting, blue eyes full of hope. She knew she would be facing the two pairs of similarly blue eyes begging her when she got home. 

She sighed. Swallowing back the anxious lump beginning to form in her throat. “He can go.” The excitement in Dickie’s eyes almost brought tears to her eyes. She loved how much the Stabler’s loved her son like one of their own, and she knew how badly Dickie wanted to bring Noah on this camping trip. Not just Dickie, but all the men in her life desperately wanted her to let him go. 

Stabler Bros Group Chat

D: We got the green light! 

E: No way. You serious???

N: If you’re joking, it’s not funny. 

D: Sheesh. Who made you so jaded, Noh? 

N: Maybe the fifteen different practical jokes you’ve played on me this year. 

E: Really? I’m not there all the time, so you got to pick on the kid?

D: Oh, come on. None of them were that bad. 

N: You told me you bought me a cat...

E: Really? The stuffed animal thing. You’re such a dick Dickie. 

D: Ha ha. Haven’t heard that before...

D: But seriously, she said yes, so we are totally good to go. 

N: I can’t believe you got her to say yes! 

D: Did I mention I was her favorite? 

E: Only a million times. Still not proven. 

D: Actions speak louder than words. 

E: Whatever. So next weekend is the plan? 

D: I’ll double check with Dad, but I think so. 

N: Is it lame to say I’m excited?

D: Nah. We’re excited too. 

E: It's gonna be awesome. 

-000-

Beyond a cabinet light in the kitchen, her apartment was cloaked in darkness when she finally made it home late that night. A quiet whir drifted from the sound machine in Noah’s room. A quick glance at the clock affirmed how late it really was. She dropped her purse on the way to Noah’s bedroom. 

She quietly slipped through the half-open door and found her son completely zonked out on his stomach, with one arm hanging completely off the mattress. She noticed a chapter book laying open and face down on his bed, on the other side of his pillow. She toed deeper in the room, picking up the book, slipping a bookmark inside, and setting it on her son’s nightstand. 

Before she left the room, she brushed his mess of curls away from his forehead so she could kiss his forehead. Her heart ached a little. Her boy was growing up, and begging for a little independence. Problem was, she knew far too much about the darkness of the world, and she found it nearly impossible to let him go. 

With a sigh, she moved back into the hallway and into her room. The lights were off, and she could make out the shadow of Elliot's bulky body beneath the blankets. She left the light off and made her way to her bathroom by memory. 

She shut the bathroom door before flipping the light switch next to the vanity. She quickly worked through her bedtime routine, moving silently so she wouldn’t wake the man sleeping in her bed. Once her face was scrubbed clean, teeth brushed, and pajamas on, she quietly padded toward her bed, but before she could slide herself beneath the covers, a low, rumbling voice broke the silence. 

“How was work?” he mumbled, eyes closed, still half asleep. 

“Good,” she said simply. Unfortunately, Elliot was a master of reading her tone. Even when half asleep. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he rolled over, eyes blinking open, so he could see her. 

“Your son…” She sighed as she dropped down on her bed. 

“Which one?” he said, voice a little groggy from sleep. “I’ve got three.” 

Her heart swelled, like it always did when he included Noah among his own children. 

“The oldest one.” 

Elliot chuckled. "Yeah, well, I have no control over that one. Never did, really.” 

She slipped beneath the sheets and scooted herself towards him. He followed suit, meeting her in the center of her bed. 

He slid an arm beneath her, pulling her close. She shifted her weight so she was tucked tightly against his side with her cheek resting on his bare chest. He threw an arm behind his head, but his eyes remained closed.

“He really wants Noah to go on the fishing trip.” She felt her whole body tense at the thought. 

Elliot sighed, and his fingers began running through the ends of her hair. “I told him to leave it alone. I didn’t want to pressure you. Like I said, apparently I have no control over what he does.” 

Olivia couldn't help the serene smile that tugged at her lips. “Sounds like someone else I know.” 

“Yeah, yeah. He’s a stubborn ass. I know he didn’t get that from his mother…” He shook his head. “You don’t have to let him go if you aren't comfortable with it. I’ll talk to him. He will back off if I push enough.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Just tell me what you want, and I'll take care of it.”

The problem was, she didn't actually know what she wanted. She wanted to keep Noah safe, but she didn't want to stifle him. She didn't want him to be scared of the world. Dickie wasn’t wrong. Her fear was holding her son back, and was that fair? She trusted Elliot and the boys, and she was trying to control things that were outside of her control. 

She shook her head, trying to get the thoughts out of her brain. She was tired, and she didn't want to think about it anymore. At least not for tonight. 

Instead, she pushed herself up and shifted herself so she and Elliot were chest to chest. There was one way she could clear her head, and discontinue the conversation. 

She dropped her head lower so her lips were centimeters from his. “What if I just want you?” She whispered. 

Her eyes were closed, but she could feel a smile pull up the corners of his lips. He closed the distance, meeting her lips with a slow, affectionate kiss. When he withdrew, they were both a little breathless. “You have me,” he breathed. He pulled her down, kissing her with more ferocity. “You always have.” 

She responded in kind, deepening the kiss. His large hands began to creep up the back of her shirt, sending shivers down her spine. He pressed his palms into her lower back and rotated them effortlessly so she was now beneath them. She lifted a hand to cup his cheek. “That's all I need, El. It's all I ever wanted.” Her fingers danced over the muscles of his back. She lifted her head up, kissing him briefly. 

When they broke apart, he dropped his head to her shoulder, pressing a soft kiss there. His voice was husky and breathless when he brought his lips to her neck. “It's the same for me, Liv. It's always been you. All I ever wanted. 

She gasped when he sucked the delicate skin of her neck between his teeth. “You’re everything I need.” 

She felt her breathing quicken as his mouth left a trail of kisses down her neck and chest. He glanced up while his mouth continued to worry a mark into her lower chest. “Show me,” she gasped. “Show me how much you need me.” 

His hands gripped her ass, and a groan escaped as a deep rumble from his chest. She knew what would come next. She knew what she was doing when she challenged him. It stoked the fire that burned so deeply within him. The fire that burned for her. Onlyher. 

-000- 

Olivia kept a hand pressed to her stomach as all the boys loaded Elliot’s truck. The pressure did little to quell the nervous tumbling of her stomach, but she kept it there anyway. She continually pushed away thoughts of the last time she sent her boy away with a sleeping bag under her arm. 

Noah tossed Dickie his duffle bag so Dickie could secure it in the back of the truck. He was all smiles, and that helped her know she had done the right thing. He wanted to do this, and if he wasn’t being eaten alive by horrible memories, then maybe it would all be okay. 

Dickie tossed Noah one end of the rope while Eli leaned against the nearby wall, texting. 

A familiar pair of calloused hands suddenly rubbed her shoulders, and she jumped. 

“Sorry,” he murmured. 

“Its okay.” Normally she wasn't so jumpy around him, but her nerves were feeling a little raw. 

He rubbed at her shoulders for another moment before stepping into the space beside here. His eyes drifted to where Eli’s eyes were glued to his phone. “I’m not sure he can go an entire weekend without texting his girlfriend.” 

Olivia let out a light laugh. “It’s cute. What’s her name again?” 

“Becky, I think. It's new, so we will see how long it lasts.” 

She smiled. “He looks pretty smitten.” 

Elliot nodded and shrugged. Her eyes drifted to Dickie and Noah, who had just finished tying down everything. “He’s going to be fine. I promise he will be with someone the entire time. He won’t go anywhere alone.” 

Olivia wrapped her arms around herself and let out a slow breath. “I know. I know.” She tilted her head in his direction. “I know you’ll keep him safe.” 

He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her tightly into his side. He dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “I got him, Liv. There is cell service a couple minutes from the lake. I’ll make him call every day. A couple times a day if you want.” 

“Once is fine. I need...” she sighed. “I need to give him some space, and he’ll be safe.” 

“He will,” Elliot promised. 

“Hey Dad!” Dickie hollered unnecessarily loud for the distance between them. “I think we are good to go.” A familiar glint appeared in his eyes. “If you and Eli can go a few days without talking to your girlfriends, then we could actually get out of here!” 

Olivia laughed, and Elliot rolled his eyes. From the distance, she could make out Eli’s glare. 

“Okay, okay.” Elliot waved him away. “Get Noah in the truck. I’ll be there in a sec.” 

Dickie turned, and Olivia heard him talking to Noah. “First person in the truck gets to pick the music.” Noah hoisted himself into the backseat quickly. “What kind of music are you into?” 

The door shut, and she turned back to Elliot, her arms slipping around his neck. “You’ll be safe?” She whispered, sounding more insecure than she liked. 

He laughed as if the idea was absurd. “My daily life is much more dangerous than this. This, God, this is just fishing.” His eyes softened when he realized how serious she was. “We will be careful,” he promised. He leaned down and kissed her slowly, lingering once she pulled away. “Try to do something fun while we are gone. Go spend time with Amanda.” His eyes narrowed. “No work, please?” 

“No promises,” she said before kissing him once more. When she withdrew, she added, “You better get outta here before Dickie starts honking the horn.” 

“He would too.” Elliot grumbled. With one more kiss, he stepped away. “We will call you tonight.” 

With one hand still wrapped around herself, she waved. Elliot jogged over to the truck and slid into the driver seat. As expected, Dickie yelled loudly for Eli to get his ass in the car. 

Olivia chuckled and shook her head. She was certain Noah would come home with lots of interesting stories. 

Eli hurried into the truck, grumbling as he slid into the backseat with Noah. With that, they backed the truck up and drove away, leaving her standing there watching until they disappeared around the corner.

Chapter Text

Elliot continued to glance in the rearview mirror through the duration of the drive, nervously checking Noah for any discomfort. 

At first Noah engaged in a lively conversation with Eli about college and all of Eli’s new friends, but he grew quieter as the drive wore on. At this point, he had been silent for almost a half hour with his eyes fixed out the window. 

Elliot spent the better part of the week reassuring Liv that everything would be fine. He’d taken his boys to the lake for years. He even googled the location so Olivia could see that the campsite wasn’t frequented by bears, and there weren’t any serial killers or mysteriously missing people in the area. 

Elliot hadn’t worried about any of those things, but as the scenery became more rural, he finally acknowledged his own nerves over taking his kids out to the lake. It wasn’t like he thought anything bad would happen, but painful memories from the previous summer continued to rear up, causing his heart to clench in his chest. It had been a school trip. It shouldn’t have been safe, but the darkness that often stalked his life was able to find them in the quiet stillness of the woods. What once provided a consistent source of calm now filled him with apprehension.

Service became spotty as they wound through the mountain roads, eventually making Eli give up on texting his girlfriend. Five minutes later, he fell asleep with his head resting against the window. 

Elliot glanced over at Dickie in the passenger seat, scrolling on his phone and listening to music with his earbuds. He appeared mentally checked out, so Elliot thought it would be safe to start a semi-private conversation with the anxious child in the backseat. 

“Doin’ okay, Noh?” He glanced at the rearview mirror, but Noah’s eyes remained fixed out the window. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just… nervous a little.” He finally turned his head so Elliot could make brief eye contact in the mirror. “I know it’s going to be fine, but my stomach still feels,” he sighed, “nervous.” 

Elliot nodded, bringing his eyes back to the road curving in front of them. “Would it help if I told you I feel the same way?” 

That caught Noah’s attention. “You do?” 

Elliot nodded. “Yeah. The last time we did this...” His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Last time was hard on all of us, but you know what?” Elliot glanced up at the rearview mirror so he could see Noah’s eyes. 

“What?” 

“I’m pretty damn proud of you for coming on this trip. It’s really brave.” Elliot continued to reassure him. “I’m glad you are giving this another shot.” 

Noah shrugged and turned back towards the window. For a moment he just watched the trees blur past, but eventually he spoke. “I don’t,” he started, but he struggled to find the words. “I really liked being outside with all the plants and animals and stuff. I liked that part a lot, and I think,” he bit his lip, “I don’t think Clem would want me to be afraid of something that I really enjoyed.” 

Elliot felt his throat tighten as a lump of emotion formed in his throat. “I think you’re right.” Elliot felt tears sting the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them back quickly. “You’re a pretty great kid, you know that, right?” 

Noah grinned and rolled his eyes. “You and Mom tell me all the time.” 

“Well, it’s true,” Elliot defended himself with a smile. 

A mischievous smile snuck across his face. “You’re lucky I don’t have an ego like Dickie. Otherwise, you and mom would be raising me to be a total...” 

Elliot cut him off. “Please tell me they,” he glanced at his boys, “haven't ‘expanded your vocabulary’.” 

Noah laughed. “Uh. No, not at all.” He shook his head. “You realize I’m in seventh grade, right? Like, I hear worse words every day.” 

“Yeah. Not sure I love that,” Elliot grumbled. 

Noah shrugged before his eyes shifted back to the window. “How much longer? 

Elliot glanced at the clock on the dash and the GPS screen. “Twenty minutes, I think.” 

“Cool.” 

Elliot’s eyes returned to the road. Deciduous trees with their large, brightly colored leaves began to become more sparse, giving way to the more cold-hardy pine. The temperature began to drop as they continued their ascent up the mountain.

Silence once again blanketed the truck, and Elliot resisted the urge to continually check on Noah. He would be fine. They would be fine. He just prayed to God that the trip would go smoothly and they could all enjoy some time unplugged and away from it all. 

-000- 

“You freaking out,” Amanda said over the ambient sounds of the bar. 

“I’m not freaking out,” Olivia insisted as she eyed Amanda over her drink. “They’re fine. They called just before they made it to the lake. Everything’s fine.” 

Amanda rolled her eyes and took a swig of her drink. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try to get on board for the fake it till you make it mentality.” 

“I’m not,” Olivia waved her off. “It’s fine. They are going to catch fish, pee in the woods, and do all that man-bonding shit.” She sipped on her drink. “It’s going to be fine.” 

“Fine.” Amanda agreed. Olivia knew she was itching to point out the number of times she said the word fine in the past two minutes, but thankfully she held her tongue. Instead, she shifted the conversation to another uncomfortable topic. “So… you picked out rings yet?” 

Olivia choked on her drink. Sometimes she swore Amanda did all she could to provoke a reaction. “Uh,” she reached for some nearby napkins. “Yeah. We’re not.” She took a deep swallow from her glass. “We aren’t there yet.” 

Amanda’s eyes danced with mischief. “You mean you aren’t there yet.” 

Olivia shook her head. “No, I mean, I know him, and I’m sure he’s thought about it, but not seriously. I mean, we don’t even officially live together.” 

Amanda laughed. “Seriously, Liv? That’s just a formality at this point. You both might still have your own places, but I’m willing to bet he’s at yours nearly every night.” 

Olivia’s cheeks flushed a little. “Not every night.” 

“Yeah? I guarantee the only reason he keeps his apartment is because he doesn’t want to spook you, and he wants a place for his kids to gather without overwhelming you. Have you even talked about it?” 

She wasn’t wrong. There wasn’t a solid reason why they hadn’t taken the plunge and officially moved in together. Elliot took over half her closet, had two drawers, his own toothbrush, and DVR settings on the TV. Likewise, she and Noah had nearly full closets at his place. She even had several pairs of earrings and other jewelry items tucked into a jewelry box he specifically bought to keep at his place. Living together was just a formality neither of them had pushed for. They were comfortable, and maybe that’s why Olivia resisted any sort of change. 

“I, no, not really. And it wouldn’t overwhelm me,” she said. “Things are just good, I guess. Why change something that’s working?” 

She was happy. She and Elliot were good together. Sure, they bickered, and they sometimes had full-on verbal sparring matches, but in a matter of hours the storm would blow over, and they would find safety and strength in each other’s arms. Things were good, and rings changed things. Plus, she didn’t need a ring to feel certain of Elliot’s commitment. He showed up for her every day, in every way that mattered, and that was more than she could ever ask for. 

Amanda watched her for a moment, and Olivia realized she hated that all of her friends were overly perceptive, intuitive cops. Olivia liked to believe that she had a good poker face, but her friends were trained to pick apart the slightest incongruities. 

Amanda reached for her straw and stirred her drink aimlessly. Her eyes remained focused on the small whirlpool forming in the liquid. “But what if things could be better?” Amanda’s bright eyes lifted, and she posed a question that would haunt Olivia for the foreseeable future. “What if you could be more?” 

-000-

Dickie had decided to run a little interference for Noah the moment Olivia said yes. Dickie only had a cop for one of his parents, and that was bad enough. Nearly every adult in Noah’s life worked for some form of law enforcement, and Dickie couldn’t imagine what that might be like. 

He was also well aware of his father’s tendency to be overprotective, especially when it came to Olivia and, by extension, Noah. The kid was growing up, and both his “parents” treated him like he was made of glass. 

It wasn’t their fault. He was quite cognizant of the outright horrors his dad and Liv encountered on a daily basis. Between their jobs and what happened the previous year, Dickie worried the kid was at risk of full parental smothering. 

His dad was right on schedule for doling out the unnecessary long list of camping rules as they pulled up to the campsite next to the lake. Dickie looked over his shoulder, slightly satisfied that Noah wasn’t listening to one word coming out of his dad’s mouth. He had his window down, his hands gripping the door as he stuck his head out. His blue eyes widened with wonder and appreciation for the wild beauty surrounding them. 

He knew Noah had an artist's soul, and the landscape ahead of them was truly breathtaking. Elliot had barely dropped the truck into park before Noah’s door swung wide open. Boots hit the dirt, and Dickie exited the truck just as swiftly, making his way to the other side of the truck before his father opened the door. He knew the minute his dad exited the vehicle he would start listing things that needed to be done, and while Dickie understood the importance of getting camp set up before dark, he wanted Noah to have time to explore a little before the sunset. 

“Dad, how ‘bout you and Eli unpack the truck and start working on the tent so I can show Noah around a bit?” 

His father pursed his lips, and Dickie knew challenging his dad’s sense of order was a little risky. The military and a law enforcement career didn’t exactly make Elliot Stabler a flexible man. 

“Come on, Dad.” He knew he had a track record for being an ass who happily provoked his dad, but this wasn’t one of those times. 

“Yeah, why don’t you walk him to the pier and show him the boardwalk? Eli and I can handle camp for a bit.” He glanced over his shoulder and frowned when he caught Eli holding his cell phone up in a futile attempt to get any service. Dickie mentally facepalmed. Eli was in for an earful, and from the looks of it, he might need a little grounding. “Eli,” his dad snapped. 

Before anything could get more intense, he turned back to Noah, who was already pulling a sketchbook from his backpack. Dickie tilted his head towards the water. “Wanna check out the pier?” 

Noah nodded eagerly, slinging his pack over his shoulder before following Dickie down the short path towards the lake. A few trees blocked their view of the truck, but Dickie could already hear his dad throwing down a familiar lecture. One Dickie had become intimately familiar with in his youth. He shook his head. They would work it out. 

Dickie looked up to see that Noah had gotten ahead of him a little ways, making it to the edge of the shore before he did. Dickie jogged a little to catch up. “Whatcha think, Noh?” 

Noah’s eyes swept over the lake’s glistening surface. “It’s beautiful.” A smile crept across his face. “I wanna see the boardwalk so we can get back before Elliot kills Eli.” 

Dickie let out a full-bodied laugh. The kid didn’t miss a thing. “Alright then, let’s go.” 

Chapter Text

Noah spent the first night tossing and turning. He found himself waking up and counting the bodies next to him tucked in their sleeping bags. One. Two. Three. Every time he woke, everyone was where they were supposed to be. 

Noah didn’t feel well rested when the light of dawn began to creep over the mountain peaks. The chilly air bit his cheeks, making him burrow deeper into his sleeping bag. The sound of his sleeping bag rustling woke the other men in the tent. 

“Better get up guys. The fish bite best in the morning,” Elliot’s voice still sounded rough from sleep. 

Noah wanted to climb deeper into his sleeping bag, but he really wanted to learn how to fish. With a yawn, he pushed his sleeping bag down, and shivered as he dug around for his boots. He really needed to pee. He remembered one of Elliot’s rules, and as he shoved the first boot on his foot, he said, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Before Elliot could remind him, he added, “I know—I won’t go far.” Like he would dare. He wanted to make this trip, but there was still part of him terrified of the thickly wooded areas. 

He shook off the fear and unzipped the tent. Eli groaned when Dickie threw a balled up pair of socks at his head. “What the hell?” He complained. 

"Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Dickie teased. 

Noah rolled his eyes and laughed as he zipped the tent shut. He turned and jogged toward the tree line. His breath came out in foggy puffs in the freezing mountain air. Elliot told him it would warm up once the sun got a little higher. Noah hoped he was right because the biting cold air would be miserable if it lasted all day. 

He stepped behind a couple trees. He could hear Dickie and Eli squabbling. Dickie called Eli a baby, and Eli responded with the often-used ‘dick wad’ insult. That resulted in Elliot telling the pair to shut the hell up and watch their language around the kid. 

He knew the older kids all loved each other a lot, but Noah noticed that there was often tension between Dickie and Eli. He wondered about it every now and again. Dickie could be a jerk to Eli, but he was always the best when he came over to hang out. He liked to pull little pranks on Noah, but it was always good-natured and funny. Big brother sort of stuff. Maybe it was nothing, but sometimes Noah could feel the conflict festering beneath the surface. 

He finished peeing and zipped his pants up. He glanced down to make sure he wouldn’t trip on a stray tree root, and something caught his eye. The turquoise bead seemed out of place on the forest floor. He got closer and realized that the single bead was attached to a leather braided bracelet. 

He glanced around. There weren’t any people around, and he knew they were the only overnight campers for the next few days, so he stuffed the bracelet into his coat pocket. It seemed silly, but he felt like some sort of lucky talisman. It probably fell off someone’s wrist forever ago, and something about it made him feel compelled to keep it. 

Elliot was standing near the fire they must have made while Noah peed. The warmth finally brought feeling back into his face. He stuck his fingers out towards the fire, hoping to thaw them out a little bit. He could feel Elliot’s eyes on him, and he pretended not to notice. He knew he was worried, but besides the crappy nights sleep, Noah felt okay and a little excited for the rest of the day. 

The smell of bacon lofted in their direction, and Noah noticed Dickie frying some bacon and scrambling eggs on the small camp stove. Eli picked at a piece of bacon, and he and Dickie were laughing, and it was like the morning bickering didn’t even happen. 

In a matter of minutes, Dickie brought a couple plates of food over. “Let’s eat, then let’s see if we can catch some fish.” He grinned. His excitement added to Noah’s, and he scarfed the food down quickly before grabbing his backpack and fishing pole. 

-000-

Stabler Ladies Chat 

K: Busy tonight? Thought we could surprise Olivia. 

L: I’m free- whatcha have in mind? 

K: I’m not sure. Dinner for sure. Maybe drinks? 

M: I could do dinner, but I can’t stay out late for drinks. Boys have the final tournament game tomorrow. Early. Because they hate me. Apparently. 

K: Sunday morning? That’s brutal. 

M: Welcome to the joys of children’s sports. 

L: So dinner? 

K: I’ll check with Liv. Would you care if we do drinks after Mo? 

M: Not at all. Then I won’t feel like a party pooper. 

…

M: Your line’s supposed to be, "No, Mo, you could never be a party pooper.” 

L: I just don’t want to use the word pooper in text. Feels weird. 

K: Yeah, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it typed out 🤣. 

M: Ha. Ha. Make fun of the mom. 

L: Sorry, it’s just SO easy! 

K: Oh, be nice. 

L: I’m not being mean—she is a mom, so it makes sense that she would talk like one. 

M: Not sure that makes me feel better.

K: Okay, changing the subject. I promise you aren’t ruining anything. It will be fun to see you, even for just a little bit. 

L: It’s true. You know I love you, right? 

M: Yeah, yeah. Love you guys too. 

K: I’ll let you know what Liv says. 

-000-

Kathleen ——->Olivia 

K: Silence killing you yet? 

O: Not so much. I’ve been working all day. 

K: Of course you have. *cough* workaholic *cough* 

O: Can’t say I haven’t heard that before. 

K: Is your case under control? Me, Mo, and Liz want to take you to dinner tonight. 

O: Yeah, barring any crisis, I can get out of here by 6. 

K: Cool. Let’s plan for 6:30. I’ll send you a pin.

O: Great. See you then. 

-000- 

By some miracle Olivia left the precinct in enough time to go home, change, and refresh her make-up. She was almost ready to leave when her phone chimed, indicating a FaceTime call. She spit her toothpaste into the sink and wiped her mouth before answering the video call. 

Elliot’s face illuminated the screen. She immediately smiled. And greeted him. “Hey! How are my mountain men?” Her voice held a lilting, teasing quality. 

“Well, someone has something to show you.” The phone jostled around until the video panned to Noah standing next to an ice chest. 

“Mom!” He called, and her heart ached. It had only been one night, and she missed that contagious smile so much. Elliot walked the phone closer, and Noah opened an ice chest perched on the edge of the tailgate. “Check this out!” Elliot turned the phone away from Noah so Olivia could see the contents of the ice chest. To her surprise, the ice chest held some lake water and four large trout. 

“Are those yours?” She asked in disbelief. Noah’s natural inclination towards the outdoors continued to surprise her. 

“Not all, but I got three of ‘em.” He was bubbling with excitement. 

“Oh wow! Seriously? That’s amazing, baby!” 

Elliot must have passed the phone because Noah’s face was suddenly centered on the screen. She tried not to laugh—or wince—at the state of his curls. She tried to send him with a satin pillowcase—there was no way she would send him with his expensive silk one—but he had sighed and rolled his eyes. Aparently, bringing a satin pillowcase on a camping trip made him look like a diva. It didn’t matter that every man on the trip knew Noah used a silk pillowcase and why. But apparently a special pillowcase would be too high maintenance for camping. She eventually gave in and mentally prepared for the pending hair disaster. At home, they maintained a strict hair routine in order to keep his hair from becoming a matted, frizzy mess. It appeared all hair care had been tossed out the window, and he couldn’t look happier. 

“Yeah! Elliot caught the other one! Elliot said we cook the mover the fire tonight. It’s gonna be so awesome!” 

She chuckled at his overeagerness. “I’m glad you’re having fun, baby.” 

“It’s been the best,” he said with his contagious smile. His eyes darted away from the phone, and she could hear a muffled voice in the background somewhere. “Gotta go, mom. Dickie’s going to let me start the fire!” 

With that, the phone jostled around until Elliot picked the phone up off the tailgate.”Sorry,” he apologized. “Dickie bought some walkie-talkies before we left. He and Noah are having way too much fun with those.” 

She could imagine the shenanigans they were pulling with the help of walkie-talkies. “He’s doing okay though?” 

“He’s doing amazing. Like seriously, you would guess it by looking at him, but he might become a better outdoorsman than all of us.” 

“Oh boy.” She loved that he found something he loved, but it was a difficult hobby to maintain in the city. 

“But more seriously, he’s doing good. He had a lot of nerves on the way up here, and he sounded pretty restless last night, but he worked through it and had a really great day.” He scratched the day-old stubble on his cheek. 

She should have made him bring a razor. His beard was fine once it grew out, but the scratchy in between stage irritated his fair Irish skin. She almost said something but thought the better of it. The man had been a goddamn marine. He didn’t need his girlfriend obsessing over his sensitive skin. 

Instead, she gave him an affectionate smile. “I’m really missing you guys.” 

His eyes softened as he gave her a look he only saved for her. “Same here. I feel like we spend a lot of time apart, but when I really think about it, I realize I don’t usually go more than 24 hours without seeing you.” 

“Yeah.” She shook her head. “Amanda pointed that out last night.” 

“You actually went out?” He couldn’t sound more proud, and it made her laugh. 

“Contrary to popular belief, I have a life beyond work and you.” 

“Uh huh,” he said sarcastically. 

“Oh hush,” she scolded. “And I’m going out to dinner with your girls tonight. Two social engagements in a row.” 

He clapped his hands, and she rolled her eyes. He could be such an ass. 

“Now here’s the real question, did you stay away from the precinct today?” She opened her mouth but shut it, and that was all the answer he needed. 

“Knew it,” he jabbed goodnaturedly. More seriously, he added, “I’m glad you’re getting out and spending some time on you.” 

She shrugged. “It was good to catch up with Amanda, and I’m sure your girls—well, Kathleen—have quite the night planned.” She glanced at the time display in the corner of her phone. “Speaking of... I gotta get out of here if I’m going to meet them on time.” 

“Okay. Have fun, Liv.” His eyes softened again. “Be safe.” 

“I will. Promise.” She waited a bit before adding. “I love you.” 

He responded with the devotion that was so characteristic of him. “I love you too, baby.”

She cut the connection and stood for a moment silently with her phone in her hand. After a moment, she remembered she wanted to wear a certain pair of earrings. She hurried into her her room. She wasn’t kidding, if she didn’t leave soon, she would be late. She found the earrings easily enough, but she decided to check the bathroom drawers to make sure Elliot had stuff to shave with when he got home. After three days he would be itching—literally— to shave, and she wanted to make sure he had what he needed. If not, she could easily stop at a bodega on her way home from dinner. 

His drawers were always impeccably organized, and she easily located his razor that had ample replacement blades. His shaving gel was about half full, which should be enough for one solid shave when he got home. She went to shut the drawer, but it caught on something before completely closing. She realized she should probably grab her purse and get out the door, but it would take one second to get the drawer shut. 

She reached back to make sure the drawer tracks were free of any obstructions. The right side was clean, but there was a tassel or something blocking the drawer track. She wondered why he’d have something like that in his bathroom drawer, but when she tugged, a small pouch-like bag dropped into her hand. Without a thought she opened the bag, thinking she would find some random cufflinks he forgot about, but instead she found a box. The memory of the last item he gifted her—a compass housed in a small, delicate box—made her heart stutter. It couldn’t be what she thought it was. Could it? 

With shaking fingers, she flipped the box open. Inside sat a vintage-style engagement ring. 

There was no way she was making it to dinner on time.

Chapter Text

Elliot kept hearing the rustling of Noah’s sleeping bag as he tried to go to sleep. Elliot let him toss for an hour or so before intervening. He rolled onto his side so he was facing Noah’s back. “Can’t sleep?” He asked gently. 

Noah’s shoulders rose and fell as he sighed. He rolled over so he faced Elliot. “No. I just,” he paused, “I can’t turn my brain off.” 

Elliot nodded. “I get like that sometimes,” he admitted. More often than not, actually.  “Is there something on your mind?” He asked the question even though he was fairly certain of the answer. Noah did great during the day, but nighttime was different. Clem wasn’t taken in the day. She was stolen in the darkness of the night. 

“Yeah.” 

Elliot waited to see if he would elaborate, but he only heard the crickets in return. 

Elliot that he would press a little. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Noah rolled onto his back and stared at the mesh canopy of the tent. “I don’t know.” 

“You don't have to. It might make you feel better, but it’s up to you.” Elliot didn’t want to pressure him. Noah had always been pretty open and straightforward with his feelings, especially with Elliot. He credited Olivia for teaching Noah to talk through the tough stuff even if she struggled to do so. 

Noah lifted a fisted hand to his forehead and thought for a minute. “You won’t tell mom? It’s not something unsafe or whatever. It’s just something that might hurt her feelings, and I don’t want to do that.” 

Elliot found himself burning with curiosity. They had many conversations about Clem’s murder, and he knew Noah wouldn’t hesitate to talk to Liv about it. This was something different. 

“As long as you are safe, I can keep it to myself.” Olivia would hate it, but he knew that building trust was important, and Noah needed a space to work out whatever feeling seemed to be overwhelming him.

“Okay. It’s just the last time I said something about it, I wasn’t... I wasn’t thinking about how she would feel about what I was saying, and I know it hurt her a lot.” 

Elliot only knew Noah as a kind kid, always conscientious of his words and their meaning. It was hard to imagine a situation where he would speak carelessly. Even more, Olivia was pretty tough. Things could cut her deeply, but he doubted Noah could do anything to make her truly upset. 

“When I found out about Connor, I was really excited. I made a stupid comment about him being my real family, and I know that,” he groaned, “it was so stupid to say. I mean, Mom is everything, you know? She’s my mom, and I know that just because we aren’t biologically related, it doesn’t make a difference about how real our family is.“ 

“That’s right. I told your mom a long time ago that same thing. Genes don’t make family. You and your mom are as much my family as my own kids. I hope you know that.” 

Noah nodded but kept his eyes focused on the tops of the tent poles. “I know. I do. It’s just every once in a while... I don’t know. I guess I feel like I’m missing something. I watch your kids, and I feel like I’m missing out on some sort of belonging or something. I don’t know if that makes sense. I mean, I know I have Connor, and he is my brother, but it’s not the same. It’s not like we grew up together, and his life is just,” he sighed, “it’s so different from mine.” He paused for a moment, and Elliot gave him time to find the words. “I just don’t feel that belonging I thought I would have. Like your kids have.” 

Elliot took a minute to process the admission. He knew his kids were far from perfect. Hell, he spent half the day playing referee with Dickie and Eli, who were supposed to be grown ass adults. He didn’t feel like that was something to be desired, but he thought he could understand the feeling. Olivia spent years yearning for that same sense of belonging, and she found Simon, but that relationship didn’t end up as fulfilling as she hoped. He hadn’t given it much thought. It had been years, and now he wondered if a part of Olivia still felt that way. An outcast. Alone. He hoped to God she didn’t feel like that anymore. He hoped she found that sense of belonging and hadn’t given up. 

Noah waited for a response but ultimately decided to film the silence on his own. “Your kids make me feel good. They make me feel like I belong with them. Since I met all of them, they just acted like I was one of them, and that feels good. I guess I just wonder if I’m missing something. It’s stupid.” 

“No, Noah, if it’s how you feel, then it’s not stupid. I’m really glad my kids have made you feel like you have a place with us because you do. You are their baby brother, and I know they will always have your back. You are one of them.” He paused. “But I think I understand what you’re saying, and I wish I could help you find whatever feeling you are looking for.” He thought for a moment before he added, “Believe it or not, your mom has felt exactly what you're feeling…a lot. I felt the same way then as I do now. I want you to know that you are my family, and maybe that won’t ever fill that hole, but I hope it softens it a little.” 

“It does. It really does. And maybe this is some weird teenage existential crisis. It’s hard to not know where I came from. At least not really.” 

Elliot knew those answers. He had discussed Noah’s story with Olivia at length, but he didn’t feel like it was his place to provide Noah with those details. That was one hundred percent Olivia’s prerogative, and he wouldn’t take that from her. “I know you are worried about hurting your mom’s feelings, but she can help you with this. She had a lot of these same questions, and even if it’s hard for her, she doesn’t want you to feel lost. She will answer whatever questions you have, at least with the information she has. You just have to ask.” He mentally noted that he might need to warn her that the conversation was coming so she wouldn’t feel blindsided. She could mentally prepare a little. 

“Maybe I will,” Noah answered noncommittally. 

Silence hung in the air, and Noah’s breathing evened out, so Elliot thought he had finally fallen asleep. He rolled onto his back, his mind buzzing with thoughts and worries over his youngest child. How could he help him feel that belonging he seemed so desperate for? 

“Elliot?” His voice broke through the quiet. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m really glad you’re my family. I know I don’t call you dad or anything, but I like that you are my dad.” 

He felt tears forming in the corners of his eye. His voice thickened with emotion when he answered. “Noah?” 

“Yeah?” 

He swallowed the emotional lump forming in his throat. “I’m really, really glad you are my kid.” 

 -000-

Olivia tried not to let her mental chatter affect the evening. She was late for dinner, but Kathleen was too. She got caught up with work, which made Olivia chuckle a little. Turned out she wasn’t the only workaholic. 

The girls had picked a high end place with a cozy atmosphere. Olivia had never been to this particular restaurant, but Liz knew someone who did the bookings, so they were able to slide into a last minute reservation.

She had read the menu three times, but she couldn’t seem to focus long enough to remember what she had just read. 

He bought a ring. 

Surprisingly, it didn’t freak her out as much as she thought it would, but the idea still left her mind spinning. She shouldn’t be surprised, and maybe she wasn’t really. For Elliot marriage was a symbol of commitment, and  knew they were both one hundred percent committed to the relationship. If she were honest with herself she could admit there was no one else she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. The only problem, the only thing holding her back was that pesky fear of change gnawing at her stomach. 

What if it changed things? 

She thought about Amanda’s words the previous night. What if you could be more? 

The thought of marrying Elliot felt terrifying, but it also triggered another feeling she couldn’t quite identify. 

“Hey Liv,” Liz almost shouted her name. She nearly jumped out of her skin. 

“Oh sorry.” She didn’t really have a good excuse for spacing out, so she left the apology at that. “What were you saying?” 

“I was asking if you wanted to try this appetizer, but now I’m more worried about you being okay. You’ve seemed out of it since we got here.” 

“Uh,” she stammered. She wasn’t going to discuss this with Elliot’s daughters. For one thing, Kathleen couldn’t keep a secret to save her life, and for another, they were his kids. It wasn’t something she wanted to work through with his daughters. “Sorry, just distracted by the case we caught this morning.” 

The other girls moved on, but she could feel Lizzie’s eyes on her, like she was ready to call bullshit on her explanation. Thankfully, she didn’t call her out, but Olivia knew that wouldn’t last for forever. She really needed to get her shit together and act normal, or this could turn into a disaster of an evening. 

-000-

When Noah woke up, he immediately regretted the bottle of water he drank right before bed. He sat up, but everyone was still sound asleep. He glanced at his watch, and groaned internally. Five thirty. He laid back down and tried to go to sleep, but his bladder became insistent. 

He pushed his sleeping bag down his legs in frustration. It was cold and dark, and the last thing he wanted to do was find a place to pee. 

Once he realized he wouldn’t be sleeping unless he relieved his bladder, he slid his boots on and grabbed his flashlight. He glanced over his shoulder when he reached for the tent zipper. Elliot, Dickie, and Eli were still fast asleep. Noah knew Elliot had a rule about making sure someone knew where you were at all times, but Noah wasn’t sure that counted when everyone was sleeping and he wasn’t venturing too far from camp. 

Ultimately, he decided he would be so fast it wouldn’t be worth waking anyone. It wasn’t like he wanted to go on some crazy exploration anyway. He wanted to pee as quickly as possible and return to the warmth of his sleeping bag. 

He reached for the zipper, pulling it slowly so it wouldn’t make much noise. He kept his flashlight off until he had slid through the tent's opening. He silently zipped it shut, knowing if he left it open for even a couple minutes to do his business, bugs and spiders could find their way in. 

Once the tent was zipped shut, he flipped his flashlight on and started down the short path to the tree line. The predawn light provided enough light to get around, but something about bringing the flashlight along made him feel safer. 

He stepped into the trees, not far but a little ways away from where he had been the previous morning. He remembered the braided bracelet he found and stuck his hand in his pocket to make sure it was still there. Sure enough, his fingers found the textured leather. His eyes drifted to where he found the bracelet, and he thought about going back just to see if there was anything else left behind. There probably wouldn’t be, but there was something mysterious about the simple bracelet, and part of him wanted to see if there were any clues to who it might belong to. It was a silly thing to think about, he knew that. The odds of finding its owner were slim, but Noah liked stories and puzzles, and maybe there would be more there to supplement the narrative he had created in his mind. 

It would only take a moment, and it was getting lighter by the minute. He wasn’t going far; he would literally be within shouting distance of camp. He probably wouldn’t have time to look around until much later, and no one would know about his extra excursion anyway. 

He quickly peed and flashed the flashlight in the direction of where he found the bracelet. He kept the beam low to the ground. It was getting lighter, but it was still difficult to differentiate the unevenness of the terrain. 

When he reached the spot he had been the day previous, he moved his flashlight a little beyond the closest trees. The trees were pretty tight in one direction, so he swept his beam over the forest floor in the opposite direction. He didn’t see anything interesting beyond some exposed tree roots. He shrugged. It was a silly thought anyway. He hadn’t really believed there would be anything else interesting among the trees. 

He turned to leave, but as his light swept past the thickly grown together trees, something looked out of place. He honestly couldn’t see what it was, but from where he stood, it was obviously something inorganic. He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of camp. Whatever he saw couldn’t be more than fifteen steps deeper into the woods. It was probably a chip bag or some other garbage, but he knew if he didn’t check, then he would be thinking about it all day. 

Without another thought, he moved deeper into the shadows. His heart pounded, but he reminded himself that no one else was here, and if he needed anything, he could yell, and a trio of Stablers would come to his aid. There wasn’t anything to be afraid of. 

Don’t be a baby, he told himself. Just be brave. 

He moved closer to the object. He could tell it was something white but couldn’t make out much else. He ventured closer, and his stomach sank to his feet. There was no way he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. His mind had to be conjuring some fear-based hallucination because there was no way what he was seeing was real. 

The white object was an athletic shoe... an athletic shoe attached to a person laying lifeless on the forest floor. 

-000-

Chapter Text

Elliot!” The voice in his head felt foggy and far away. He rolled onto his side, eyes still closed. “Elliot! Help!” The second cry jarred him awake. He sat up, feeling frantic. His eyes darted around, and sure enough, Noah wasn’t lying peacefully in his sleeping bag. 

“Shit!” He flipped the sleeping bag off of himself and tore out of the tent in the direction of the voice. The freezing ground froze his socked feet as he rushed in the direction of Noah’s voice.

 “Noah!” He bellowed in the direction of the trees. 

“Over here! Oh God, hurry, please!” His voice shook with panic. Elliot’s heart pounded relentlessly, and he felt the familiar surge of adrenaline running through his veins.

Elliot crashed into the trees; follow in the direction of Noah’s voice. Somewhere behind him he heard Dickie’s and Eli’s footsteps. 

He stopped when he didn’t immediately see Noah among the trees. “Noah!” He called again. 

“Here!” He yelled back. 

Elliot rushed towards Noah’s voice and continued to run until Noah’s curly hair came into view. He was sitting on the ground, and he appeared perfectly fine. It wasn’t until he completed his visual assessment of Noah that he noticed the petite body lying next to him. 

“Wha?” He didn’t get the word out because Noah’s panicked explanation began spilling out. 

"I... I think she’s still alive. Look,” he stammered. Noah pointed to the girl's chest, and sure enough, there was a barely discernible rise and fall to her chest. “I checked her pulse. I think, I think I found one, but she’s really, really cold.” 

Elliot rushed over and kneeled on the other side of the girl's body. Noah had a death grip on the girl’s fingers, but Elliot had enough space to make a rough assessment. 

The girl appeared to be a young preteen. Ten or eleven, maybe? He noticed dried blood covering her face. He brushed her hair away from her forehead, revealing a large laceration.

The crunch of dirt and rocks beneath boots grew closer as Dickie and Eli rushed toward them. They skidded to a stop when they took in the scene in front of them. Elliot didn’t have much time to explain, not like he had a lot of information himself. Regardless, this child was alive, and she needed immediate medical attention.

“Dickie. Jog up the hill where there is service and call 911. Tell them we are bringing in a hypothermic child with a severe head wound.” When Dickie froze Elliot barked out, “Go!”

Once he took off, Elliot's eyes moved to Eli. “Turn on the truck and crank up the heat. She’s freezing, and we need to get her warmed up now!” 

Eli’s eyes widened at the sudden seriousness of the situation before he ran off in the direction of the truck. 

Once both boys were gone, Elliot returned his attention to the girl laying lifeless on the ground. He began talking Noah through what he was checking, hoping to soothe some of Noah’s obvious panic.

“That head wound looks bad, but it’s not bleeding anymore, which is good.” Noah nodded with his hand still gripping the girl's frozen fingers. Elliot noticed how loose one of her shoulders looked. “I think her shoulder is dislocated; we are going to have to be very careful when we move her.” 

“Are we supposed to move her?” Noah asked, blue eyes glistening with tears. “In health class, they said never to move someone who’s injured until paramedics get there.” 

Elliot nodded. “That’s true in the city, but it's different out here. It will take too long for an ambulance to get here, and there wouldn’t be a good place for a life-flight chopper to land. We are going to do our best to keep her as stable as possible, but we have to get her out of here as soon as we can.” 

Elliot continued his physical assessment. He lifted the girl's shirt enough to expose her belly button, and his stomach turned. “Shit,” he muttered. 

“What?” Noah clamored up a little so he could see what he was looking at. 

Dark, fresh bruising darkened her lower belly button. “That bruise means she is still bleeding on the inside,” he explained. He lightly pressed on the spot with the most discoloration. Sure enough, her belly felt tight. He lifted her shirt a little more to expose her ribs. The bruising discoloration continued up her rib cage. Based on the depressed skin in one area, he suspected a severe rib fracture. They needed to get this girl out of here. Now. 

“Noah. I need you to get your sleeping bag.” Elliot ran through the items on their packing list, trying to think of something they could lay her on that would keep her stable during the winding drive down the mountain. The only thing he could think of was the small food prep table. “Go get that sleeping bag. We need to get her as warm as we can, okay?” 

Noah’s eyes dropped to the girl, and his hand tightened on hers. Elliot understood the hesitation to leave her, but he couldn’t take care of Noah’s feelings right now. Not when this girl’s life was literally hanging by a thread. “Go!” He barked. 

With tears rolling down his cheeks, Noah nodded and rushed out from the cluster of trees. As he left, Dickie jogged back over. 

“EMS is headed this way. I gave ‘em a description of our truck; hopefully we’ll meet them somewhere in the middle so they can get her in an actual ambulance.” 

“Great. Good.” Elliot’s mind raced. “Fold the legs down on the prep table. We gotta keep her steady before we get her in the truck.” 

“Got it. I’ll bring it over.” He ran back in the direction of the campsite. 

“Sanitize it!” He yelled after him. 

Elliot returned his attention to the child on the ground. “Come on, baby girl. You got this. Come on.” He pulled off his coat and draped it over her. It might not do much, but it would at least shield her from some of the early morning chill. He felt otherwise helpless. Images of a rescue pulling Clem’s body from a ravine continued to force their way into his thoughts, but he couldn’t feel his feelings right now. Compartmentalize. He had to turn it off and default to his training. He wasn’t an EMT, but years in law enforcement provided a necessary fluency in emergency first aid. 

Frantic footsteps lumbered back through the trees. Both Dickie and Noah were returning with their needed items. Noah looked awful, and Elliot knew that this was utter hell for him. He hated that his youngest boy had to live through something like this twice.

Dickie dropped the table on the ground next to the girl and slid in next to Elliot. “What now?” He asked breathlessly. 

“Where’s Eli?” Elliot wondered aloud.

“Clearing the backseat of the truck. We still had a bunch of crap in there from the ride up.” Dickie answered quickly. 

Elliot nodded and reached out for Noah’s sleeping bag. He unzipped it most of the way so it would be easy to slide up her body. “We gotta keep her as still as possible, okay?” 

Both of his kids nodded and waited for more instructions. “Dickie, I need you to stabilize her neck while Noah helps me lift her enough to slide her into the sleeping bag.” 

“Okay,” Dickie said as the all shuffled positions. He took his place at her head. Holding her jawline and neck so he could keep her neck as straight as possible.

Once he was sure Dickie was ready, Noah helped him slide the sleeping bag over her body. Elliot zipped the sleeping bag all the way up before giving more instructions. “Noah, I need you to switch with Dickie. It’s really important that her neck stays still. Dickie and I are going to lift her onto the table, but I need you to hold her head. Can you do that?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Noah’s voice was shaking, but he seemed sure. Elliot met Noah’s eyes. “Take a breath. You’ve got this, okay?” 

Noah bit his lip, and Elliot knew he was trying to keep his emotions under control. He took a slow breath and fisted his hands a couple of times to steady his hands. He mimicked Dickie's previous position, eyes remaining completely focused on the girl’s face. “Ready,” he finally breathed out. 

“Okay, on three.” He made sure their eyes were on him as he counted. “One, two, three.” They all simultaneously lifted and easily got her on the table. 

“Dickie, give me your jacket.” He reached for his that had been cast aside before slipping the girl in the sleeping bag. 

He complied quickly, and he used the arms of the jackets to tie her to their makeshift spinal stabilization board. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best they could do. 

“Let’s get her to the truck. Remember, we gotta keep her still, so let’s do this quick but steady, alright?” 

“Yeah,” Dickie said breathlessly. “I can do that.” 

This situation was unfathomable, but he was really proud of his oldest son’s composure under this pressure. He hadn’t ever seen him like this, and it was incredible to watch. 

Just then, Eli came tearing through the trees. “Truck is ready! I have the heat blasting.” 

Elliot glanced over to Noah, who still had his hands on the other child’s head. He turned back to Eli. “Get Noah in the truck. Dickie and I will carry her over.” To Elliot’s surprise, Noah didn’t move. His eyes remained on the girl. 

“Come on, Noh!” Eli urged anxiously. 

“I’m staying with her,” he said stubbornly. His bright blue eyes lifted, and Elliot saw a stubbornness that was so unlike him. 

“We will be right behind you, bud.” Dickie tried convincing him. 

Noah still seemed unsure, so Elliot added, “You can sit in the back with her. We need someone to keep her head still, but I need you to get in first, okay?” 

Noah’s eyes drifted to the girl's limp body and then back to Elliot. He looked like he might continue his defiance, but he took a slow breath and released his hold on her. He took one more breath and tore his eyes away from her face. “Okay. I’m coming.” 

He and Eli jogged to the truck. Eli had parked it right against the tree line so they could more easily load her into the backseat. 

With the boys out of the way, he returned his focus to transporting her to the truck as smoothly as possible. 

“Ready?” He prompted Dickie. 

“Yes,” Dickie replied firmly. 

With another countdown, they lifted the table and moved towards the truck slowly. It felt excruciatingly slow, but he couldn’t let either of them trip on their short journey to the truck. Navigating the tree roots proved challenging, but they managed to keep her body still as they slid the table into the back seat. 

Noah looked to Elliot for reassurance as he held the girl’s head still. Elliot nodded his reassurance. 

“Eli, sit on the floor and make sure the table doesn’t slide.” He immediately hopped in the truck and sat on the floor, hands moving to the table’s edge to keep it steady. Elliot slammed the truck door and jumped into the driver’s seat. 

Elliot took a breath. They got her in the truck, and she was still breathing. Unconscious, but breathing. He glanced over his shoulder once more and sent a silent prayer heavenward that she would survive this trauma. For her sake, and for the boys’. If she died, he wasn’t positive any of them would get past it.

-000-

Chapter Text

She made it to the hospital. They met the ambulance at the bottom of the mountain and quickly transferred her into the more medically prepared vehicle. Noah begged to accompany her in the ambulance, but there was no way Elliot was going to agree with that. Still, Noah didn’t want her to be alone, so Dickie ended up riding with her to the hospital. 

The rest of them trailed behind the ambulance, arriving at the hospital a couple minutes behind the emergency vehicle. Noah unblocked his seatbelt the moment Elliot put the truck in park, but before he could sprint into the emergency room, Elliot intercepted him. 

“Hey buddy,” he kept his voice low. “The paramedics have her now, and we need to take a minute to slow down.” 

Noah seemed to be buzzing with energy, and Elliot realized the kid’s fight or flight response was still in control. He needed to find a way to bring him back down. He needed to make Noah feel safe. 

Elliot held Noah firmly despite his attempts to squirm out of his grasp. “Elliot!” He snapped. “We need to get in there! We can just stand here!” 

Elliot’s grip remained firm but not bruising. “We can, Noah. We gotta slow down. I need you to look at me, please?” 

Noah resisted for a moment longer before finally meeting Elliot’s gaze. If the situation didn’t suck so bad, Elliot would laugh. The defiance in Noah’s eyes felt very familiar, and he had been on the receiving end of that stare many times. 

“We’ve done what we can do. I need you to take a breath for me.” Elliot half expected Noah to tell him off, but instead his eyes welled with tears. 

“What if things go bad? What if she’s just like Clem and, and, she doesn’t make it?” 

Elliot palmed the back of Noah’s skull and pulled him into a hug. “We will cross that bridge if we have to, Noh. But you did good. If you hadn't found her, she wouldn’t have survived. Whether she makes it or not, you have her a chance.” 

Noah’s tears wet Elliot’s shirt as he sobbed. Elliot pulled the boy tighter, silently hating himself for inadvertently putting Noah through something like this again. 

Elliot glanced up to see Eli lingering on the periphery, his hands tucked deep in his pockets. This situation was probably wrecking him too, but he managed to maintain a more stoic exterior. Elliot reminded himself to check in with Eli later. He didn’t want his son to feel like his emotions didn’t matter, but for now the younger child’s emotions took precedence. He hated that it had to be that way, but parenting multiple children was a screwed up sort of triage.

Eventually, Noah’s sobs receded into smaller sniffles. Elliot loosened his hold, and Noah pulled back. “I, I think I’m okay now. I mean okay as I can be.” His eyes seemed bluer when glistening with tears. “Can we go in now?” 

Elliot nodded. "Yeah, let’s go. We need to track down Dickie and see if we can get an update.” 

Elliot mentally added calling the forest service to his list. If this wasn’t foul play, then the child had a family that may be in danger too. They needed to search the area. 

He also needed to call Olivia, and he knew that call was not going to go well. 

The emergency room doors slid open, and Elliot scanned the room for Dickie. He spotted him tucked in the back corner of the room. The area sat largely abandoned since the other emergent cases tended to huddle near the reception desk. Elliot assumed the other patients hoped to ensure their spot in line and make sure nurses remembered they were still there. 

The abandoned corner suited him just fine, and he led the boys toward the near silent corner. Dickie stood when they approached. “Hey,” he greeted while stuffing his hands nervously in his pockets. 

Noah didn’t waste any time seeking out an update. “Is she okay?” His hope-filled heart made Elliot’s heart clench in his chest. 

Dickie rocked from his heels to the balls of his feet nervously. “I don’t know really. She stayed unconscious the whole way here, but they got her body temperature up.” 

“That’s good,” Elliot murmured. 

“Yeah. They said there’s lots of blood in her belly. They told me things will be touch and go until they find the source.” 

Noah nodded silently, and Elliot ushered him toward the chairs. "Well, we might as well sit. We might be here a while.”

They all found seats, but Elliot remained standing. He needed to make some calls. He needed to get the local PD filled in, and the forest and wildlife guys needed to start looking as soon as possible for this girl’s family. 

And he needed to call Olivia. 

The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could focus on the boys. 

“You guys stay here.” He met Dickies gaze. “Keep track of them. Find me immediately if you get any updates, okay?” 

“Yeah, I got it.” Dickie said with a nod. 

“I’m going to step outside and call the people who need called, and then I’ll be back.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket and pulled out some bills. “If anyone gets hungry, there’s probably a cafeteria or vending machines or something.” None of them had eaten anything since last night, not that anyone had an appetite right now. 

“We will probably just stay right here, but one of us can figure out food if we have to,” Dickie said while reaching for the cash. He stuffed it in his pocket before his eyes drifted to Noah, who appeared to be hanging on by a thread. “Hurry, Dad,” he urged him quietly. 

“I’ll be right back,” he breathed out. This day had already been exhausting, and it was nowhere close to being over. 

❤️Twinner Winner chat🏆

D: Well… That was the camping trip from hell…

L: Come on. You’re a grown man; you’d think you could get along with your kid brother for one weekend.

D: I'm not gonna lie. Eli texted his girlfriend at every opportunity, and it annoyed the hell out of me, but that’s not the problem. 

L: What then?

D: Noah found a body in the woods this morning. A girl. She’s alive. Barely. 

L: Oh my god! 

D: Yeah, so, much worse than Eli being sulky. 

L: Is Noah okay? Shit. Liv is going to lose it. Like bad. Has anyone called her?

D: Not sure anyone is brave enough for that.

L: Are you serious!? One of you needs to call her NOW! 

D: Relax, okay. Dad’s calling the forest service guys, and based on the look of utter dread on his face, he plans to call Liv after that. 

L: She’s gonna kill him. 

D: She’s more rational than that. 

L: Uh, wasn’t it you that traumatized me by showing me that YouTube video of what happened to the guy who got between the mama bear and her cubs? 

D: Point taken. 

D: But it’s not like it was Dad’s fault. 

L: It’s not going to matter. She’s going to be pissed you all put Noah in a traumatic situation. 

D: Oh man. This is gonna suck more than it already does. 

L: Yep. 

L: Call me in a bit, yeah? Once you know what’s going on? 

D: You just want to know how bad Liv rips into Dad. 

L: Yes. But I also want that girl to make it. I’m not a monster. Let me know how it goes, and tell Noah to call me if he needs to talk to someone for a little bit. 

D: I will. 

-000-

Dickie locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket. He glanced over to check on the others. Eli was annoyingly texting someone, probably his girlfriend, and Noah’s head had dropped into his hands while he stared at the floor. 

He leaned in and lightly bumped Noah’s shoulder with his. “Doin’ okay, Noh?” 

Noah took a shaky breath before lifting his head to meet Dickie's eyes. “Yeah. I just hate sitting here. I want to know what’s going on.” 

Dickie noted how puffy and red Noah’s eyes appeared. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen the normally even-tempered kid so distraught. “Yeah, it sucks,” he said lamely. “When Dad gets back, I’ll check in with someone.” 

Noah nodded silently and returned his focus to the linoleum floor. 

Dickie felt like he should keep the conversation, if for no other reason but to pass the time, but he struggled to come up with anything appropriate to talk about. “How’s school been?”

Noah shrugged. “Good. I’ve got a friend in all my classes, so that’s cool.” 

“That makes the classes better.” 

“Yeah,” he replied flatly. 

He was killing it at this conversation. “Liz says to call her if you need to talk to someone.” 

That made him perk up a little. “You talked to Lizzie?” 

“Yeah, I mean, I was just texting her. She’s worried about you. She wants you to be okay.” He bumped Noah’s shoulder again. “We all kind of love you, kid.” 

“I know,” he admitted. “I’m not the one to worry about right now.” He sighed. “Has anyone called my mom?” 

“Uh,” Dickie hesitated, “Dad was going to after he got things squared away with the forest guys.” 

Noah’s fingers dug into his hair. “She’s going to completely lose it.” 

“Probably,” Dickie said matter-of-factly. 

“I don’t want her to blame Elliot.” He leaned back in his chair and dropped his hands onto his thighs. 

“Yeah, you don’t have control over that. Sorry dude.” There was no way they would make it out of this mess without Liv being totally pissed at his dad. No way. 

Noah sighed. “I know. I just. I don’t want them to fight because of me. I like having you guys around and Elliot. I don’t want that to change.” 

“Why would that change anything?” 

Noah shrugged but didn’t answer. Too bad Dickie wasn’t going to let him stew in silence. “No, seriously, why do you think any of this changes anything?”

Noah stared at his fingers as he picked a stray burr out of his jeans. “I don’t know. I guess, I mean, my mom is kinda used to being on her own. I’m always scared she’s going to find a reason to push Elliot away, and then I won’t be with you guys anymore.” 

Dickie closed his eyes as he thought out a response. This was one of those times he desperately wanted to say the right thing, but usually he didn’t. 

“Look at me, Noh” Noah complied reluctantly. “First, my dad has loved your mom for as long as I can remember. Okay?” He waited until Noah nodded, so he knew he had driven that first point. “The next thing is, your mom and my dad have been partners for... forever really. They have had some pretty crappy fights, but they always find a way to work out.” 

Noah leveled a heavy gut punch. "Yeah, but Elliot left. For a long freaking time, and I know he’s promised he’s not leaving, but what if he does? I mean, I love my mom, but she is really good at pushing people away. What if she pushes too hard? What if he leaves because of me? Because I wanted to go on this fishing trip, or because I was stupid and went out by myself? What if I’m the excuse she needs to push all of you away?” 

Damn. That was heavy, and Dickie felt ill-equipped to answer any of Noah’s concerns. Hell, he still didn’t have a firm grasp on his father's reasons for taking off the first time. Still, he knew his father, and he knew that he would fight for Olivia—for Noah—until the day he died.

“I think you need to talk to my dad about a lot of this, but I can tell you what I know, okay?”

“Okay,” Noah answered softly. 

“I don’t know all the reasons why my dad left back then, but I’m pretty sure those reasons don’t exist anymore.” Dickie smirked. “Your mom might be good at pushing people away, but my dad is good at stubbornly holding onto people. I don’t think your mom could shake him off at this point, and I’m not sure she would actually try. Adults fight, and sometimes they have big blow ups. It doesn’t mean anyone is leaving.” 

Noah bit his lip, and Dickie knew the kid was trying to keep his emotions under control. He didn’t want Noah to think he needed to have that stiff upper lip; it hadn’t done Dickie any good in his life, and he didn’t want Noah to think he had to be tough for Dickie to love him. 

He wrapped his arm around Noah’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. “I don’t think our parents are gonna split...ever, but if it ever did happen, it wouldn’t change anything with us kids. There’s no way out now, you’re one of us. You’re always gonna be our baby brother.” 

-000-

Chapter Text

Olivia started her run later than she planned. The girls had kept her out pretty late, and by some miracle she didn’t get called into work before the crack of dawn, so she slept in a little. It felt heavenly, but she always felt a little antsy after sleeping in. 

She made it a little more than a mile down her favorite running path when her phone began buzzing in her pocket. When she pulled her phone from her leggings’ pocket, Elliot’s picture and contact information flashed across the screen. Her stomach flipped. It felt a little early for Elliot to be calling. He told her he would call when they headed out, but it would most likely be in the late afternoon. It was only 10am. Something about the early, unplanned call made her nervous. 

“Hey,” she answered, completely out of breath. 

“Hey,” he returned. “Late run this morning?” 

“Yeah,” she huffed. 

“The girls keep you out late last night?” 

His small talk was killing her, but she went along. 

She lifted her watch to check her heart rate. “Maureen left early. The boys had football or something. I ducked out before Lizzie and Katie, but it was still pretty late.” She slowed down to a brisk walk. “It was fun though. I don't get to spend time with just the girls.” 

“Yeah, well, Dickie does like to suck as much attention as possible.” 

She laughed lightly. “True.” 

A heavy pause filled the air as he prepared to say what he needed to say. A heavy sense of foreboding fell over her, leaving her heart pounded mercilessly and not from her run. Something felt wrong. 

“Liv,” he started. The tone of his voice was enough to immediately stop her in her tracks. Her stomach sank as every worst-case scenario paraded through her mind. 

“What happened?” She deliberately tried masking the nervous tone in her voice, but she wasn’t successful. 

Elliot hesitated, and she wanted to yell at him to get on with it. As if he read her impatience, he jumped in. “Everyone’s okay. I need you to realize that, okay? I'm good; the boys are good; Noah is good.” 

As comforting as that was, something was wrong, and she didn’t want to spend anymore time pulling it from him. 

“Okay?” Her voice oozed suspicion. “Just tell me what’s going on, El.” She didn’t bother trying to curb her agitated tone. 

“Yeah, okay.” She could almost see him sweating out whatever it was. He always nervously rubbed the back of his head when he was nervous. He was probably pacing. 

“Um, we, uh, this morning we found a... we found a girl,” he finally spit out. 

That sounded interesting, but relatively benign. She waited for the shoe to drop. 

"She, uh, she was in, is in pretty bad shape. I... uh...we thought she might be dead, but then we saw her breathing.” 

Her mind immediately conjured images of the last little girl she had searched for in the shadowy darkness of the trees. Another child, a year ago, one that didn’t make it.

She already felt a buzz of adrenaline hitting her system, making her palms sweat. “You keep saying we. Who found her, El?” 

Somewhere in the background of his call, she heard his footsteps stop. “Noah. Noah found her.” 

Her stomach dropped, and she felt herself reacting without thought. 

“Send me the pin.” It was an order, not a request. “I’m coming to get my son.” She turned around and began speed walking in the direction of her apartment. 

“Hey, wait just a second.” The forcefulness of his voice startled her, and she stopped walking. “I want you up here, but I don’t want you to scoop him up and fall off the grid.” 

She scoffed. “I’m not the one who goes off grid, Elliot.” 

She always knew where to level her blows, and part of her realized it was a cheap shot, but she couldn’t stop herself. She told herself she had forgiven him for all the times he fell off the face of the planet, but in this heated moment she wanted to lash out at whatever grievance she could find.

“That’s not fair, and that’s not. God Liv! He’s okay right now, but you haven’t seen him with this girl! If you take him now, he’s not gonna have any closure with this, and I think he’s going to need it no matter which way this goes.”

She felt her grip tighten on her phone. “I don’t need to see him to know this is a shitty situation, and he needs to come home. I mean, why would he stay there? He doesn’t know this girl, and the longer he stays, the more devastated he’ll be if the worst happens!” She groaned and began walking briskly back towards her apartment. “Don’t you get it? He’s gotta be so triggered right now, and all you want to do is let him stew in it. He’s my son, Elliot, mine, and I’m making this call. He’s coming home.”

Deafening silence was the only response from the other end of the call. For a moment, she wondered if he had hung up on her. Just to be sure, she pulled the phone away from her ear, but the call was still active. 

As the silence dragged on, her words echoed through her mind, and remorse came rolling in like a freight train. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just, God, I can’t believe this is happening. Again. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” he responded tersely. It clearly wasn’t fine. 

“El,” she tried, but he cut her off. 

“I’ll send you the pin and make sure he’s ready to go when you get here.” His voice didn’t sound right. His normally warm, rumbly voice had tightened into a hoarse whisper.

“Elliot,” she tried again.

“It’s fine, Liv,” he snapped. “You made yourself pretty clear. Come get your son.” 

“I didn’t mean,” she started, but he didn’t let her finish. 

“It’s fine. Just text me when you’re close.” He paused briefly. “See you soon.” 

Then he ended the call. 

She dropped her hand to her side and resisted the urge to throw her phone against the sidewalk. 

Why the hell did she say that? She knew Elliot loved Noah like he was his own child. For the past year he had been a father for Noah, and she just tossed him aside as if his efforts from the previous year meant nothing. 

It was just that this whole thing felt like the worst sort of Deja vu. Another injured girl. Another life and death situation. And her son was caught in the middle once again. 

She stepped into her apartment and grabbed her keys. She didn't bother with a shower. She needed to get her boy—all her boys.

-000-

Elliot tossed his phone onto the nearby bench roughly. That woman knew where to land her punches. He paced back and forth, trying to find some semblance of calm. He needed to get his shit together because the boys would feel his anger the second he stepped back into the hospital. 

Her words repeated in his mind like a painful hiccup. 

He’s my son, and I’m making this call.

Her son. It was the truth, but the words still cut him deeply. It was a painful reminder that if she wanted, she could take Noah—and herself—out of his life, and he couldn’t do anything about it. 

My son. 

He thought about the ring hidden under meaningless toiletries in his bathroom drawer. He wanted them to be a family, in the more traditional sense. He wanted to marry her, and down the line, he wanted to adopt Noah. That is, if it was something Noah wanted. 

However, her words left him wondering if the whole thing was a pipe dream. An impossible dream. He thought they had built something during the year they’d been together, but in one conversation she reminded him how fragile everything was. 

She could leave him, and there wasn’t anything he could do to make her stay. 

He sat on the bench. The freezing metal chilled him through his jeans. He dropped his head in his hands and tried to breathe out his frustration and fear. He reminded himself that she didn’t mean what she said. She was just scared, and when Olivia got scared, she lashed out. Still, the venom of her biting words stung. 

Soon enough, his slow breathing allowed his muscles to relax a little. She was on her way. He would make sure Noah was ready to go, and once things settled down—once they found the girl’s family—he would go home, and things could be normal again. 

He planted his hands on his knees and pushed himself off the bench. He needed to find the boys. He shook off the hurt and anger and started towards the ER doors.

The boys were exactly where he left them. Same chairs. Same positions. Same worried faces. 

Just as he approached, they were met by a nurse in gray scrubs. “You’re the group that brought the Jane Doe in?” 

They all nodded, but none of them spoke. 

“Dr. Adam’s should be here shortly,” she said as she looked over her shoulder. An official looking guy in scrubs came around the corner, and she pointed her pen in his direction. "Actually, that’s him.” She took a step back as the doctor approached the group. 

Dickie leaned forward, Eli threw his phone on the vacant seat, and Noah shot up from his seat, eager for any news. Elliot waved him over, so the boy now stood next to him. Whatever direction this took, he wanted Noah close. 

The doctor checked a couple notes in his tablet before tucking it under his arm. His eyes scanned the group until they fell on Elliot. He stuck his hand out, “I’m Dr. Adams. I’ve been working on the girl you brought in.” Elliot returned his handshake, and the doctor asked. “You’re law enforcement, correct? I spoke with our staff, and they said you were coordinating search efforts with our local officials?” 

“Yes sir. I’m Elliot Stabler. I’m a detective with the NYPD.” 

The doctor nodded. “I would like to speak with you separately if possible.” 

Before Elliot answered, Noah spoke out. “Is she okay?” Tears gathered in his eyes. “I just want to know if she’s okay.” 

Dr. Adams lips pulled into a half smile. “I’m sorry. I suppose there are a few things the whole group needs to hear. I apologize. She’s stable, and I think her prognosis is good, but we will need to watch her closely over the next couple days. She’s still under sedation, but we are hoping to wean her off of it soon.” His eyes drifted to Noah. “You found her?” Elliot wasn’t sure if the staff knew that information or if the doctor just intuited it himself. 

“Y…yes. I did.” Noah stammered. He tucked himself closer to Elliot’s side in a shy display that wasn’t characteristic of him. 

The doctor nodded. “You saved her life.” His eyes drifted across the group. “All of you. I doubt she would have made it another hour in the state she was in.” His gaze fell on Noah. “Good work.” 

Noah nodded and fell a step or so behind Elliot. Dickie motioned for Noah. “Come sit back down, Noh. I think the doctor needs to go over some stuff with dad.” 

Elliot gave his oldest son a grateful look. 

Noah complied easy enough, and Elliot followed the doctor to a vacant exam room. His conversation and concerns about Olivia were long gone when the doctor snapped the girls x-rays against the backlit screen. 

“I’m not sure how familiar you are with this sort of thing,” the doctor began. He circled a spot with his pen. “This is that obvious rib break. A rib shard clipped her liver when the bone fractured. That caused the slow bleed.” He shook his head. “But that’s not what I wanted to show you, not really.” 

Elliot leaned in so he could view the images a little closer. Suddenly, he understood why the doctor wanted to bring him in and why he wanted to know if he was law enforcement. 

When he looked past the obvious rib fracture, the pattern became obvious. This wasn’t this girl’s first rib fracture. Or her second. Elliot knew what he was looking at, and his stomach sank. This girl hadn’t been in some horrible accident. According to the x-rays, she had been—and likely still was—being abused. 

Chapter Text

“After seeing those old injuries in her rib X-rays, I ordered some more scans to see what we were dealing with. She has several healed arm fractures, and I took a look at her growth plates. We guessed her age to be ten or eleven when we brought her in, but her growth plates have nearly matured. I’d say she’s probably twelve or thirteen. She’s small, but based on her obvious injuries…” 

“Neglect,” Elliot finished. 

“Probably. Or purposeful withholding of food from a young age.” Dr. Adams turned the x-ray light off and slid the scans back into a folder. “I’m not sure what sort of cases you see in the city, but this is the worst case I’ve come across out here. We have a few elementary schools, but with abuse as obvious as this, it would have been noticed. I’m willing to bet the family probably never sent her to public school.”

Through the years, Elliot had become well aware of cases where even the worst sorts of abuse flew under the radar and remained unreported even under the supervision of overtired and overworked public school teachers. He wasn’t ready to eliminate the schools as a potential place to obtain the girl’s identity. 

“The local precinct should have some records of any CPS or DV reports in the area.” Elliot thought out loud. “I’ll check in with them. Maybe we will get lucky.” 

The doctor nodded. “We will cooperate as much as possible if they have record requests. They can be difficult to navigate, but we will do our best with what we can legally release.” 

“Thanks.” Elliot turned to leave the room, but as he reached for the door handle, Dr. Adams stopped him. 

“There is one... I guess you could call them a family... You might want to look into them.” 

Elliot released the door handle and turned back towards the doctor. His description of the non-family family was intriguing. “Yeah?” 

“Uh yeah. There’s a survivalist group that lives out there. I don’t know a lot about them. I try not to get involved with rumors, but maybe it’s something to look into.” 

Elliot made a mental note to check in with the locals to find out more about this "group." “Thanks doc.” He paused before reaching for the door again. “You’ll let us know when she wakes up? My…” my son, “Uh, my boy is, uh, he lost a friend a while back, and I think he’s pretty anxious over this girl. He’s pretty invested in her being okay.” 

“Of course. I think we will be weaning sedation in an hour, and we will go from there.” He scribbled something on a piece of paper and held it out in Elliot’s direction. “Here’s my personal number. Call if you have questions or pass it along to our local police guys. I’m sure you guys probably need to get back to the city, but I appreciate you taking the time to coordinate everything on this girl’s behalf.” 

Elliot nodded and took the paper from the doctor’s outstretched hand. He hadn’t given any thought to returning home yet, and while he knew he had zero jurisdiction in this rural town, he itched to work this girl’s case.

Elliot lifted the paper and gave him a quick nod, “Thanks.” 

-000-

Olivia was three unanswered calls deep when she finally pulled into the hospital parking lot. She tried to tell herself that he was probably drowning in coordinating calls with law enforcement and meeting with doctors on the girl's behalf. Still, he knew she was going to call. 

Maybe she was still a little touchy from their terse conversation earlier in the day, but it felt like he was deliberately dodging her calls. The whole thing left her feeling miffed and even more frustrated than when she left this morning. 

She sat in her SUV for a moment before turning the engine off, trying to mentally prepare for whatever messy nightmare was coming next. On the drive, she worked out an apology, but that wasn’t the only reason she wanted him to pick up the phone. She wanted more context. She needed more information so instead of reacting like she did earlier, she could actually proceed with full understanding of the situation. 

Her eyes drifted to the automatic doors at the entrance to the hospital. She stuffed her frustration down, knowing that there were obviously things she and Elliot needed to address, but now wasn’t the time. Their personal relationship had always been a field of active landmines, but their professional relationship worked like a well-oiled machine. Maybe she could default to their professional setting while working to hand off the case that had fallen into their laps. 

She finally turned the ignition off and reached for her door handle. Just as she began pushing the door open, her phone buzzed repetitively in her pocket. She stepped out of her SUV, wind catching her loose waves and tossing them across her face. Without seeing the screen, she lifted the phone to her ear and answered, “Benson.” 

“Hey, I’m sorry. I know you’ve called. I’ve just been trying to get this mess figured out.” 

She nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “I figured.” The wind blew through the phone speaker, and she knew he probably couldn’t hear her well. “Look, I’m here. We can talk once I’m inside.” 

“God, I didn't even see the time. I’m sorry.” He apologized again, but she understood. 

“It’s fine. Where can I find you guys?” 

“Cafeteria. I’m with Eli and Noah. We left Dickie in the ER in case they needed to find us.” 

“Okay. I’ll be there in a minute.” Another gust of wind kicked up the leaves at her feet. 

“I can’t hear you. I’ll see you in a sec. “ 

She ended the call and dropped her phone into her purse. She wrapped her arms around herself. The sun was out, but the wind seemed to carry the cold straight through her sweater. 

She jogged towards the hospital entrance and, once inside, tried to tame her hair a little. A few steps in from the doors was a campus map, so she moved closer to see where she could find the cafeteria. Her finger found the cafeteria, which appeared to be close, and she quickly followed the line from the entrance, quickly burning the short route into her brain. 

Part way down the hall, her phone pinged with a message. She stopped walking so she could dig the thing out of her purse. To her surprise it was from Elliot. 

E: Can I meet you in the hall? I need to talk to you about something.

E: I get it if you just want to take Noah and get out of here. I’ll make it quick. 

O: It’s okay. I’m out here now. 

She locked her phone and tossed it in her bag and waited for Elliot. In less than a minute, he emerged around the corner, stopping when he saw her. 

His hesitation gave her a chance to look him over, and he looked like he had walked through hell and back again. The haunted look in his eyes reminded her that Noah hadn’t been the only person who dealt with a trauma the previous year. Elliot had too. 

At nearly the same time, they moved toward each other until they met somewhere in the middle. He stopped at the last second, but she didn’t. She let her body fall into his, wrapping her arms around his torso. 

His arms snaked around her as he pulled her against him tightly. For a moment neither spoke, both reveling in the comfort the simple presence of the other person provided. 

She rubbed her hands up his back, noticing how tense the bulky muscles of his upper back seemed to be. She turned her head, and her lips inadvertently brushed the hollow of his neck as she spoke. “I’m sorry, I know he’s safe with you, I just...” 

He pulled her impossibly closer. “I get it. I do. It's just,” he sighed. “Truth hurts, I guess.” 

She wanted to challenge his idea of truth because the angrily spoken words of the morning were not their truth, but now wasn’t the time. She gave him one more tight squeeze before pulling back. “What did you need to talk to me about?” 

He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek briefly. His eyes worked over her face with an adoring expression that never failed to leave her breathless. Finally, he cleared his throat and stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides. 

“The girl made it.” 

Her hand pressed to her chest in relief. “Thank god.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But it’s not all good news. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I haven’t talked to the boys about any of it, but I need... I don’t know.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I guess I was hoping for some input from my partner.” His blue eyes lifted to her face, and his half smile brought out one of her own. 

“Alright.” She squared her shoulders. “Hit me with it, Stabler.”  

His boyish grin broadened until he pulled his phone from his. He sighed as he pulled up his photo reel. All flirtation was gone as he handed Olivia his phone. 

“I snuck some photos from the girl’s file. I wasn’t sure the doc would let me show you even though he already told me everything.” He hovered near her shoulder, and she zoomed in on the first x-ray. 

“Damn,” she muttered under breath. She didn’t need to be a medical professional to understand what the scans were showing her. This girl was being abused. Horribly. She scrolled over the next couple images before asking, “How old is she?” 

“Doc says thirteen. No younger than twelve.” 

Olivia zoomed in on the next scan, detailing several healed arm fractures. “Has anyone suggested a rape kit?” 

She felt Elliot tense next to her. No matter how experienced one was with SVU, it still felt wrong requesting a kit for a child. “I didn’t.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I should have thought of that. I mean these physical injuries alone."

She reached out and gripped his forearm lightly. “It’s fine, El. You’ve had a lot thrown at you in a short amount of time.” 

He blew out a slow breath. “That’s sort of why I wanted you to look at everything. I’m just, I’m out of practice with this, and let’s face it, you were always better with victims.” 

She didn’t try to contradict him, but her brow furrowed. “I want to help, but what’s the deal with the local department? Are they going to be territorial on this?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been in contact with them from the moment we got to the hospital. This city doesn’t have its own department. Just a sheriff's office with a couple deputies. I get the feeling they know they aren’t equipped for this and would like to pawn it off on a better organized department. They talked about contacting the department in the town twenty miles from here.” 

“Would they be open to having our team take a look? Sometimes these rural cowboys don’t want us anywhere near stuff like this.” 

To her surprise, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. He leaned in and kissed her temple. “I knew you’d be on board.” 

She shook her head. “Only if they want us on it. I’m not tangling myself in a jurisdictional fight that we would lose.”

“I’ll make sure they are all in, but I don’t think they will fight for this one.” He paused before adding. “I also think they want to avoid a confrontation with some apocalyptic group living in the mountains.” 

“Wait, what?” She wasn’t sure she heard him right. 

“Yeah, the doctor mentioned this survivalist group that lives a sort of nomadic existence on the federal land out there. I asked one of the deputies about it.” He chuckled. “I got the impression they didn’t want to go anywhere near that potential disaster.” 

She rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm for a case that could turn into a messy nightmare. Hell, if it involved crimes on federal land, then they might be pushed out by the Feds before the whole thing was over. “Do we want to be near it?” She asked seriously. 

His expression sobered and his hand sought out hers. “That girl,” his voice cracked, and he shook his head. “She deserves more than an understaffed team that doesn’t want to go to bat for her.”

Olivia nodded. He was right. Some powerful twist of fate dropped this case into their laps, and she’d be damned if she let the system fail this girl. 

“Okay. I’m in.” 

Chapter Text

Elliot and Olivia entered the cafeteria together. Noah sat at the table sucking down his second fountain drink when he finally looked up and noticed her approaching. 

“Mom!” He slid his soda away from him, and Eli skillfully caught it before it slid off the table and onto the floor. 

Noah practically crashed into Olivia, who eagerly wrapped him in a hug. She dropped a kiss on his head. “Hey baby.” 

He peeled himself away and began telling her something about the campout, but Elliot’s phone began to ping, so he turned away from the group and focused his attention on his device.

Dickie. 

D: Doc’s here. Says the girl’s awake. Wants to talk to you first. 

Elliot turned back around and glanced up from his phone. Noah and Eli were showing Olivia a few pictures from the lake, and she was responding with the appropriate oos and ahs. She must have felt his eyes in her because her eyes flicked away from the phone and in his direction. Without speaking, she nodded, as if she knew exactly what the message said. 

She took a step back and patted Noah’s back. “I’ll be right back.” Her eyes flit back in Elliot’s direction. “The doctor wants to check in with us.” 

Noah pushed his chair back as if he planned on tagging along. Elliot made eye contact with Olivia, hoping she had a good excuse to keep him here, at least for a while. 

Luckily, Eli came to their rescue. He must have noticed the mildly alarmed looks being passed between the adults in the room before he offered, “Noah, remember that game I was telling you about at camp? That app? I want you to try it. I think you’ll think it’s cool.” 

“I…I want…” Noah began to protest. 

Elliot gently cut in. “I need you to stay with Eli for a few minutes.” Noah opened his mouth to argue, but Elliot talked over him. “The hospital has privacy policies. The doctor can’t tell everyone all of her medical stuff. The doctor is going to give your mom and me the update, and then we’ll call Eli when you can come down there.” 

Noah folded his arms across his chest, and Elliot half expected the kid to call bullshit on the excuse—even if it was true. 

“Why can’t we just go sit with Dickie now? We're done eating anyway.” The request would have normally sounded benign, but the harsh edge to Noah’s voice made the request sound more like a demand. 

Noah had been insistent on remaining as close to this girl as possible, so his request didn’t exactly surprise Elliot, but his tone definitely caught Olivia off guard. 

While she generally subscribed to a more gentle parenting model, she had a low tolerance for insubordinate disrespect from her son. 95% of the time Elliot felt the same way, but he was more than a little aware of the abnormal amount of stress Noah had been under throughout the day, and he had planned on letting the demanding request slide. Olivia, on the other hand, visibly winced at her son’s blatant disrespect for Elliot’s request. 

“Noah,” she scolded. Elliot raised his palm to call her off, but she brushed him off. “I get that you have had a hell of a morning, but so has Elliot. If he says you need to stay here. Then you will be staying here. Got it?” 

“But mom!” He tried to argue, but Olivia didn’t budge. 

“Stay here with Eli. Once we figure out some things, we will call you guys, and you can get an update.” 

Elliot wasn’t sure why she was pushing this issue so much at the moment, but she had her reasons, and he learned a long time ago to back her play. 

“Just give us a few minutes, buddy. The doctor said she might be waking up soon, but we have to make sure everything is alright with her before letting you go in.” 

Noah’s eyes darted between the two parental figures in his life. Elliot thought Noah might make one final push, but instead he sat himself next to Eli with a huff. “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. 

“This won’t take long,” Olivia’s voice softened some once Noah appeared to comply. 

He still appeared offended but acknowledged his mother's words with a non-committal sounding, “Yeah, okay.” 

Once he was settled, Elliot led Olivia out of the cafeteria and in the direction of the ER. They had walked out of earshot when Elliot said, “He probably could have come to the ER at least.” 

“Maybe,” she agreed, “but you are the other significant adult in his life.” She sighed, “I’m his mother, but..." She changed directions a little. “He’s yours too. Even if it's not official.” 

He didn't want her to feel pressured into this conversation, and he definitely didn't want her to feel like he was vying for some sort of ownership of her only child. “Liv, we don't have to talk about this right now. I know that you didn’t mean anything by what you said.” 

She stopped walking and turned in his direction. He stopped as well when she lifted a gentle hand to his chest. “You're right, we can talk about it more later, but I need you to know how important you are to me,” she swallowed deeply, “and to him.” 

He covered her hand with his and lifted her knuckles to his lips. “I know.” When it came down to it, he did know. Despite his insecurities, he knew deep down they were in this together. For better or worse. 

He kept her hand in his as they passed through the double doors into the now bustling ER. Elliot glanced to the corner where their group had previously camped out, but the space was now crowded with what looked like a bachelor party gone wrong. The man of honor sported a huge gash on his head, and his buddies appeared to be out of their minds wasted. Their boisterous laughter began to catch the attention of some nurses, who looked less than amused by the whole scene. 

“Dad!” Dickies voice carried over the drunken laughter, and Elliot spotted him in the opposite corner, near a hallway of small exam rooms. Dr Adams stood on the other side of a counter, scrolling through charts on his iPad. 

Elliot tugged on Olivia’s hand and led her to where the doctor and Dickie stood. The doctor’s eyes lifted when Elliot finally made it through the crowded room. He let go of Olivia’s hand, readying them both for a more professional interaction. 

“Detective,” Dr. Adams greeted. His eyes drifted to Olivia, “and you are?” 

“Olivia Benson, I’m captain of Manhattan's special victims unit.” She tilted her head towards Elliot. “Detective Stabler said he came across a case that I might be able to help with.” 

It took a moment for the doctor to regain his train of thought. Elliot figured either her rank or overall beauty—probably both—intimidated the poor guy. The interaction left Elliot feeling a little nostalgic. After all, it wasn’t the first time Olivia Benson had reduced a self-assured, highly respected man into a stammering puddle of nerves. 

“Yeah, um, I’m glad you’re here. More eyes on this case couldn’t hurt.” 

Once he peeled his eyes from Olivia’s face, he motioned for them to follow him. Before they passed through a set of doors, Dickie stopped and poked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m going to keep track of the boys. Call me when you have something?” 

“Of course,” Olivia said with a grateful smile. She reached out and squeezed his arm affectionately before letting him go. “Thanks.” 

“I got you, Liv.” He winked before backing away. “I’ll keep Noah busy.” 

Without another word, Dickie dipped back into the busy ER. They returned to the task of following Dr. Adams to where the exam rooms gave way to another set of double doors. When they stepped through the doors, there was a waiting room with a smaller reception desk manned by a single nurse. On the other end of the room sat another set of doors with a plaque with the words Intensive Care printed on the surface. The waiting room was empty, and the silence felt strange after the unrestrained buzzing noise of the emergency room. 

Dr. Adams motioned for them to sit on a small sofa as he sat on the coffee table across from them. He pushed his glasses back up his nose before diving in. “I’m not sure how much background Detective Stabler was able to relay, but I’m certain we are looking at a severe case of child abuse.” 

Olivia nodded. Without bringing up Elliot’s off-protocol photos of the child’s medical file, she answered, “He filled me in on the basics.” 

“Good, good. We lifted sedation about thirty minutes ago. She was pretty combative coming out of it, but that’s not abnormal in a case like this.” 

“Her fight or flight reflex was probably still triggered,” Elliot said mostly to himself. 

“Exactly,” the doctor confirmed. “We’ve got her calm, but at this point she’s bordering on catatonic. She vauguly acknowledges the presence of another person, but she’s mostly silently staring into the corner of the room.” He continued, “I had a couple of our best pediatric nurses come in, but they weren’t successful in even getting her name. She probably needs a psych consult of some sort, but we don’t have anyone qualified on staff here, and she's not ready to be transferred to any other facility.” 

Elliot wished the hospital had at least a psych nurse on staff, but the limitations of a rural hospital were completely understandable. 

“I know you have indisputable evidence of physical abuse, but were you able to find any signs of sexual assault?” 

The doctor shook his head. “No obvious outward sexual trauma, but due to consent laws, I wasn't able to do anything more than a cursory visual assessment.” 

Elliot figured as much, but he felt at least some relief in the absence of obvious sexual trauma. 

“I believe she’s old enough to consent to a rape kit without parental permission, but in her current state, I doubt she will agree to anything as invasive as a full kit.” 

“Maybe not, but there are a few uninvasive things we can do to preserve even a minimal amount of evidence. I’ll provide your staff with a list of things they need to bag or hold on to for us.” 

The doctor nodded. “That would be helpful, thank you.” He glanced over his shoulder at the ICU doors. “I’m not sure how receptive she will be to more questioning adults, but I can let you try. At this point her name would be amazing and probably helpful for all of us, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” 

The funny thing was, if he was here with anyone else, he wouldn’t bother the girl this soon. But he wasn’t alone, and Olivia had an amazing track record with getting silent young women to speak to her. 

“Let’s give it a shot.” He turned his head towards Liv, making sure she was good to go in.

She agreed. “We won’t push her too hard. If she's not responsive, we can let her rest and try again tomorrow. She's been through a lot, and we don't want to make this situation scarier for her than it has to be.” 

“Good.” Dr. Adams pushed himself up from the coffee table. “I’ll show you back. I have a couple other cases I need to check in on, but she has a nurse assigned to her that should be able to help you with any basic questions.” 

“Thank you,” Elliot said sincerely as he reached for Olivia’s hand to help her up from the couch. 

“No, thank you guys for helping out with this.” They approached the double doors, and he added, “I’d hate for this to get swept under the rug. This kid deserves better.” 

“They all do,” Liv murmured in response. 

Dr. Adams led them silently down the quiet hallway. The only sounds were those of the different monitors in the rooms tracking each patient's vitals. The doctor slowed as they approached the correct room. “Room 172. Her nurse’s name is Heidi. She’s not in there right now, but she should be at the nurses station further down this hall.” He stepped out of the way, granting them access to the door. “Good luck.” 

Chapter Text

Olivia knocked lightly before slowly opening the door. She could feel Elliot directly behind her, his hand protectively ghosting her lower back. She stepped into the room first, and Elliot followed, but as she moved deeper into the space, he hung back. 

She glanced over her shoulder to see him leaning back against a counter with his hands clasped. She knew he was trying to make himself appear smaller and less intimidating for the victim, at least at first. The last thing this girl needed was some huge cop barreling toward her. Elliot knew how to play it and would approach when it wouldn’t startle or further traumatize the victim. 

Olivia remained mostly quiet, only making enough noise to alert the girl of her presence so she wouldn’t startle her when she approached. The staff had the girl laid mostly flat with several warming blankets draped over her body. Even beneath the blankets, the bulky support keeping her shoulder in place was visible. Gauze covered the corner of her forehead where Olivia suspected a severe head laceration lay hidden. 

As Olivia approached, she got a better view of the girl’s face. She was beautiful, but not in a traditional way. The hospital gown and blankets swallowed up her entire petite body, but all the dirt and grime had been removed from her face, illuminating a pair of wide blue eyes with thick dark lashes. Her skin was lightly tanned and littered with small abrasions. A small configuration of freckles lightly dotted her nose. The hospital must have done the best they could with her hair, but her inky black curls had been tossed around and matted in some areas, but something about those wild curls made her seem fierce. She was a survivor. 

Olivia spied a chair tucked near the hospital bed, and she pulled it over so she would be in the girl’s natural line of sight. From the doctor’s description, she half expected a vacancy behind her large eyes, but that couldn't be further from the truth. She appeared to be well aware of her surroundings, even if she refused to make active eye contact. 

She sat but didn’t force eye contact. “Hey,” she greeted gently. 

The girl blinked in response. 

“My name is Olivia.” She kept her voice light but not patronizing. “My friend Elliot is here with me.” 

The girl didn’t even try to move her head to find the other person in the room. 

“I know this is all... a lot, and it’s hard to see so many faces of people you don’t know, but I want you to know that my number one job is to keep you safe. I don’t know what happened to you before, but we’ve got you now, and you’re safe.”

Elliot’s phone received a notification somewhere in the background, but she ignored it and kept her focus on the scared pair of blue eyes welling with tears in front of her. 

“Liv, I'm sorry, but I gotta check on the boys.” 

Something registered in the girl's expression when she heard Elliot speak. A sort of recognition. Her head whipped around, making her wince at her own sudden movement. Elliot was reaching for the door, but his voice woke this girl up in a way she hadn't been able to with her quiet reassurances. 

“Elliot, wait.” 

He looked up from his phone, eyes quizzical, until he noticed how their victim was watching him. She recognized his voice. 

Olivia slowly stood up. “I need to speak with Elliot for a minute.” She made sure she met the girl’s eyes when she spoke. “Just a minute, okay?” 

The girl didn't answer, but there was a silent acknowledgement in her gaze. Olivia moved through the room quickly, grasping Elliot's forearm and tugging him towards the door. “What's going on with the boys? I think you should stay here.” 

The look on Elliot’s face was not at all reassuring. 

“What?” She prodded impatiently. 

“Uh, yeah, so Eli lost Noah. Dickie went to the bathroom. ” 

This could not be happening. “Are you serious!?” She could understand losing a six-year-old in a hospital, but Noah was turning thirteen in a couple weeks. “How the hell did they lose a teenage kid?” She whispered harshly. 

“I don’t know,” he snapped back. “Eli has never babysat anyone in his life; maybe he expected a preteen kid to stay put!” 

Olivia groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “Fine. I’ll go track him down. Stay with her.” 

She slipped through the door and resisted the urge to scream the second she made it into the hallway. What was Noah thinking? He knew they were all uptight right now, and he thought now would be the time to make some sort of great escape? She was pissed at her kid. She was pissed at Elliot’s kid. Hell, a small part of her was pissed at Elliot even though he had nothing to do with any of it. 

She was more than ready for this hellscape of a day to end. 

-000-

Elliot shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way to the edge of the bed. He unintentionally obtained more experience talking to traumatized kids last year, but pummeling crime bosses felt low stakes compared to something like this. It wasn't like he didn't spend thirteen years talking to victims, or raise five kids, for that matter. There was just so much more to lose when working with kids. So much more to screw up. 

He meandered to the chair where Olivia previously sat. “I'm sorry you're stuck with me. Liv is much better at this sort of thing.” The girl seemed a little more relaxed when he spoke, so he continued talking. “It's got to be weird having random people asking you to trust them. I'm probably more like you. People need to prove it to me first. Liv is like that too. I think people who have been hurt before don't really trust easily.” He shifted his weight a little to get more comfortable. “But you can trust Olivia. She’s helped a lot of people. Lots of kids and women who were hurt by other people.” 

Her blue eyes remained fixed on his face. It would be unnerving, but he understood that his voice was the only thing making her feel even a little safe. He had no idea what sort of hell this kid went through, but if he could provide at least one positive interaction with a male, he would feel successful. 

“You scared the hell out of all of us. I don't think you realize how grateful we are that you are alive. God,Noah. My kid lost a friend last year. It was really hard on him. Finding you brought up a lot of stuff for him. Me too, if i'm honest.” He shook his head, and his voice broke slightly. “I guess I'm just really really glad you are alive.” 

-000- 

By the time she met up with the boys, she was less mad and more scared. The hospital wasn't huge, but there were a thousand different places to look. When she made it back to the cafeteria Dickie rushed over. “I'm sorry, Liv. I had to go to the bathroom, and I was gone for like a second, and I THOUGHT he would be fine with Eli,” he glared in Eli’s direction. 

“This isn’t my fault,” Eli began defending himself. “He was playing on his phone across the table from me! What was I supposed to do? Stare at him the whole time we sat here?” 

"Well, you could have at least looked up from your phone for a second to make sure he was still there, genius.” Dickie was pretty pissed, but yelling at each other wasn't going to get them anywhere. 

“Enough,” her captain's voice effectively shut down the bickering. “Has either of you alerted the staff that he's missing?” 

“I just got back from letting the front desk know,” Dickie volunteered. 

“Great. They can keep an eye out for him while we look. What were you guys talking about before he took off?” She was hoping for any clue as to where he would take off to. 

“I told you, we were just playing games. We weren't talking.” Eli said in frustration. 

Dickie looked like he was about to get after Eli again, so Olivia tried to reroute him before the conversation devolved again. “What about you? What were you two talking about before you went to the bathroom?” 

Dickie closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think. “Uh, we were talking about Sarah and how I felt when she was in the hospital six months ago.” Olivia had forgotten that Dickie’s fiancee had been in the hospital unexpectedly a while back. She had been there a few days, and in the end they landed on a diagnosis of ovarian cysts, but she remembered how terrified Dickie had been at the time. 

“Anything else?” She prodded gently. 

“Um. We talked about the cafeteria food. Uh, and I think we talked about how the gift shop had some of the most random things, but I found this dumb plush toy as a gag gift sort of thing. I'm trying to think. I think that was it. Um. We might have talked about Sarah wanting a dog? I can't remember.” 

“No, no, that's good. Has anyone checked the gift shop? Where is that?” She glanced around, searching for a site map. 

“I think I saw it near the entrance when I went to grab something from the truck earlier.” Dickie started heading in the direction of the main entrance, Eli and Olivia trailing directly behind him. 

The shop wasn't far from the cafeteria, just through one set of double doors at the end of a short hall. The shop had a wall of windows on one side to display floral arrangements, toys, and blankets. Somewhere behind the display, Olivia thought she saw the top of Noah’s head. “I think he’s in there. You guys mind waiting here?” 

“Uh yeah, I’ll pass on that yell fest,” Eli impulsively muttered. 

Dickie smacked his shoulder. "Yeah, we are good. I'll let reception know we found him.” 

“Thanks,” she said as she speedily walked towards the entrance to the shop. 

The heat must have been cranked up in the store because when she opened the door, a flood of heat rushed through the door. The strong smell of an apple cinnamon candle made the air feel even more thick as she stepped through the displays. When she finally made it to the back of the store, she found Noah paying for whatever the cashier was handing him in a very pink gift bag. 

“Noah,” she called. 

He startled and flipped around. “Mom. Hey.” She wanted to scream at his nonchalant behavior. It was like he didn't even realize the panic he had caused. He took his bag from the cashier and walked to Olivia. “Whats up?” 

She mentally facepalmed. He had literally no idea that he scared the crap out of everyone. “Noah. You can't just run off without telling anyone! You scared me to death! You could have been anywhere!” She kept her voice low as she urged him towards the doors of the gift shop. 

“Im not a baby,” he scoffed. “I can go down the hallway without needing a chaperone.” 

She was getting a headache. "No, you can't. Not right now, okay? The boys didn't know where you went, and for all I knew someone could have taken you.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Mom. You let me walk to the bodega all the time. Im pretty sure there are more murderers in the city than out here.” 

“The bodega is literally across the street from the apartment, and you know that this is different.” 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I just wanted to get something, and I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I’m sorry.” She didn’t love his tone, but she decided not to push it. They were all running on high levels of stress, and she decided to let it go. 

She sighed and eyed the apparent gift he bought. “What did you get for her?” It was obvious who he had bought it for.

He shrugged. “It’s probably dumb.” 

“I’m sure it's great, baby.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulder as they walked. 

“It’s just a little stuffed animal. A Dalmatian. It looked cute, I don’t know. She probably doesn’t even like dogs.” 

“I’m sure she will love it. That was a really nice thing to do, Noah.” She didn’t condone scaring the crap out of everyone to do it, but it was still a nice gesture. 

“Do you think I could give it to her while she’s awake? 

“I don’t know, baby. She's pretty beat up and tired. I’m not even sure she will still be awake when I get back there. Maybe we should try for tomorrow.” 

“Please mom? I’ll be fast, and if she’s asleep then I’ll just wait, please?” His big blue eyes were pleading. “I just keep seeing her, laying on the ground in the trees. I’ll only stay a minute. I promise.”

She wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but maybe it would give him some peace of mind. “We can go see if she’s even up for an extra visitor, but if she is asleep or says no, then you will have to wait.” 

He surprised her with an impulsive hug. “Thanks.” 

-000-

Chapter Text

She was still awake when Olivia cracked the door open. Elliot was rambling about some argument had “idiot rent-a-cop” at the mall parking garage the other day. If the day hadn’t been the crappiest that it had been, then she might have laughed at the story he chose to tell a 13-year-old kid. The girl wasn’t talking, but she was clearly listening to Elliot’s retelling of quite possibly the most boring story ever.

Olivia poked her head in. “Hey, I’ve got one more visitor for the day. Mind if we come in?” 

Olivia was met with a wary look from the girl, but no panic or protest, so she stepped into the room with Noah tagging behind her. 

The girl's eyes widened in surprise, and Olivia wondered if the girl expected another adult stranger or medical professional to come in after her, but she clearly didn’t expect a kid her own age. 

Noah shyly ventured closer, and Elliot stood up and offered him the chair he had previously occupied. He sat and nervously held out the bag. “I..I got you something.” 

Her eyes lit up, but she didn’t speak. She didn’t move, and Olivia suspected she was probably too sore to move even her good arm.

“Noah, why don’t you help her open it? She’s pretty sore,” Olivia suggested. 

"Oh, okay,” he pulled at the tissue paper poking out of the bag. He returned his attention to the girl in front of him while pulling his chosen gift from the bottom of the bag. 

He held the small plush dalmatian with a heart dangling from its mouth. The words “get well soon” were printed over the front of the little red heart. 

The girl reached for the stuffed animal, wincing as her shoulder shifted. Olivia swore she saw tears welling in the other child’s eyes. 

Noah beamed the brightest smile she had ever seen, and her heart swelled with pride. 

Noah had no idea that they hadn’t gotten the girl to tell them her name, but he dove in with an introduction. “My name’s Noah.” 

Olivia expected the responding silence in return. What she didn’t expect was Elliot’s hand gripping hers when a couple beats later a whispered weed voice cut through the silence. “Hannah.” She wet her dry lips before she spoke a little louder. My name is Hannah.”

-000-

Olivia’s natural impulse was to swoop in and slowly build a rapport and maybe work towards some real answers, but she held herself back. None of the adults had gotten Hannah to utter a word, but in less than two minutes, Noah had gotten them a name. 

She felt Elliot shift beside her, pulling his phone from his pocket and hurriedly texting Hannah’s name to the loop of law enforcement. A last name would be helpful, but it could wait a bit. Noah had inadvertently broken the silent stalemate, and she hoped more information could be gleaned as a natural conversation ran its course. 

Noah shoved his hand into the pockets of his dusty jeans and fished out something that Olivia couldn’t quite identify. Hannah reached out to take the item that sat in Noah’s palm. 

“Is it yours?” He finally asked.

Hannah fisted the item while she blinked away tears. “I thought I lost it.” Her voice was still raspy and dry, cracking as she added. “My sister made it for me.” 

“It’s pretty,” Noah said. I like the bead she braided into it.” 

“Yeah. Teal was her favorite color.” 

Olivia easily picked up on the “was” in her statement and tucked it away for a later time.

“I’m glad I found it.” Noah rubbed the back of his head shyly. It was a behavior he picked up from Elliot, and it made her heart melt every time she saw him do it. 

“Me too,” she whispered as her eyes dropped to the braided band now clutched in her fist. She lifted her eyes back to Noah’s face. “Can you...could you help me put it back on?” 

“Of course,” he said excitedly. She handed him the bracelet, and he threaded it through the loop so it was once again secured to her wrist. 

Her head dropped heavy against her pillow, and Olivia could read Hannah’s utter exhaustion from the opposite side of the room. 

“Noah,” she said gently. “Let’s go and let Hannah get some sleep, okay?” 

Noah’s eyes drifted to Hannah, who had begun slow blinking as she forced herself to stay awake. She thought for a second that she might fight her on it, but it was painfully obvious—even to him—that she was fighting to keep awake. 

“I’ll let you sleep,” Noah said softly. “I uh, can I come see you tomorrow?” 

Hannah smiled softly. “Yeah. I’d like that.” Noah stepped away, and Olivia watched Hannah pull her little stuffed dog close beneath her heating blankets. 

Her kid had done good. 

Elliot pushed the door open to let Olivia and Noah exit, but before Noah stepped into the hallway, a weak voice carried across the room. “Bye Noah.” 

-000-

Once the door clicked shut, Elliot watched Olivia drape an arm around her son, squeezing him tightly against her side. “You did a really kind thing, Noah.” 

He shrugged it off as if it were no big deal, but Elliot was pretty proud of him too. 

“It was, bud. She really responded to you in there. She hadn’t said anything until you brought her that gift.” Elliot took a turn squeezing the boy in a side hug as they moved down the hall. 

Noah blushed under the ample praise. “I just… I don’t know. I kept thinking about what I would have done if I had gotten to see Clem before she died; I would have wanted to bring her something that might make her happy.” He shrugged again. “It’s no big deal. I’m just really glad she’s going to be okay.” 

Elliot nodded. “Me too.” 

They made their way to the double doors. “What time can we come back in the morning?” 

Elliot glanced at Liv over Noah’s head. They hadn’t made a plan yet, but Noah had school the next day, and Elliot wasn’t going to answer until he and Olivia talked things over. 

“Um, I'm not sure. We will check the visiting hours on our way out. Let’s find the other boys so we can figure out what we want to do.” 

“Okay, cool.” Noah looked tons lighter, and Elliot was glad that Olivia had allowed Noah to make a quick visit. It made a huge difference. 

“Well, let’s grab the boys, find a room for the night, and track down some food for dinner. Hopefully they have at least one good takeout place around here.” Elliot wasn’t sure. He might have seen a pizza place on their way in, but he hadn’t been paying close attention. 

“I’m more worried about finding a place to stay,” Olivia murmured. “The only thing I saw was a roadside murder motel on the edge of town.” She inadvertently shuddered.

Elliot chuckled at the description. “I’m sure I’ve stayed in worse.” 

“That really doesn’t make me feel better.” 

He laughed out loud at the disgusted look on her face. “Oh, come on. The alternative is pitching the tent.” 

“Yeah, I’ll take the murder motel.” 

He laughed again as he pushed the door to the cafeteria open. He let Olivia and Noah pass through first, and he shook his head at her as she walked by. The woman was tough as nails and had beat his scores at the firing range nearly every time they went, but apparently the idea of a bear attack was just too much. God, he loved her. 

-000-

Olivia shoved the keycard into the scanner three times before it finally read the card. On the bright side, they would definitely hear if a murderer tried to get in with a keycard. 

She finally got the door open and entered the room. She sent the boys for pizza. The place didn’t do delivery—which was unfathomable to her—so she sent the boys with some cash to pick up pizzas. They mentioned they might eat at the pizza place, but they would bring back a pizza for both her and Elliot. 

She glanced around the room. It was exactly what she expected, down to the 90’s color scheme on the comforters. She noticed the bathroom door was cracked open slightly, and the shower was running. Elliot got them checked in and found the room while she settled things with the boys. 

She dropped onto the bed and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. Now that things had begun to settle, she began to think about the ring. Its presence in the bathroom drawer scared the shit out of her, but not as much as she expected. Part of her wanted to bring it up, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to really talk about it. She doubted Elliot wouldn’t surprise her out of nowhere with a marriage proposal. He knew better. In some ways, he was too careful about pushing her in their relationship. He always seemed to be waiting for her to run, but she had no intention of taking off...ever. The topic probably needed discussion at some point. He had to feel comfortable fighting for what he wanted in their relationship or he wouldn’t be happy, and all she wanted was happiness— both of them.

She rolled her head to the side and watched the steam billow from the bathroom. Honestly, she could use a shower. She didn’t take time to shower when she left. Hell, she was still in the same clothes, and she had been pretty sweaty. A little grin teased the corners of her mouth as she pushed herself off the bed and made her way to the bathroom. She toed off her shoes and socks before she pushed the door open and stepped inside. 

The glass shower doors had fogged up, but she could still make out his silhouette. She stripped her shirt and leggings, tossing them into a pile on the linoleum floor. She reached behind herself to push the door the rest of the way shut and click the lock. 

Elliot must have heard the sound because he partially slid the shower door open. His eyes widened slightly when he took in the image of her standing only in her underwear. She slid her panties down slowly, purposefully teasing him with her slow, exaggerated motion. 

“Comin’ in?” He slid the door open a little wider. 

“Figured we could save water,” she laughed lightly. “Or something like that.” She undid her bra clasp and tossed it into the growing pile of clothing. 

His eyes drifted up and down her body as affection and desire radiated from his expression. That look alone sent warm shivers through her body. Without a word, he held his hand out, and she slipped her fingers between his. She stepped over the tub edge until she stood with her back to the spray, her chest lightly brushing against his. 

He reached out, his hand cradling her cheek. “You’re so damn gorgeous.” His eyes flicked down, relishing the sight of her nude body. 

She leaned her head against his warm, wet shoulder. “You always say that.” And he did. Every chance he got. He once told her he was making up for twenty-five years of never being able to praise her appearance. She wasn’t sure she always believed him, but it was difficult to doubt him when he looked at her like she was everything. 

One of his hands followed the trail of water down her spine and onto her ass. “And it will always be true,” he said with unwavering devotion. 

That look. Their look always sent her crashing into him. Without a thought, her lips were on his. 

He wasted no time whipping his tongue against her lips. She readily complied, opening her mouth, feeling the need to taste him. 

He groaned, and both his hands roughly pulled her hips into his. 

Her lips broke away with a gasping breath. She breathed in the warm, steamy air before diving in, pressing her lips to his throat. There was something irresistible about the delicious bite of his stubble against the soft surface of her tongue. One taste, and she needed more. She sealed her lips over his throat, flicking her tongue over the rough stubble. The salty taste of water and sweat mixed with him stoked the fire in her belly. 

He pulled away slightly, and her lips released the skin with a pop. His lips were suddenly next to her ear. “Careful, baby. The boys would have a field day if I suddenly had an obvious love bite.” 

She chuckled lightly. Oh God, Dickie would never drop it. 

“Plus,” he lightly nipped at her ear, “it’s my turn.” 

She gasped when his hand slid up her body, stopping just shy of the place she felt desperate for him to be. His mouth moved down the front of her chest, pausing to nip at the top of one of her breasts. She wanted to complain about fair play, but the sensation of his mouth moving over her skin made her lose all reasonable thought. 

He turned her slightly so now her back was pressed against the shower wall. His hands held her hips stead as he kissed her way down her body. He worked his way to his knees, pausing his movements just below her belly button. 

She looked down, wondering why he stopped, but found his blue eyes looking up at her with complete adoration. It left her breathless. 

“I love you,” he said while dropping a kiss on her hip bone. “More than you can ever know.” He nipped at the skin of her upper thigh. 

Her hand caressed the back of his head, encouraging him to look up at her once more. He had to know after all this time that he was it for her, but she reassured him anyway. “I love you too. I always will.” 

Chapter Text

Olivia hadn’t anticipated spending the night, and she forgot to replace the clothes in her emergency bag after a particularly grisly crime scene. She dug around the trunk and back seat of her SUV, hoping for some sort of clothing miracle. Wedged deep under the seat, she found a pair of black leggings that must have found their way out of her gym bag at some point. They smelled clean enough, but she would have to swipe a top from Elliot. 

He got out of the shower first, allowing her a little space while he tried to track down something clean to wear. A few minutes later, he popped back in. “I had an extra shirt.” He set the shirt he had folded with her leggings on the counter. 

She rinsed his body wash from her body before shutting the water off and sliding open the shower door. She reached for a nearby towel while he scooped her bra and underwear off of the floor. He set them on the other side of her neatly folded clothes, a little smirk teasing the corner of his lips. 

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he was thinking, but as she wrapped her towel around her, she raised an eyebrow. “Do I want to know what you’re thinking?” 

He chuckled to himself and stepped away from the counter. He pressed a quick kiss on her lips before shaking his head. “Just wondering if you plan on rewearing these.” He slid his palm over the counter, bringing a lace-trimmed pair of panties into view. She tried to snatch them from his hand, but he pulled back a little. “Or if you’re planning on going without.” 

She rolled her eyes and held her hand out. “You are fifteen years old; you know that, right?” 

He held her panties just out of reach and smiled younger in cheek. “Humor me, Benson.” 

She groaned and tried to snatch the panties once more unsuccessfully. His eyes danced with mischief, and she knew either way he would win in this game, so she figured she might as well play too. She sighed as if she had finally acquiesced . She leaned in close so her lips brushed his ear. “Without,” she said in the most suggestive voice she could muster. 

She laughed when his breath caught and used the distraction to snatch the panties from his hand. Honestly, she could care less that he had them, but she would rather Dickie or Eli—or, god forbid, Noah—dig through Elliot’s pockets for keys and find something else entirely. 

“Hey!” He complained. 

She dropped a quick peck on his lips. “Now get out of here before the boys get back.” She shewed him out the door, shutting the door behind him. 

-000-

The bathroom door clicked shut behind him just as a keycard beeped and the motel door opened. Dickie clumped in first, with the other two boys following closely behind him. 

Elliot dropped his hand from the bathroom door, but Dickie smirked. “Really, Dad?” Dickie crossed his arms and, in a reversal of roles 

Eli bumped into Dickie’s shoulder, breadstick in one hand and his phone on the other, completely oblivious to the world. Noah tagged along behind him, but he was more alert than Eli. “What?” 

Dickie chuckled but didn’t fill Noah in. Elliot rolled his eyes before he walked over to one of the beds where his duffle bag sat. He unzipped his bag, found a shirt, and tossed it over his head. 

Noah glanced around the room then asked, “Where’s my mom?” 

Elliot tilted his head toward the bathroom door. “She just finished showering. She’ll be out in a minute.” 

Noah nodded. “Cool,” he said as he bounced into the bed next to Eli. He pulled out his phone and settled with his back against the headboard. “What’s that app called again, Eli?” 

Elliot’s phone buzzed, pulling his attention away from the boys. He picked it up from its resting place in the desk near the TV. 

D: Really, Dad? We were all five seconds away from hearing that quickie in the shower. 

Elliot’s ears burned as he lifted his eyes to give his son a well-deserved glare. He quickly typed out a response. 

E: Wasn’t my idea if it makes you feel better. 

D: Ew. No! It doesn’t help. The last visual I need in my head is my second mother coming on to you in the shower. I’m going to need a brain scrub.

E: You’re the one who brought it up. I can give you details if you want. 

D: God no. 

Just then, both of their heads jerked up at the sound of the bathroom door opening. Olivia stepped through the door while trying to wrangle her semi-wet hair into a claw clip. Her eyes scanned the room, noticing all of the boys’ attention on their phones. “Real mountain men here,” she jabbed lightly. 

Elliot turned slightly and almost laughed out loud when he saw Dickie’s eyes focused on the floor. Olivia noticed too and discretely pointed her finger in his direction, a look of confusion etched on her face.

He shrugged like he had no clue what Dickie’s problem was and reached for the pizza. “Hungry?” He asked as he grabbed a napkin and opened the box. 

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Dickie retreating to a chair in the corner near Eli. 

“Yes, please,” she said eagerly. 

Elliot picked a pizza up and deposited it on a napkin. The boys didn’t think to grab plates, so it looked like he and Olivia would be using napkins. He smiled as he handed a piece to her. The gesture felt familiar. It echoed a time when they were two broke ass detectives who were too cheap to buy plates during a stakeout. 

He continued watching her as she took her first bite, the cheese stretching as she pulled the pizza from her mouth. It was the least graceful thing he’d ever seen her do, and it was pretty damn adorable. 

She must have felt his eyes on her beause once she swallowed that bite she quirked an eyebrow in his direction and asked, “What?” 

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss against her temple. “You're just beautiful is all.” 

She rolled her eyes. “I think you’ve been in the mountains too long.” She tilted her head towards the open pizza box. “Eat your pizza, Stabler.” 

“Yes, Captain,” he said with a wink. It earned him another eye roll, but he caught her holding back a smile. 

He grabbed a piece of pizza and led Olivia over to the edge of the bed so they could sit. Once they were seated, Eli lifted his head from its hunched position over his phone. “What’s the plan? I’ve got a flight late tomorrow, and I have like a million things I need to get done before then.” 

Dickie smacked his arm. “Way to just ease into it, man.” 

“What? We have to make a plan, and we all can’t stay here forever. I’m sure you have, I don’t know, a job to get back to,” Eli snarked. 

Elliot fought the urge to pull the boys apart by the collars. They had been bickering off and on throughout the whole trip, and he was getting to the end of his patience for the pair of them. Elliot wasn’t completely blind. Eli had been distant, and instead of approaching it delicately, Dickie bulldozed in like he always did. “Both of you stop,” Elliot said firmly. 

The arguing abruptly stopped, but Noah’s voice broke the silence. “I’m staying. If you two have to stay, then I’m staying too.” 

Elliot glanced in Olivia’s direction, deciding to let her field that request.

She shook her head. “You have school,” she said gently. “And dance and drama club. You need to get back home.” 

He folded his arms, but his face remained neutral. “I haven’t missed any days this year. I can take some sick days.” 

“What happens when you actually get sick?” She challenged. 

He rolled his eyes. “I barely missed a day last year. I’m not going to miss too many days.” 

“You don’t know that. It’s the beginning of the year. I would be fine if you missed tomorrow, but Elliot and I may be here much longer than that. You can’t stay that long.” 

Noah’s careful composure began to fracture. She blocked his first few attempts, and he looked like he was getting more desperate. “Come on, Mom. Please. I’ll never ask for anything else again. I’ll do extra chores. Like, all of my work is turned in online anyway. Please let me stay.” 

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Elliot could tell her patience for this negotiation was wearing thin. “Noah.” She dropped her hand, and Elliot could sense the strain in her voice. “We have no idea what’s going on right now. I don’t know if it’s even safe for you to be here. What do you think you will do while Elliot and I are working? Because I’m surely not letting you stay in this god awful motel on your own. I know you want to help her, but the best thing you can do to help her is be safe so I can do my job.” 

Tears formed in Noah’s eyes as he sat back against the headboard with a huff. Kid was persuasive and stubborn; unfortunately, his mom was too, and after the BX9 incident, he would never argue when she pulled the “safety card.” 

Dickie spoke up. “Why don’t I take Eli and Noah back to the city with me tomorrow morning?" That gives Eli most of the day to prepare for his flight, and that way Noah can see Hannah before we go.” 

Noah sat up a little straighter at the suggestion that he could at least see his new friend in the morning. 

“That might work,” Olivia thought aloud. “I need to coordinate with a few people. I’ll see if Amanda can take Noah for a couple days.” Her eyes lifted to Elliot’s face. “I can’t stay here more than a couple days. I’m not sure how long she will be here, but I can’t leave Fin in charge for forever.” 

He slid an arm around her shoulder. “I’ll stay. We are mostly in the research phase with our current case, and I can do that anywhere. I’ll check in with Ayanna to be sure, but I think she will be okay with me taking some of my vacation days if it comes to that.” 

Olivia nodded. “Okay then. That’s the plan, then. Dickie will take the boys home. We will stay here for a couple days and go from there.” 

-000- 

Later that evening Elliot accompanied Olivia to the only store in the area—a local Walmart— since she couldn’t run around town in her boyfriend's shirt and ratty pair of exercise leggings. Her hair had completely frizzed out with only Elliot’s shampoo and no conditioner.  If she planned on looking professional on any level in the morning, she needed to find clothes that didn’t make her look like she crawled out of the swamp. 

She was able to find some passable pieces that weren’t exactly the quality she was used to, but they only needed to last a couple days. She had never been to Walmart, and Elliot teased her about it the entire time. 

By the time they made it back to the motel, Noah had crashed on one of the queen beds. Dickie sat on the other side, watching a rerun of a cooking show. Eli sat in a cheap armchair in the corner, predictably on his phone. 

Dickie hit the power button on the TV, and the screen went dark. “Get what you need, Liv?” He asked with a yawn. 

“Yeah. Not my first choice, but it will work for the next couple days.” 

“I think I’d pay money to see you—Olivia Benson— pushing a shopping cart around a country Walmart." Dickie grinned. 

She rolled her eyes. “You’re just as bad as your dad. You guys realize I’m a cop, right? I promise I've been to a lot seedier places than the local Walmart.” 

“Sure, but have you shopped in those places?” Dickie shot back goodnaturedly. 

She opened her mouth but shut it quickly, knowing that he got her there. 

To her left, Elliot laughed out loud, and she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. “You guys are the worst,” she said with a faux grumble. 

Elliot leaned in and kissed her temple. “But you love it.” 

She turned her face and pecked his lips lightly. “I do.” 

Dickie cleared his throat and lightly hit Eli’s arm. “Let’s go next door. I’m tired.” 

"Yeah, okay,” Eli yawned in response. 

Dickie slapped his knees as he stood. “Just call us when you guys are ready to go in the morning.” He made his way to the door, Eli close behind. 

“See you in the morning,” Olivia said as they slipped out the door. 

Chapter Text

“Slow down, Noah!” Olivia called after him. His footsteps echoed through the otherwise silent hallway. Olivia hoped there weren’t many patients in this particular wing who would be bothered by Noah’s exuberance. 

She felt Elliot slip his hand into hers as they walked side by side. “He’s fine."

“He’s probably waking up the whole floor,” she worried aloud. 

“It’s a hospital in almost the middle of nowhere. I doubt their ICU is filled to the brim. 

“I know, but still. He’s gonna spook Hannah with all that energy.” She felt a little displaced when it came to Hannah. All the normal roles appeared to be jumbled. Hannah seemed to connect best with Noah, but she also appeared calm when Elliot was in the room. It wasn’t that Hannah seemed antagonistic toward Olivia or anything, but the connection—the bond—Olivia usually achieved with ease was proving to be a bit more difficult with this girl. 

Certainly part of the problem was Olivia’s internal turmoil over the entire situation. Hannah most likely clocked Olivia’s discomfort and put walls up in response. Olivia wished Hannah understood it wasn’t about her. No, her hesitance had little to do with Hannah and everything to do with another beautiful child who left them all too soon. 

Noah reached the door first, but he paused, knowing the adults needed to go in ahead of him. He bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently as Olivia knocked softly on the door before she slowly pushed it open. 

“Hannah,” she said gently as she slowly entered the room. She didn’t respond, keeping her eyes on the stuffed animal Noah had brought. She toyed with the little puppy’s paw nervously as Olivia moved deeper into the hospital room. “I brought Noah and Elliot for a visit if that’s okay.” 

Hannah shifted her weight a little so she could see her visitors. The day before she had been laid flat to accommodate all of the heating blankets, but Olivia noticed that nearly all the warming blankets were gone, and Hannah was in a more semi-sitting position. 

Olivia turned slightly, letting Noah slip past her. In the hallway he had been a buzzing ball of energy, but as he approached the hospital bed, his body language changed. He appeared much more calm as he sat in the chair nearest the bed. 

“Hi,” he said easily. 

“Hi,” she whispered in return. 

“You look a lot better today,” Noah said. 

Hannah nodded. “I'm finally not freezing.” 

Olivia remained silent. Hannah’s voice was so soft—so raspy—that she was difficult to hear. 

“That’s good,” Noah said as he leaned a little closer. “I…I have to go home today.” 

Hannah’s disappointment was obvious. “Oh, okay.”

“I know. I wish I could stay. At least to keep you company while you are here. It’s gotta be pretty boring. Do they even have a TV in here?” Noah looked around but didn’t find one. “I guess they just want you to sleep, huh.” 

“Probably.” She shrugged her shoulders and added, “I’ve never really watched TV anyway.” 

“I don’t either. At least not normally. I mean, sometimes when I’m sick or if I’m hanging out with Dickie, but most of the time I’m busy with school and dance and stuff.” 

Hannah’s eyes teared up a little, but she swallowed back whatever emotion had been bubbling to the surface. “Who’s Dickie?” She asked softly. 

“Oh, sorry. I guess you haven’t met him. He might want to come say hi. The hospital only likes two people here at once, but we snuck three of us.” He said everything so conspiratorial that it was almost humorous. “Dickie helped you get here too. He got to ride in the ambulance to make sure you were okay.” 

Hannah’s blue eyes flooded with tears once more. She blinked away the tears. "Oh."

Noah continued. “I wanted to go, but they said it had to be an adult, so Dickie went. I just didn’t want you to be by yourself.” 

“Thanks. That, uh, I’m glad you did that.” She smiled through the constant stream of tears. “I want to meet Dickie sometime. I, uh, want to thank him and all of you for... I guess, for saving my life.”

Noah shook his head as if his actions were no big deal. “We all just did what anyone would have done.”

“Not everyone.” Olivia clocked the brief flash of fear in her eyes. Hannah dropped her gaze onto the fuzzy surface of the stuffed dog she held with her free hand. She cleared her throat. “I promise, not everyone would have helped me.” 

Something in Olivia’s gut told her Hannah spoke from a place of experience. At some point in this child’s life she needed help, and that help never showed up. She hated the thought, but unfortunately it was a situation Olivia was more than familiar with. 

“I’m glad we found you then,” Noah said with a soft smile. 

“Me too,” she replied quietly. A wild curl fell from her haphazard ponytail, obscuring her deep soulful eyes. 

A light knock on the door sent all eyes in the room darting in that direction. Elliot stood closest to the door, so he pulled it open, just as a doctor began to push through. "Oh, sorry,” the doctor mumbled as he released the door handle. He appraised the group gathered in the room.

Olivia realized the doctor likely needed to conduct some sort of exam, and she doubted Hannah wanted an audience for all that. "Alright, Noh, the boys are waiting. Its probably time to leave.” 

She immediately noticed how Hannah’s eyes instantly teared up. Olivia hated taking away the one person who provided a sense of safety for this child, but she really didn’t have many options. 

Noah’s eyes silently pleaded for a little more time, but being a mom—and a captain—meant she had to make tough calls. It was time. 

Noah’s eyes dropped, and she was thankful that he appeared to be accepting her decision without any sort of dramatic incident. Normally, she wouldn't expect dramatics from him, but the whole situation had sent him off center, and she barely knew what to expect from him at this point. 

Olivia watched as Noah gently took Hannah’s hand. “I gotta go, but Mom and Elliot are gonna stay with you, okay?” 

Tears coursed down her cheeks, but she nodded. “Okay,” she rasped. 

“We can FaceTime soon, okay?” He turned, his expression questioning. 

“We can do that,” Olivia said while nodding. 

Hannah bit her lip, trying to show some sort of strength. “Okay,” she whispered as she let go of Noah’s hand. 

He leaned back, preparing to leave, but before he stood up, he paused. “I know it’s hard and things suck right now, but, uh.” He rubbed the back of his head. “You can trust my mom and Elliot, okay? They want to help. They aren’t gonna hurt you. I promise, okay?” 

The tears Hannah had all but surpressed once again bubbled to the surface. "Okay."

“Um.” Noah finally stood. “I’ll talk to you soon.” He met Olivia near the door but turned around again. “Bye,” he said, his voice forlorn. 

“Bye Noah."

-000- 

Elliot didn’t want to leave Hannah alone, but he needed to get the boys on their way. He found himself rushing through his goodbyes, making the boys promise to call him once they dropped Noah off and again once they were situated at their respective places. 

He wasn’t sure why this child provoked a sense of protective urgency he hadn’t felt since he met Noah. A few children had drawn out this feeling in the past. His thoughts almost immediately drifted to Tommy Keegan—a child that elicited a fierce protective response while simultaneously making him question everything he thought he knew about his own family. For some reason Hannah was stirring those same feelings of parental protectiveness. 

He didn’t want to analyze the feeling too deeply. It could be the trauma surrounding the events of the day or even Noah’s intense attachment bringing out those instincts. 

Either way, he rushed through the goodbyes, hugging each of the boys tightly before loading them up in his truck. They had scarcely waved goodbye before his feet began dragging him back through the sliding hospital doors. 

Olivia remained a step behind him, and he could feel her assessing gaze burning into the back of his head. Just before they made it through the ICU waiting room, she finally spoke. 

“Wait, just a second, El.” She grasped his forearm, causing him to immediately slow his steps. 

When he finally stopped his movement, she asked, “Can we just,” she paused, “just slow down for just one second.” 

He breathed out a frustrated sigh, but one look at her face forced him to consider how displaced she must be feeling. She just sent her son back to the city without her, for the sake of another child. How often had she forced herself to let others care for Noah so she could take care of someone else’s broken child? Probably more times than she could count. If she needed a minute, he could give it to her. 

He pulled her into a snug embrace. Her body melted into his. The tension that had wafted off her began to slip away. For a moment he held her in silence, savoring her closeness. When she felt completely relaxed, he asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to go back with them?” 

“Uh, no.” Her voice cracked, “I’m not sure, but, um, I need to stay.” 

Something about the way she said the words made him feel like he was the biggest reason she chose to stay. She was doing what she always did—what partners did. She was backing his play. 

And he couldn’t love her more for it. 

He impulsively pressed a kiss on her forehead. “We will get back,” he promised. “As soon as we can.” He pulled back from the embrace. “As soon as we can,” he reiterated. 

She nodded silently in agreement. “I’m worried about Noah,” she blurted unexpectedly. 

His hands lifted so he could lightly rub his hands over her upper arms. He was too, and while he knew Noah needed to go back to the city, he really didn’t like the idea of him being there without Olivia or him. “I know. I am too, but I think he will be okay. This has stirred up a lot of feelings for him—I’m sure—but I think it’s been healing in a way.” 

“Maybe.” The uncertainty nearly dripped from her voice. “I’m just worried about how attached he is. Well, her too.” Her eyes caught Elliot’s. “And maybe you as well.”

Sometimes he found it disconcerting how well she knew him. He tried shrugging it off. “You know as well as anyone how shared trauma binds people.” 

“Yeah. I know."

Elliot glanced towards the ICU doors. “There’s just something... I don’t know, Liv. It’s probably just because of everything that happened last year, but she just feels, I don’t know what I’m saying.” 

Olivia waited for a moment. “She feels what?” 

“Familiar somehow. Maybe it’s the dark hair. Maybe I see Clem in every little girl with dark hair. 

"The best thing we can do right now is work on her case. Noah’s endorsement is a gift no one else will get. She’s more likely to trust us over any other adult right now. Plus,” he added, “Noah won’t forgive us if we give up her case.”

He realized that her thirteen-year-old probably shouldn’t be running the show, but if he were honest with himself, he would admit how much he wanted to solve this girl’s case too. 

He assumed she had accepted his answer when she pulled away and moved towards the doors. With a sigh, she looked over her shoulder in his direction. “Let’s start with the hospital staff. We need to see her medical report, and maybe if we are lucky she will have spoken to someone since we were here last night. 

“Sounds good. Let’s track down her doctor.” 

-000-

Chapter Text

They only made it halfway down the near-silent hallway before Hannah’s doctor opened the door to another patient's room and entered the hallway. 

"Oh, good,” he said as he started in their direction. “I’ve been trying to track you two down.” 

“We needed to get our boys on their way,” Elliot explained. 

“It’s no problem,” the doctor reassured them. “Hannah’s doing as well as we would expect, but she is unresponsive to all members of our staff. It would be helpful to get even a brief health history, but no one can get her to say anything.” The doctor’s voice remained kind, but it was laced with obvious frustration. 

“Do you want us to try?” Olivia asked. “I’m not sure how open she will be, but maybe we will have more luck.” 

Elliot hoped that would be the case. He half expected Hannah to close her mouth as a quiet rebellion for sending Noah away. Sure, Hannah spoke in front of them but never with them directly. They were banking on Noah’s reassurances to be enough to get Hannah talking, but that was in no way guaranteed. 

The doctor unclipped a small packet from the clipboard situated beneath his iPad. “Normally we try to get all our information digitized, but I think in this case it might be better to have the paper copy available to fill out as she provides useful information.”

He held out the packet, and Olivia stepped forward to take it. “We will see what we can get. I think getting any personal information from her might be a slow process, but she may surprise us.” 

The doctor nodded. “I hope so. We’ve got CPS stopping by later this afternoon. Right now she needs rest, but that can be accomplished anywhere. I’d like to release her tomorrow sometime, but we might have to wait until CPS finds an appropriate foster family for her.” 

Elliot felt himself screaming on the inside. A foster family? No way. This kid wouldn’t talk to anyone, and yet the hospital felt like she was healthy enough to be released. It didn’t feel right. At all.

“She can’t stay here for a few more days? She just had abdominal surgery. Feels a little soon to kick her to the curb.” Elliot did his best to moderate his tone, but the thought of Hannah being sent to a house full of perfect strangers felt wrong.

“We don’t have unlimited funding,” the doctor remained emotionless and factual despite Elliot’s obviously rising temper. 

Elliot folded his arms over his chest and stepped closer to the doctor. He wasn’t exactly trying to intimidate the man, but the heat in his eyes must have been obvious because he felt Olivia’s gentle hand on his chest and her voice in his ear, “Same team, El.” He pulled a tight breath through his nose. Her tone said more than the words she spoke. She was calling off the bulldog. She was telling him to stand down. 

His eyes shot to hers, but one look told him she would not be backing down, and she would rip into him if he continued to escalate the current conversation into a full argument. 

He stepped back with the gentle guiding pressure of her fingers. Once she was certain he wouldn’t jump back into the heat of it all she turned back towards the doctor. “We will talk to CPS when they get here and weigh her options.” It was a diplomatic response, but it did nothing to quell the fierce indignation building in his chest. 

The doctor appeared suddenly eager to make an exit, so he quickly handed Olivia a pen. “I’ll let you know when CPS gives us an appointment time. See what information you can get. Let one of the nurses know if you find out anything useful." 

He took another step around Olivia and Elliot. “Let me know if I can help with anything.” With that, he spun on his heel and walked away as quickly as he could without being obvious in his retreat. 

“Elliot,” Olivia scolded him. 

“I know I know.” He did know that his reaction was a little over the top, but it still felt justified. “But funding? Really? They’re just gonna send her to some random family. She’s traumatized. But all anyone is worried about is funding.” 

“But we aren't. Let’s get in there so she’s not alone and see if we can get her to talk a little. He said CPS wouldn’t be here for a while yet. Her hand rested on his chest once more, this time in a gentle, affectionate gesture. “I need you to breathe. She will clam up if she senses how strung up you are. We will figure this out. Okay?"

He took a slow breath before nodding. She was right, of course. Steamrolling everyone wouldn’t provide the outcome he wanted for this girl. He had to color within the lines for a little bit, and maybe they could work out a situation that would truly benefit Hannah. 

“Okay. Yeah,” he breathed the words out. Let’s check in on her. I don’t want her to be alone.” His words echoed Noah’s constant concern the day before. Something about the image of this petite girl nearly dead on the forest floor—alone—made him hesitant to leave her alone ever again. 

-000-

Before entering Hannah’s room, Olivia looked over the paperwork provided by the doctor. The only thing filled out was Hannah’s name written in the doctor’s scrawl. She blew out a sigh. The document was long, and she wasn’t sure if she could get Hannah to give her a last name or even her birthday. Olivia made a mental decision to start with her last name. If they could get a last name, maybe they could look up birth records or school enrollment if she had ever attended. That felt like a good place to start. 

Elliot reached for the handle and opened the door for her. When they entered the room, they found Hannah lying on her good side, stuffed dog tucked under her arm, and eyes unfocused, looking in the direction of the wall. 

“Hey, Hannah,” Elliot kept his volume down, but her head whipped around all the same. 

Hannah didn’t return the greeting, but her eyes softened, and Olivia took that as a sign that she didn’t mind them being there. 

Elliot brought a second chair to the bedside so they both could sit next to her and hopefully get her talking. 

“Hi,” Olivia said with a smile as she sat in the cushioned chair Elliot had pulled over. He took his place next to her but remained quiet, allowing her to take the lead. 

Hannah didn’t respond, but her attention was directed in Olivia’s direction, which seemed like a good sign. 

“Do you like dogs?” Olivia asked, gesturing to the stuffed animal tucked under her arm. 

Hannah shrugged noncommittally, but her hold on the stuffed animal tightened. 

“That one is pretty cute. Noah was worried you wouldn’t like it, but I figured you would.” 

Hannah nodded. Olivia felt grateful that Hannah was communicating with them in any way, including gestures. Speaking would be ideal, but for now she would take what she could get. 

“Hannah,” she said gently. “We need to get some medical information from you so the doctors know how best to help you.” Hannah’s eyes widened a little. “Nothing too scary. Promise. We don’t have to talk about anything you are uncomfortable about, okay?” 

Hannah chewed her lip nervously before nodding. 

“Good,” Olivia gave Hannah a warm, reassuring smile. “We have your first name on the form, but we could use a last name.” 

Her eyes widen even further before she shook her head vigorously. That seemed like a basic enough question, but Olivia promised not to press her, so she continued on without skipping a beat. “How about your birthday?” 

Hannah’s eyes dropped. “I don’t know.” Her voice was heartbreakingly sad. “We…we didn’t celebrate birthdays or anything.”

Olivia’s heart pounded nervously. She was talking, and Olivia knew she had to tread carefully in her attempts to keep the conversation flowing. 

“That’s okay. Don’t worry.” She scribbled the word fall in the corner of the paper. “How old are you?” 

“I’m turning thirteen.” Her voice lacked the excitement typical of a girl entering her teen years.

Olivia jotted the number thirteen in the corner of the paper. For a moment, she stared at the document and all of its blank spaces. It felt like a visual reminder of the air of mystery surrounding this girl. The more she thought about it, the more her gut told her to put the paper away. 

Trusting that feeling, she passed the paper to Elliot, who lifted an eyebrow in question. “Put it somewhere,” she instructed. She didn’t want the pressure of filling out a form. She just wanted to talk, and maybe if she was lucky they could glean something useful in a more organic way. 

Olivia leaned forward and clasped her hands together, resting them on her knee. “I want to try something. I want to ask you some questions, but it’s only fair if you get to ask some questions in return.” Olivia noted the glint of intrigue in Hannah’s deep blue eyes. “You can ask me or Elliot anything. If anyone doesn’t want to answer a question, we can pass.” 

Hannah considered the idea and eventually nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. 

“How about you go first?” Olivia suggested. 

Hannah thought for a moment before her soft voice voiced her question. “Are you guys cops?”

Elliot chuckled beside her. “How’d you know?” 

She shrugged. “You just look like cops. You told me she,” her eyes drifted to Olivia, “helps a lot of women and kids, so I wondered if you were cops or social workers or something. You look more like cops than social workers.” 

“Yes,” Olivia smiled. “We work with the NYPD.” 

Hannah showed some recognition about what that meant. She remained silent until Olivia realized it was her turn to ask a question. 

She settled on something super benign. “What’s your favorite color?” 

“That’s easy.” Hanna lifted her wrist to show off the small teal bead attached to her bracelet. "Teal."

“Nice,” Olivia said with approval. “Your turn."

“Why are you guys here? I’m pretty sure New York City is pretty far from here.” 

Olivia chuckled lightly and nudged Elliot with her knee. “Wanna answer that one?” 

He smirked a little. “Well, Olivia wouldn’t be anywhere near bugs, trees, and wild animals,” she rolled her eyes, and he laughed in response. “But my boys like the outdoors. I brought them all out here for a fishing trip.” 

Hannah nodded. “That makes sense.” She gave Olivia a look over before adding. "Yeah, you don’t look like the outside type.” 

Elliot burst into laughter and Olivia smacked his arm. “He’s laughing because you’re right. I’m definitely a born and raised city girl.” 

“Not me,” Hannah shook her head. “I’ve never been to a big city.” She dropped her eyes on her hands. “Any city really.” 

Olivia’s heart rejoiced. Hannah was providing information unprompted. 

“So, you were born here then?” Olivia asked the question, fully anticipating that Hannah might dodge the question. To her surprise, Hannah answered honestly. 

“I don’t know. We never talked about stuff like that. I don’t remember living anywhere else, but I don’t know if I was born here or anything.” 

Olivia resisted the urge to cut in with a follow-up question and bit her tongue until Hannah asked, “You’re both cops, but Noah looked like... I don’t know. I guess I’m just asking if you guys are married or something.” 

Olivia felt her heart pounding. Hannah’s innocent question felt anything but innocent considering Olivia had found a ring in a drawer only days before. 

Elliot came to her rescue. “No. We’re not married. We worked together for a long time. We've only been, uh, dating, I guess, for a year or so.” 

“I wondered. You seemed… I don’t know.” She shook her head, and they let the subject drop. 

Olivia wanted to ask about her parents, but based on Hannah’s hesitancy with talking about her family, Olivia tried a different angle. 

“What do you like to do for fun? Do you have friends?” Olivia noticed Hannah’s arm subconsciously tightening around the stuffed dog. For a moment Olivia thought Hannah would pass on the question, but to her surprise, Hannah answered. 

“There’s not a lot of time for fun stuff. Sometimes in the summer the days are a little longer so I can get chores done before it gets dark. I like making stuff. My…my sister...” her eyes filled with tears. “She liked braiding flower stems and clovers together.” 

“That sounds like it would be fun.” 

“I guess. I liked it because she liked it. It was fun when we did it together.” 

Olivia decided to push her luck. “What’s your sister’s name?” 

Hannah’s eyes focused intently on Olivi through her dewy tears. Olivia could see the wheels in her mind ticking as she tried to decide whether or not to trust a woman she had just met. Her eyes moved to Elliot, who appeared to be holding his breath, waiting for my response. 

“Um. Rebekah. I uh, I always called her Bekah, you know, when uh, my parents weren’t around. They were pretty strict about us, um, using our full names.” 

“Oh. I like that name.” 

“Me too,” Hannah replied with an edge of sadness in her voice. 

A knock on the door sent all eyes in the direction of the door. The handle clicked, and an unfamiliar face popped in. 

“Is this a good time?” The woman moved fully into the room, and Olivia immediately noticed the ID attached to a colorful lanyard around the woman’s neck. Child protective services. This woman was a social worker.

Chapter Text

It really wasn’t a good time. Actually, her timing couldn’t have been worse, but Olivia plastered a fake smile on her face and forced herself to interact kindly with the other professional in the room. 

“We were just getting to know Hannah a little better. What can we do for you?" Olivia squinted to see the name on the other woman's badge. "Christina?"

The other woman gave them a kind yet exhausted smile. She was younger than Liv, maybe mid-thirties. Olivia knew Christina would be considered an older woman in her profession. CPS had a reputation for chewing up young idealists and spitting them out before the age of thirty. The turnover was incredibly high and that led Olivia to believe this woman was either passionate about her job or she was slugging through her overwhelming caseload until she hit retirement. 

“Well,” Christina began. “I need to speak with Hannah about a few things and then we can go over what tomorrow is going to look like when the hospital releases her into our custody.” 

Olivia noticed Hannah’s hold on her stuffed animal tighten while the social worker continued speaking. 

“We will have an emergency placement ready for you until we can find a more permanent foster family moving forward.” 

Hannah had been trying to mask her emotion, but her errant tears grew into shaky sobs. The social worker finally noted her distress and stepped closer. “I know this is hard, honey, but I want you to know what to expect, okay?” 

Hannah shook her head while tears continued to flow. Olivia wasn’t sure if she was refusing placement or just plain refusing to accept any of this. Either way, Olivia had enough. She could feel Elliot’s anger rising beside her, and she needed to step in before that ticking time bomb exploded. 

“Christina,” Olivia cut in. “Do you mind if we speak in the hallway for a couple minutes?” 

The social worker opened her mouth to say something but shut it before nodding. 

Olivia stood and led the way toward the door. She opened it and stepped back, motioning for Christina to exit first. Once she stepped through the door, Olivia noticed that Elliot hadn’t stood to join them. Instead, he was in the chair nearest Hannah’s bed, speaking to her in a low voice. Not wanting to leave him, but also not wanting to leave Christina was waiting in the hallway; she asked, “Comin’?” 

His eyes moved between Olivia and Hannah before he nodded. He turned his attention back to Hannah for a brief moment. “I’ll be right back.” 

Hannah’s tears had subsided, causing Olivia to wonder what Elliot had said to reassure her. She didn’t waste too much time on the thought because a few seconds later she followed him out the door and into the hallway. 

Once the door shut, Olivia turned towards the social worker and asked, “Is there any way she can stay here for one more day?” She kept her voice deliberately kind, hoping to offset Elliot’s blatant RBF next to her. 

Christina sighed. “If it were up to me, I would let her stay as long as she needed, but it’s not my call.” 

“Whose call is it?” Elliot asked, his voice tight. Olivia could see the muscles on his neck tightening as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. 

Christina eyed Elliot wearily. She returned her attention in Olivia’s direction while answering his question. “I could give you the number of our state officials, but I doubt that will get you very far. If her doctor feels she is well enough to be discharged, then we can’t keep her here without a medical reason to do so." Christina sighed again. “I know this is tough, but I know the family that will be taking her for the next few days. It’s a good place for her.” 

“According to who?” Elliot folded his arms defensively. “Just because you say she’s safe doesn’t mean that she is. We don’t even know who has been hurting her or where they live, and we are just going to send her off and hope for the best?” 

Olivia felt a headache forming behind her right eye. 

“Look.” Christina’s voice tightened, and Olivia knew the other woman was losing her patience. “My hands are tied here. All I can do is make sure she is with a qualified family. I can’t approve anything that magically lets her stay here. That’s out of my hands. I can show you the files for our two placement families, but that’s all I can really do.” 

“I’d like to see those files. That would be helpful.” Olivia didn’t like the idea of pawning this child on total strangers, but she could at least preview the available families to ensure a compatible fit. She glanced over at Elliot and her stomach turned. She knew that look. It was the face he made before he dove headfirst into some half-baked, impulsively formed plan. 

“We’ll take her,” he blurted. He avoided Olivia’s gaze and kept his focus heavily on the social worker in front of him. “Our department is taking her case.” He cleared his throat. “We both have the necessary background checks and prerequisite clearance for an emergency placement.” He finally made eye contact with Olivia, but all she could do was gape at him in disbelief. “We’ll take her,” he said firmly. His voice held an air of finality. “She will come home with us.” 

-000-

By the time the social worker left, Elliot knew he was in deep shit with Olivia. He completely blindsided her by volunteering their home for some stray child, but the more the social worker spoke, the more he felt their options narrowing. In his mind, this was the only acceptable option. 

After a silent walk to the vending machines, Olivia fed the machine a crinkled dollar twice before aggressively hitting the vending button. Normally, she exemplified a remarkable level of poise, but she wasn’t even trying to play it cool.  She was pissed, and she wanted him to know it. 

While he continued to watch her take out her anger on the vending machine, he tried to figure out what to do next. He really didn’t want to bring their fizzling anger into Hannah’s hospital room. They needed to get it out and clear the air so they could plan their next steps. Knowing an argument was inevitable, he decided to poke the bear and get it over with.

She didn't look at him before she leaned down and pulled her granola bar from the bottom of the bending machine. Apparently, she planned to ignore him. 

The wrapper crinkled as she began unwrapping the granola bar. He rolled his eyes. “Just say what you need to say.” 

Her fist clenched around the granola bar before she finally acknowledged his presence. “So,” her eyes bore into him with a scathing intensity. “You thought you would just make this decision without even talking to me?”

He was immediately on the defensive. “Okay, Liv. I didn’t ask you first, but you're telling me you just want them to shove her with some random family? I can’t fathom why you think that would be a good idea!” 

“Good Lord, Elliot!” She groaned. “That’s not at all what I said.” She took a few steps away from him, trying to put some distance between them. 

He followed her step for step until they were even closer than before. “Then what? What was your plan? She can’t stay here, and she can’t go into foster care? This is the only option as far as I can see.” 

She threw her hands up in the air and skated right past his explanation. “It’s not that, ugh. You can’t just volunteer our home without at least talking to me about it!” She shook her head in anger. 

He stepped closer—so close he could smell the cheap bar soap from the motel. “Okay, fine, but would the outcome be any different? We have zero options, and it’s not the first time either of us has let a child from the job stay with us!” He folded his arms over his chest in a defiant gesture.

Maybe he was feeling petty, but he hadn’t said anything about offering her place anyway. They might be cohabitating by anyone’s standards, but even a year later he still had his place. “Who said she had to stay at your place anyway?” His voice dripped with self-righteous indignation. “I’ve still got my place, and since it’s mine, I can do whatever the hell I want with it.” 

He knew he cut a low blow, and she visibly winced at his words. He purposefully matched the tone she used when claiming Noah as only her son. They both knew that the previously buried conversation would claw its way back to the surface at the first opportunity. It wouldn’t stay dormant for long. 

She stood agape for a moment before shaking her head angrily. She mumbled something unintelligible. 

“What?” He snapped.

“I know what you are getting at, and I'm not having that conversation with you. Not right now.” Her voice held a finality that heightened the rage building in his chest. He wanted to push that angle again, but she rerouted the conversation when she waved a hand dismissively. “But you’re right,” she said. "You have your own place. You can do whatever you want.” Her voice dripped with bitterness. “But did you think about Noah? Hell, did you take even a second to consider your own kids?” 

Something about the way she threw the words at him felt accusatory. “What’s that supposed to mean? They’re fine! Noah would love having her there! And my kids don’t even live at home! Why would they care?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” she rolled her eyes. “They already got displaced by a new little brother, but you know what? I’m sure they’ll be fine. Just shove them to the side.” She started to walk away. “Just shove all of us to the side. All that matters is what you want.” 

He reached for her arm, spinning her back in his direction. “Oh my God, Liv!” He exclaimed with heavy exasperation. He could feel the blood rushing to his face, and he knew he was turning an angry shade of red. “None of that. Ugh. None of that is true! You know that,” he hissed. “And that’s not the issue here anyway! The problem is where to place Hannah, and I don’t see any other option. We are the only ones looking out for her right now!  She has no one, and you just want to throw her away like she’s nothing! You have no idea how terrifying it was to find her nearly dead, tossed away like trash. I’m not letting her slip through the cracks. She deserves better than that.” 

She scrubbed her hands over her face, and he felt her softening slightly. “Fine.” Her voice still held a sharp edge of anger. “You’re right. This is the only acceptable solution, but that’s not really the problem. Not even a little.” Her intensity waned, and her voice lowered. 

The pounding adrenaline from the fight began to ebb, and he finally felt himself begin to calm. 

She took a slow breath as they both tried to de-escalate the argument. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You can’t just volunteer us for an insane life change without talking to me first. Without even asking me.” Her voice remained calm, but when she opened her eyes, he felt taken aback by the burning furor in her expression. “That might be how it worked with Kathy, but that’s sure as hell not going to work with me.” 

He felt another wash of anger at the mention of his dead wife, but before he could bite back defensively, she got one more word in. 

“Partners,” she murmured. He felt his hand slipping away from her arm, but she caught his hand at the last second. 

Her eyes remained focused on their now clasped hands. “We’re partners, Elliot. You know I will always back your play, but I have to know what it is first. I can't have your back if I don't know what the damn plan is.” 

He focused on their now entwined fingers. She was right. Damn her. He shook his head and felt a chuckle escape his lips.

He spent most of his life in a relationship of forced smiles and weak compliance. He and Kathy fought, but they never fought for each other. Olivia wasn’t afraid of the fight. Sometimes her fierce demeanor and stubborn independence frustrated the hell out of him, but he wouldn’t want her any other way. She fought for herself and what she wanted, but more often than not, she fought for him. She had his back. Always. 

He squeezed her fingers gently. “Partners,” he repeated. 

“Partners,” she echoed. 

Chapter Text

Elliot pushed the cart through the aisles of the Walmart until he arrived at the girls section. Hannah may be thirteen, but she was extremely petite, and Elliot doubted she would fit in any clothing from the juniors or women’s sections. 

He wandered around the different clothing racks, never really stopping to look closer at anything. The whole thing felt a little intimidating. Kathy had done the bulk of the shopping for their kids, and he rarely paid close attention to the sizes and styles his children wore. 

Hannah had nothing, which meant she needed everything, and Elliot wasn’t certain where to start. After he passed by the same stack of t-shirts three separate times, he decided it was time to call in for backup. 

He scrolled quickly through his recent calls until he landed on Kathleen’s name. He tapped the video button and hoped the cell service would be reliable enough within the Walmart for a video chat. Thankfully, she picked up quickly. 

“Hey, Dad, what’s up?” She propped her phone against something and squinted her eyes. “Where are you?” 

He bypassed the question. “Have you talked to your brothers?” Eli had been so distracted, he probably didn’t fill anyone in on anything before catching his flight, and Dickie wasn’t really consistent about talking to anyone but Lizzie. 

She shook her head. “No. I mean, I talked to Lizzie yesterday, and she filled me in on some stuff, but she didn’t have specifics. What’s going on, Dad? Lizzie said you guys find a kid in the woods.” 

He briefly explained the situation they found themselves in and how he volunteered to be a guardian for Hannah. 

Kathleen dropped her head into one of her hands. “You seriously didn’t talk to Olivia first? What the hell, Dad? She’s obviously got a say in this.” 

Elliot bristled, not wanting to go into deep details about the tense peace he found with Olivia. It wasn’t any of Katie’s business anyway. Instead he hurried to his reason for calling. “Look, Hannah has literally nothing, and I haven’t shopped for a teen girl…probably ever.” 

Kathleen laughed out loud. “Yeah. That was more of a mom job. Which, I mean, we preferred it that way. You wouldn’t let us wear like anything cute.”

“That’s not true.” He grumbled. 

“Come on, Dad. I wore a spaghetti strap dress to Nicole’s sweet sixteen, and you almost made me go change! Mom had to jump in the argument so I could sneak out the back door.” 

He grumbled something unintelligible in return. 

She continued. “Some days I couldn’t believe you worked sex crimes. I mean, someone mentioned bra shopping, and you would find some excuse to leave the room.” A bubbly laugh escaped her lips. “School shopping was more of a mom sort of thing.” 

He rolled his eyes. “I think it would have been weirder for everyone if I had been interested in talking about buying bras. Believe me, you guys didn’t want me there. No one wants to shop with their dad.” He rubbed the back of his head.

“You’re right,” she chuckled. “We got away with WAY more clothing that showed a lot more skin without you there.” 

He groaned. “Okay, okay. I don’t want to even think about any of that.” Relieving his daughter's teenage years was not on his bucket list. He turned the camera and panned around the girls section of the store. “What do I need?” 

“Wellllll,” she dragged out the L. “You probably need to suck it up and buy her some bras and underwear. Then pajamas and some day clothes. Oh, socks and shoes,” she added. 

He took a breath and relaxed a bit. Kathleen would drive the fashion bus, narrowly avoiding the inevitable train wreck. 

As he slipped through the aisles of clothing, reality began to set in. He was bringing home a kid. A girl. A traumatized thirteen-year-old girl. 

As he put three approved outfits into his cart, he felt a sort of elated apprehension. The feeling was akin to the apprehension he felt the last few weeks of every one of Kathy’s pregnancies. There was joy, but there was also fear. Another baby meant life would never be what it once was, and whatever comfortable rhythm their lives had settled in would be destroyed. 

Hannah wasn’t a baby. She wasn’t a long-awaited infant that had been carefully prepared for over nine long months. They wouldn’t speculate over if her eyes resembled his or if she had her brother’s nose.

She wasn’t a baby, but her presence in his life felt significant. Deep in his soul he knew their entire reality was about to shift forever. 

-000-

She could have shopped for Hannah herself. She knew that, but a small part of her wanted to punish him for dragging them both into a vortex of change and uncertainty. Things had been good—great, even—but like always, he had to recklessly throw them both over a metaphorical cliff. 

You jump, I jump, Jack, she thought. And wasn’t that the truth. Even if he didn’t throw them both over, she would inevitably jump in after him. 

She knew she sent him on the errand partially out of spite, but her biggest reason for sending him was to give her the opportunity to spend time with Hannah. Her attachment to both Elliot and Noah formed almost instantaneously, but she remained more guarded when Olivia spoke with her. 

Talking to victims normally came naturally, but when talking with Hannah, she felt as if her mouth were full of cotton balls. Every conversation felt forced, and Olivia couldn’t get a read on why. It could have something to do with Hannah’s life experience, but Olivia also acknowledged her own reticence as part of the problem. Hannah was coming home with them, and perhaps that added more pressure. 

Fostering Noah, and even Calvin, had felt natural. For a moment Olivia considered the possibility that her hesitance stemmed from Hannah’s gender. She was a girl. Olivia didn’t know the first thing about parenting a girl, and it wasn’t like she shared a particularly warm relationship with her own mother. Parenting a boy felt natural. Parenting a girl felt like a recipe for epic failure. 

Olivia swallowed deeply, and her eyes drifted to Hannah, who was staring blankly in the direction of the window. Hannah’s heart monitor chirped rhythmically, cutting through the thick silence. 

There was good silence, and there was silence like what currently sat heavily in the room. She was going to screw this up. She knew it. Still, sitting in silence probably seemed like disinterest, and that was not at all how Olivia felt. She wanted to know this girl. She wanted to care for her the way the men in her life already seemed to. She couldn’t achieve that level of care if she didn’t put herself out there. There was an excellent chance of failure, but she had to try. 

“You know,” she began nervously, “I haven’t seen Elliot so…protective of someone for a long time.”

Hannah blinked heavily until her blue eyes focused on Olivia. “Really?” She asked as if she couldn’t grasp the concept of someone actually wanting to keep her safe.”

Olivia’s heart clenched in her chest. “Yeah. He, uh, always sort of removes himself.” Olivia dropped her gaze to her hands. “I guess we all kind of do that. In our line of work.” 

Hannah absorbed that information. “You,” she pulled in a deep breath. “You help out kids a lot?” 

Olivia nodded. “I do. Elliot used to do it more than he does now.”

“I’m…” Hannah bit her quivering lip. “Never mind.” 

Olivia prodded gently, hoping that with a little push they might gain some ground. “You can talk to me, Hannah. All we want to do is help you. I promise.” 

“I... I know. I just.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s against the rules. Talking to people. If they knew I was talking to cops. Child protective services." Her tiny frame shuddered. 

Olivia reached for Hannah’s bony fingers and squeezed them gently. “I want to tell you something about Elliot and about myself.” 

“Okay?” Hannah said in a soft, shaky voice. 

“We both…” Olivia began. “Neither of us had great childhoods, and the job…” she shook her head. “It’s not an easy job, but the thing about Elliot…” Olivia found herself smiling despite the trembling of her voice. “He’s a fighter, and he’s loyal. Once he’s decided to defend someone, he will fight for them until the day he dies. He’s…He’s not like that with everyone, but he is with the ones he loves.” 

“He doesn’t know me.” 

“No. He doesn’t. But his intuition… people don’t give him enough credit. He’s protected me since the day he met me without knowing me at all. He just… I guess you can say he knows who his people are.” She knew she wasn’t being clear, and maybe she could use the same explanation Elliot once gave her. “He says his soul just knows.” 

A memory tugged at the edge of her consciousness. 

“Why me?” She asked. 

There was a sense of safety in that moment. They lay tangled together, bare skin against bare skin, his strong arms wrapped around hers, creating a cocoon of safety and warmth she never experienced with any other person alive. 

“Hmm?” Based on the deep, heavy quality of his voice, she knew he was only moments away from sleep. 

“You say you always knew. How did you know? Why did you choose me?” 

His eyes opened, intense blue holding her captive. “I just…” he lifted a hand to her face, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. “I just knew. I can’t explain it really. I just...” he hesitated, and she could feel his nervousness. He was about to share something deeply personal, something that made him hesitate. He never really did that anymore, so her interest piqued. 

Sensing his need for encouragement, she dropped a kiss on his chest, just above his thumping heart. “Tell me,” she encouraged gently.

He sucked in a breath, and she felt the sudden tension tighten the muscles in his body. “I felt it. I just knew. I know this is weird, and I know it’s probably not something that makes sense, or maybe it’s not real to you, or maybe it is. I don’t know. I just,” he rambled. 

“Elliot, stop.” She cut off his rambling. “Real or not, whatever you felt was real to you.” She tightened her arms around his middle. “Tell me.” 

“My soul knew, Liv. Maybe it wasn’t immediate, but it was quick. I just knew that you were important. I knew you were my, my,” he pinched his eyes shut, “my family. You were a part of me. My soul knew you were important. You were one of mine. I can’t explain it, Liv.” He shook his head. “It was like the first moment the doctors placed my babies in my arms. Maybe a little different, but that instant connection is the best way to explain it. I just knew you were going to be an important part of my life. I knew you were one of mine.” 

Hannah’s eyes began to water. “And you?” She whispered, a sort of desperation hid beneath the surface of the question. 

Olivia knew the answer had to be honest. Hannah would know if any sort of hesitance or deception hid behind her words. 

Olivia covered Hannah’s hand with hers. “I don’t know you Hannah, but I know that you are important. I know that the two most significant people in my life, the people I trust most, want you to be a part of our lives.” Olivia closed her eyes, readying herself to expose a bit of vulnerability. “I’m worried about so many things…I don’t know how this is all going to work and that scares me.” She opened her eyes again, hoping to reassure the child laying in front of her. “But I trust them, and I guess I feel it too.” She swallowed the lump beginning to form in her throat.

“Feel what?” Hannah questioned softly. 

“You are going to change everything.” 

Chapter Text

“Well…” Olivia began. “I think you might have cleared out the girls clothing section. She chuckled as she assessed the sea of shopping bags filling the trunk of her SUV. 

Elliot rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Yeah, I know. I didn’t know what she would like, and Kathleen wasn’t exactly a conservative shopping buddy.” 

Olivia laughed out loud. “You had to call Katie?” 

“Well, yeah. I know I have daughters, but it wasn’t like I shopped for them all.” 

“True.” He rarely found time to do any family shopping, really. In fact, Olivia may have bought more gifts with his credit card than he ever did himself. 

He closed the trunk with a thump. “This whole thing is... it’s a lot. I want to make sure she’s comfortable. I want her to have what she needs.” 

Olivia reached out and gently squeezed his elbow. 

He caught her hand before she could let it fall to her side. “I’m not under any illusion that it’s going to be easy or that any of this will change the shit she’s been through, but I…” his eyes lowered to his feet, “I want to experience something better or know life is better than what she’s experienced the last thirteen years.”

A light smile pulled at the corner of her mouth despite all of her attempts to remain angry with him. He was a complicated man, and sometimes he made her lose her goddamn mind, but he always did what he thought was right, even when it came at a great personal expense. 

“What?” returning her almost smile with a half grin of his own.

She shook her head. “Nothing.” 

His smile grew, and she knew he already figured out her thoughts. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his side before kissing her temple. He said nothing, but the love had been relayed all the same. 

For a moment they silently savored each other’s nearness, but the sliding of the hospital’s automatic doors immediately snared their attention. 

A nurse pushed Hannah through the double doors. Olivia had given Hannah a cozy pair of pink pajamas before the doctor did his final exam. Elliot had bought her what they assumed was the correct size, but the clothes still appeared to swallow her up. 

Olivia made a mental note to schedule an appointment with a stylist and begin the task of teaching Hannah how to care for her beautiful curls. The nursing staff had done their best, but Olivia put an end to Hannah’s torture and called them off. Her hair needed care, but Olivia couldn’t stand causing the young teen any more pain. 

Elliot opened the door to the back passenger seat and pressed the button on the lower section of the seat. The mechanical sound of the automatic recline hummed as he achieved a satisfactory semi-reclining position. He turned just as Hannah tried to push herself up from the wheelchair. Both Olivia's and Elliot’s hands shot out to help stabilize her unsteady form. 

“Thanks.” She whispered but sheepishly. “I keep forgetting that I can’t move like normal.”

“It’s okay,” Olivia reassured her. “It will take a little getting used to.” 

Hannah nodded, and Elliot hefted the bulk of her weight as they helped her into the SUV. Once she was buckled and tucked snugly beneath a fuzzy teal blanket Elliot had bought from the hospital's gift shop, Elliot shut the door. His blue eyes drifted to hers, and she easily read his apprehension. 

With a gentle squeeze of his elbow, she silently provided a small measure of support. It was unbelievable, but they were doing this. Together. 

-000- 

Elliot dropped the transmission in park in front of the 1-6. He left the SUV running, eyes silently asking Olivia to stay even if he knew she wouldn’t. 

“You won’t be long?” 

She sighed. “I hope not. I’m tired.” She ran a hand through her hair. “But I need to brief my team and get started on what little information we have to work with.” 

Elliot’s eyes drifted to Hannah, who slept soundly in the backseat. “She just needs some rest. She's far enough away from everything; maybe she will be more open with us.” 

Olivia glanced back at the girl tucked beneath the fuzzy blanket. “I hope so, but you know as well as I do that these things take time.” 

“Of course.” Elliot agreed. “You get your team goin, and I’ll get her settled. He reached for her hand over the center console. “Do you want me to swing back here to get you?” 

She shook her head. “No. I don’t know how long this is going to take.” Her eyes once again drifted to the young teen in the back. “Worry about her. I’ll get a ride to your place. Lizzie is still planning on picking Noah up from school, right?” 

Elliot nodded. “Yeah. She took a day off today. She said she had some errands, but I suspect she wanted to make sure Noah would have a fun afternoon with her.” 

Olivia smiled. “He always does. They spoil him too much. All of them.” 

Elliot shrugged. He wanted to tell her it was because they all felt like Noah was their little brother. They all felt like he was a part of them, one of them, but Olivia’s heated words echoed through his mind and ultimately held him back. 

My son. He’s my son. 

Instead he rolled the tension from his neck and added, “They all love him.” It was a simple statement and really didn’t accurately represent the bond his children had formed with Noah. They didn’t just love him. It was so much more than that. 

Knowing they didn’t have time to have any sort of argument or discussion he just swallowed back his rising frustration and said, “Better get outta here.” He glanced in the rearview mirror at Hannah who had shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I want to get her home and out of this car.” 

Olivia bit her lip like she was holding back something. He wanted to call her out on it, but Hannah whimpered in the backseat, making him feel more urgency to get her in a more comfortable place. 

Olivia stepped back and shut the passenger side door. She gave him an uncertain little wave as he put the SUV back into drive. He nodded in return but couldn’t hold back the sigh that pressed out from his chest. 

They would be okay. They had been through worse fights than this one. They would be okay. At least he hoped so. 

-000-

Olivia assigned her detectives different tasks, prioritizing nailing down Hannah’s identity. They needed to know who this girl was and what sort of family they were dealing with. She greatly suspected that Hannah belonged to the nomadic group that a few authorities mentioned, but that meant there wasn’t really a way to be sure unless they brought the parents in or Hannah decided to talk. She wasn’t certain which impossibility would occur first. 

She didn’t bother flipping her office lights on before tossing the newly created file on the center of her desk. Her chair called her name, and she pulled it towards her before settling into it with a sigh. 

Not even a minute later, a familiar rhythmic tap sounded on the door frame. She didn’t open her eyes. “Come in, Fin.” She turned her chair in the direction of the door and finally opened her eyes. “You might as well shut the door behind you.” She knew what he was doing. Checking in, like he always did when he read through the bullshit she fed everyone else. 

He did as he was told, closing the door behind him with a click. He found his way to the chair in front of her desk and leaned back with a sort of familiarity that warmed her heart. 

“So.” He threaded his fingers together and rested them on his chest while leaning back in the chair slightly. “Wanna fill me in on what's really goin down? You don’t normally fly outta here without a detailed game plan in place, so I’m thinking there’s more to this whole thing than “Stabler found a kid in the woods.” He lifted an eyebrow. “And what’s up with that anyway? Brother is like a kid magnet.” 

Olivia leaned forward and began aimlessly flipping through the tiny file in front of her, buying her time to answer. “I’m not sure where to start.” 

“How bout you start with whatever is actually bothering you. We’ve dealt with cases like this before and I know Noah bein there wasn’t exactly what you’d want, but…” he let the thought hang in the air. 

“It’s just…” She shut the folder and slid it away from her. Her fingers wrapped around the compass that nearly always adorned her neck. “Noah found her.” 

“Shit,” Fin muttered. 

“Yeah,” she agreed with a grimace. “I really didn’t handle it well.” 

Fin remained in his relaxed position, and she knew he was choosing to listen rather than pepper her with questions. 

“I mean. Not at all.” She shook her head. “I said some stupid stuff, and Elliot’s acting like things are fine, and then he volunteered us to foster Hannah without asking me, and I can’t help but wonder if the whole thing was a weird attempt to lash out at me for the shit I said before I got to the hospital.” 

Fin nodded to indicate he heard her, but remained quiet while he processed things. Finally he spoke up. “I don’t think Elliot would put the kid in the middle of somethin’ just to spite you. He can be a jackass, but not that much of a jackass.” He eyed her warily before asking, “I’m not sure if I should ask what you said that has you all wound up and him all mopey.” 

Olivia’s eyes held his gaze before dropping her head into one hand. “I, uh, I sort of played the, uh, mom card. I told him that I’m the one who gets to make decisions for Noah because he’s my son.” She emphasized the word ‘my.’. 

Fin watched her silently for a moment. “Well, he is your son. I think that’s pretty obvious.” 

She groaned and pushed herself away from her desk. “It’s not that. Of course he’s mine. Legally he’s all mine, but after all this time, after everything we’ve been through, you don’t think Elliot deserves some say in what happens with Noah? You don’t think that what I said cut him down because he thinks of Noah as one of his own children?” 

Fin sighed and leaned forward. “Look, Liv. You know as well as I do that you have mad skills when it comes to hitting a man where it hurts.” He chuckled. “I thank God that I’ve managed to stay on the spectator end of those jabs, but I feel like I know you better than anyone, and I don’t think any of this is about Noah.” 

She couldn’t help her eye roll even if deep down she knew he was right. “What’s it about then?” She challenged him. 

Fin chuckled, and his light attitude infuriated her even more. 

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I just know what you are like when you are avoiding shit, and it’s pretty damn obvious you're avoiding somethin’.” 

Her eyes narrowed. There was something simultaneously comforting and maddening about Fin’s ability to see right through her. Only a handful of people do it and very few felt brave enough to call her out on it. 

After a few moments of strained silence, she finally cracked. “Fine,” she grumbled. “It isn’t just about Noah.” She held up a finger. “But he is part of this too. Even if that’s…” she sighed. “I, uh, found a ring in the bathroom drawer.” 

Fin snorted and slapped his knee in amusement. “That’s all? God Liv. From the way you were actin’ I thought somehow Kathy Stabler had risen from her grave.” 

“Shut up,” she complained. “It’s just. We never talked about…that step.” 

“Oh come on,” he chuckled lightly. “That man probably had that ring a week after you were official. Hell, he probably had it before then.” He winked playfully. “Probably got it when he bought you that compass.” 

Her fingers instinctively wrapped around the cool pendant. “He wouldn’t have…” but he would. She knew he would. He was just that much of an idealistic dreamer. If anyone called Elliot an idealist to his face, he would laugh his ass off, but it was true in a lot of ways. He had a vision of what he wished the world could be and sacrificed every part of himself to make that vision a reality. 

Fin’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “I’m not gonna get in the middle, but if it’s buggin’ you enough, maybe you should ask him about it. That man is the marryin’ kind, but I suspect that he would forgo that if you were against it.” 

But she wasn’t against it. Surprised a little, but not necessarily against it. It was just a big step…It was a lot, and she hadn’t had more than one evening to process the idea before their lives took another dramatic turn. Fin was right. She should talk to him, but when? Their schedules were insane as it was, and now they had Hannah… 

“You’re right.” 

Fin grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “Usually am. About what exactly?” 

“You shouldn’t get in the middle of it,” she said with a smile. 

He shook his head again and pushed himself out of his chair. “Yeah yeah. You gotta know I’m just looking out for my number two girl.” 

She laughed, knowing Phoebe would be pleased she held that number one spot. “I know. I do. We’ll figure it out. We always do.” 

“You’re right about that.” He stepped out of her office, holding the door frame briefly. “Don’t stay here too long, okay? I’ll keep everyone in line. “You're family needs ya.” 

She felt touched by his consideration. 

“Thank you, Fin.” 

Chapter Text

Elliot knew his daughters had been there simply by the smell of the Glade plug-in on the wall. Apple spice or some shit like that. Katie always said it made everything feel warmer and more inviting, but he thought it smelled like fake apple pies. 

He kept a hand on Hannah’s elbow as he guided her down the hall. Had Hannah been one of his own daughters, he would have scooped her up and carried her where she needed to go, but up to this point, Elliot had tried to keep his physical presence minimal and unimposing. 

They knew she had been abused, but it was unclear if any sexual abuse had taken place. She wasn’t afraid of him, which is surprising considering the level of physical abuse she must have endured. He hoped to continue to build that trust. 

“I’m going to put you in my guest room.” He tilted his head toward the door across the hall. “Olivia and I will be just across the hall, and Noah will be in the next room over.” 

“Okay,” she responded softly. 

“I told my girls to get the room ready. It’s been a little while since my mom has used it.” He chuckled to himself. “She kept some pretty weird knickknacks, so I made sure someone got things ready for you ahead of time.” 

Hannah’s gaze dropped to her feet. “You didn’t have to do that. I mean, I don’t want to be in the way or anything. 

Elliot reached for the door handle. “You won’t be. Promise,” he said sincerely. 

She nodded, but remained silent as he opened the door. 

His jaw dropped and Hannah’s eyes widened when the door swung open. The room wasn’t at all how he left it. He didn’t know which of his daughters took the lead on the room transformation, but his heart swelled with pride. Despite his many imperfections, he and Kathy raised some pretty great kids. 

Hannah’s hand remained on his forearm as he led her inside. The dresser that had once been cluttered with his mother’s things had been cleaned off and replaced with various hair care products, bracelets, and a stuffed bear. The bedspread had been replaced with a teal and gray striped set, including fuzzy pillows and a coordinating minky blanket. To the side of the bed was a bean bag chair that matched the whole set. 

Elliot guided Hannah to the edge of the bed so she could sit, but her eyes never stopped taking in everything in the room. “This, this, it’s for me?” 

Elliot chuckled. “It’s clearly not for me.” From the corner of his eye he noticed a sticky note stuck to the mirror above the dresser. He reached for the note, plucking it off the corner of the mirror.

Noah and I *might * have gone a little overboard. We wanted her to feel comfortable, and hopefully this helps. Love you! 

-Maureen, Kathleen, and Noah

“What’s it say?” Hannah asked as she scooted herself closer to the headboard. 

“A note from the kids.” He lifted it up so she could see it better. “They want you to feel comfortable.” 

Hannah glanced around the room. “I’ve never had nice things like this. Never.” 

Elliot sensed an opportunity and sat next to her on the bed. “Your parents never bought you stuff for your room?” 

She aimlessly picked at the fabric of her pajamas. “I never had my own room or anything.”

Elliot nodded. “I always had to share with my brothers. I hated not having privacy. Plus they were always acting like idiots.” 

Hannah let a small smile through. “I didn’t mind having my sister with me. The other kids too. It was warmer.” 

“Other kids?” Elliot asked nonchalantly. His heart pounded. Hannah had never given them any real clues to where she came from. 

Her eyes finally landed on her backpack—the one Elliot bought for her to put her things in at the hospital. “Can you grab my bag?” 

Elliot reached for the backpack. He resigned himself to the fact that she wasn’t going to give any more details about her family. 

She took the backpack from his hands and unzipped it. There wasn’t much in there, but she pulled the stuffed animal Noah had bought for her at the hospital. Once she retrieved it, she tossed the bag onto the other side of the bed. 

She held the animal close to her chest, refusing to make eye contact as she continued. “My family wasn’t the only family that lived there. I mean, there were other families that lived in the same area as we did.” 

Elliot sensed that Hannah was intentionally remaining vague. He knew he was walking a tightrope. He needed more information, but he couldn’t press too hard if he wanted to get it. Patience was the name of the game. Instead of demanding a location or even the number of kids stuck in whatever hellhole she managed to crawl out of, he asked a more natural question and hoped it might lead the conversation where he ultimately needed it to go. “Do you have any brothers?” Up until this point, Hannah only ever mentioned a sister. 

“No, but I helped a lot with the younger kids. The other kids weren’t really my family, but I always felt like the younger kids were my brothers and sisters too.” Before he had a chance to ask how many younger kids were there, she asked him a question. “How many kids do you have? I know you’ve mentioned you have daughters…and Noah said that Dickie was your son too.” 

“Yes, and Eli,” he added. 

“Oh yeah.” She seemed a little embarrassed about forgetting Eli. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. You’ve had a tough few days and have met a lot of people.” He laughed to himself. “I’ve got a lot of kids. Most of the time I can’t keep them all straight,” he joked. The comment earned a small smile from Hannah. “I’ve got three girls and three boys,” he said, finally answering her question. “Maureen is the oldest. She’s married with two kids. Kathleen is next. She helped me pick out all the clothes, so if you hate them, you can blame her.” That earned him another smile. “Lizzie and Dickie are twins. Eli came along a lot later, and you met Noah.” He shook his head. “Try not to worry about remembering them all. They all sort of pop in and out of here like they own the place, so you’ll probably know everyone eventually.” 

“Okay,” she said while gently toying with the stuffed puppy’s ear. “Where does Noah fit exactly? You said you and Olivia have only been together for a little while. Noah doesn’t call you Dad or anything, but he looks like you. Both of you, actually.”

Elliot adjusted his weight so he was facing more towards Hannah. “We get that a lot.” For more reasons than he could ever explain in one conversation. “It’s a weird coincidence.” Or fate, as he would like to believe. “Olivia adopted him when he was a baby. I was…I wasn’t around then. I didn’t meet Noah until a few years ago.” 

For a moment Hannah sat silently, rubbing her thumb over the plush fabric of the stuffed dog. “He’s lucky,” she finally said. “You know, to have you, and a mom that really loves him. Not everyone gets to have that.” 

Elliot understood that more than most. 

Somewhere in the distance he heard a key jingle in a lock. He hoped it was Olivia coming home, but it was a bit of a crapshoot based on how many people in his life had keys to his place. 

“That’s probably Liv, he said while tugging back the comforter. “Why don’t you get some rest?” He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. “Noah’s going to be home from school in a few hours, and I doubt he will give you a moment's peace when he gets here.” 

Hannah smiled, a little wider than she had minutes before. “It’s okay,” she said with a yawn. “I’m used to having lots of people around.” She burrowed herself further beneath the heavy blanket. “It feels weird when I’m by myself.” Her eyes closed as she rolled onto her uninjured side. 

Elliot tucked the comforter over her a little more snugly. “Well, you are at the right place then. We’ve got lots of family. You won’t have to ever be alone if you don’t want to be.” 

Elliot moved towards the door. Before passing through it he asked, “Open or shut?” 

Hannah shifted her weight and mumbled something unintelligible, obviously too sleepy to really care. He pulled the door most of the way closed, ensuring he left it open enough to hear her if she needed anything but closed enough to muffle whatever sounds he made around the apartment. 

In the hallway he heard the familiar sound of Olivia depositing her keys and purse on the counter before heading to one of the cabinets for a glass of water. He smiled to himself. The glass of water the second she got home was a well-worn habit. He figured she was so distracted or busy during the day that she would forget to hydrate, and her body would suddenly remember she was totally parched the minute she got home. 

As expected, she was leaning against one of the counters, a fresh glass of water in hand. 

“Didn’t think I’d see you for a while,” he thought aloud. “Figured you’d try to avoid me for a little bit longer.” 

She finished her glass of water and placed it in the empty sink. “Fin kicked me out. He said I either needed to get some sleep or work things out with you.” 

Elliot folded his arms and leaned his hip against the counter. “Which one do you want to do first?” 

She took a few steps toward him. “I want to sleep, but I think we need to get this,” she motioned between them, “figured out if we are planning on parenting two kids together. Even if it’s not permanent. She’d been through enough, and we can’t be at each other's throats.” She took another step closer so she was within arm's reach. “I didn’t mean it when I said Noah was only mine.” 

Elliot shook his head. “I know that. I do.” 

“But?” She prompted. 

He pressed the heel of his hand into his eye. “I don’t know, Liv.” He dropped his hand back down to his side. “I want to explain it, but I can’t. I’m always worried that you are going to wake up and realize I’m not what you want, and Noah…God, that kid is everything to me. The idea that you could leave at any time—and take him with you—scares the shit out of me.” 

Olivia folded her arms. “Seriously? You are seriously questioning my commitment here? If you remember, I’m not the one who took off for ten years without a word. Ghosting is your MO. Not mine.” 

“Is this how it’s going to be? Is this going to be your ammo for the rest of our lives? I left, so that makes me a crappy person?” 

Olivia groaned and moved around him towards the living room. “That’s not even close to what I said!” 

“You don’t have to say something for it to be obvious. You’ve always been Saint Olivia, and I’ve been your bonehead partner. Your worse half.” 

Olivia threw her hands up in the air. “I’ve never tried to be a saint, Elliot, and I’m not planning on bringing up your leaving for forever. I’ve forgiven you for all of that. I truly have, but just because I’ve chosen to forgive doesn’t mean that the hurt won’t crop up! I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m not even saying I’m worried you’ll leave again. I just…” She sighed and dropped herself onto the couch, her head falling into her hands. 

For a moment Elliot just stood at the end of the couch, struggling to find words to make all of it better. He wanted a blanket apology. A Band-Aid to fix the bullet hole he left all those years ago, but no such fix existed. 

Elliot carefully sat down on the couch next to her and waited for her to find the words to express herself. 

After a few moments she lifted her head from her hands. “I need you to trust me.” 

“I’ve never trusted anyone more in my life.” 

“But not in this way. El, in a work situation I know you’ll always have my back, and I think you know that I will have yours, but this… this relationship is different than what we had before. I think we are both holding ourselves back while we wait for the other shoe to drop.” 

Elliot breathed a slow breath through his nose. “I don’t want to hold back.” He dropped a hand on her knee. “I’m in this.” 

“I am too.” She lifted her hand to cup his cheek. “And I need you to trust me. I’m not going anywhere. Noah’s not going anywhere.” She smiled gently. “You’re stuck with us, Stabler. For better or worse.”

Chapter Text

Elliot’s eyes snapped open with the sound of the apartment door slamming shut. The sound of footsteps filled the apartment, and Elliot knew Lizzie had gotten home with Noah. 

He lifted his head. He convinced Olivia to lie down after their much-needed conversation on the couch. He had originally intended to get her settled and check on Hannah, but something about the way she looked at him when she settled onto his bed made him pause. He knew she wouldn’t ask, and he knew what she wanted anyway.

Without a word, he slipped his shoes off his feet and settled in beside her, tucking her hips back and draping his arm over her center in a tight spoon. She pressed back further, and he tightened his hold. 

That was something they had in common—that need for touch. God only knew how they managed to maintain a professional distance from each other for so long. There was a physicality to both of them, and they both seemed to crave the comfort physical touch could provide. 

Her fingers threaded through his, holding him tightly. A few minutes later she had drifted off, and he found himself dozing off behind her. 

Elliot carefully peeled himself away from Olivia before Noah came thundering in. He wanted Liv to get some rest. He could handle whatever Noah needed. 

He softly shut his bedroom door and padded down the hallway towards the kitchen. He found Noah dumping the contents of his backpack on the counters while Lizzie pulled an orange and a granola bar from the cabinet. She tossed it towards Noah, who had finally looked up in Elliot’s direction. 

He scrambled to his feet. “How’s Hannah? Is she awake? Can I see her?” 

Elliot felt exhausted just from listening to him. He stepped into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. “She's pretty exhausted, buddy. She needs to sleep so she can heal up.” 

Noah bit his lip but eventually nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He glanced around the kitchen and living room. “Where’s Mom?”

“She’s resting too.” Honestly, he could happily finish his nap with Olivia if given the opportunity. 

Lizzie clocked his exhaustion. “Hey, Noh,” she stepped around the counter and unzipped his backpack. “Why don’t you pull out that math assignment your teacher wanted you to redo? I can stick around a little bit, and we can go over it.” 

That was probably the last thing Noah wanted to do with his afternoon, but doing the assignment with Lizzie would be substantially better than figuring it out himself.

He sighed. “Yeah, fine.” He grumbled his agreement. He reached in his bag to pull out the offending math assignment and a pencil. He sat on one of the barstools, and Liz took the one right next to him. 

Elliot caught her eyes over Noah’s head. He mouthed a quick “thank you” before Lizzie shooed him away.

-000-

Lizzie had gotten Noah moving on his homework, and once he seemed to understand the assignment, she left him to work through the worksheet. 

For a moment she thought about heading home, but her apartment was empty, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to marinate in her own loneliness. 

Her girlfriend had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to study abroad for a year as part of her PhD program. She had only been gone for a month, and Lizzie was beginning to wonder if they would last in a long-term long-distance relationship. 

She shook away the gloomy thoughts and remembered Noah had a book she lent him that he had just finished. “Hey, do you mind if I snag that book before I forget?” 

“Yeah. It’s on the bookshelf under the window, I think. His brow furrowed as he erased a wrong answer from his paper. 

“Thanks,” she said as she wandered down the hallway. Noah’s was the furthest down the hall—closest to the bathroom. 

Months ago they had repurposed Eli’s old bedroom into a room for Noah so he had a permanent place to sleep on the nights he stayed at her dad’s place. Eli seemed cool with it, and they purposefully kept bunk beds so Eli still had a place to crash on his infrequent visits home. 

She made it partly down the hallway before noticing her dad’s bedroom door had been left wide open. Not wanting to disturb him with whatever she and Noah ended up doing with the afternoon, she moved closer so she could close it but paused, smiling to herself at the scene before her. 

Her dad had all but flopped onto the bed next to Olivia. The comforter had been pulled back, and he hadn’t bothered pulling it over himself. Olivia remained half tucked beneath it, but even in sleep she found herself tucked as tightly as possible against Elliot’s chest. He had draped his leg over hers, as if he couldn’t bear having a whisper of space between them. 

She shook her head and gently closed the door. Warmth filled her heart at her dad’s happiness. For as long as she could remember, Lizzie could never describe her dad as happy. He was a good man who did what he thought was right, but it always came at great personal expense. He loved his job. He loved Olivia, but duty and obligation had tied him to her mother. In the end, he threw his relationship with Olivia on the holy sacrificial altar of faith and duty. 

He had hurt them both, and while her mom always insisted that their marriage was good and they were happy, Lizzie couldn’t ever believe it. She knew what her father was like when he was with Liv, and she knew that whatever happiness her mom had imagined had been a carefully constructed illusion made by her father. 

Liz would always love her mother. Always. But her mother was human. She had made mistakes (her father too), but Liz knew so many of those mistakes—those choices—had been made out of fear. She had always been afraid of Olivia, knowing that if she wanted to, Olivia could take Elliot away, and he would be powerless to stop himself. 

She sighed and stepped away from the door. Olivia had spent the past few years punishing Elliot for his absence and punishing herself for loving him long before she should have. It was hard to watch an obvious door to happiness open but left vacant by two people who no longer trusted the concept of happiness. It had been painful to watch, but it all seemed worth it now. 

Before she could take another step in the direction of Noah’s room, a soft voice caught her attention. “Hello?” 

Liz immediately glanced in Noah’s direction, but he had his earbuds in his ears while focusing on the worksheet in front of him. Her eyes drifted to the guest room door that sat slightly ajar. 

She closed the distance between her position and the door before slowly pushing it open. 

A young girl sat up in the queen-sized bed. Fluffy pillows supported her back, and the fuzzy teal comforter lay tucked around her hips. 

A strange feeling of familiarity washed over Lizzie. Something about the girl’s face felt like a far-off memory she couldn’t quite hold onto. It was equal parts unsettling and surreal. 

Maybe this was why Noah felt attached, maybe this feeling was exactly what her dad had been feeling, and maybe this was why her dad had pushed so hard to get this child into his home. 

“Hi,” Liz offered gently while taking a careful step closer. She only knew the basics of this girl’s story. She had no clue about whatever trauma might have haunted her past.

“Hi,” the girl returned nervously. 

“I’m, uh,” Liz shifted her weight nervously. Why did she feel so nervous? Her students were probably only a year or two older than this girl, but this interaction felt much more high stakes. “I’m Liz, Lizzie.” 

“Oh.” The girl pushed herself up a little more, wincing as she did. “I’m Hannah.” Her eyes dropped to her hands shyly.

“It’s good to meet you,” Liz said warmly. “Do you need anything?” 

Hannah’s eyes remained on her hands. “Um. Yeah. I… could I have some water?” 

“Of course,” Liz said with a smile. 

A teal sparkly tumbler sat on the dresser. Lizzie realized they probably went overboard on the whole teal thing, but it was literally the only thing she knew about the girl. 

She picked it up and handed it to Hannah, who greedily sucked water through the straw. When she was finished, she handed the water back to Liz. “My throat has felt so dry.” 

“I bet.” Liz motioned towards the edge of the bed. “Mind if I sit? Keep you company for a little bit?” 

Hannah nodded her consent. 

Liz sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, careful to give Hannah a comfortable amount of space. 

A beat of silence passed between them, but to Lizzie's surprise Hannah spoke first. “You’re one of Elliot’s daughters.” 

Liz smiled. “Yeah, I am.” 

“Thought so.” Hannah’s vivid blue eyes lifted. “You look like him, kinda. I mean, like your eyes, I guess.” 

Lizzie chuckled lightly. “I get that a lot, well, the eyes at least. Most people think I look like my mom. Except the eyes. All of us got the “Stabler eyes,” I guess.” 

Hannah nodded but remained thoughtful. “Olivia’s not your mom then, right?” 

Bless this poor child in her attempts to grasp their complicated family dynamics.

“Biologically, no, but she’s always been a part of my life.” God, she didn’t mean to make this more complicated for the kid.

Hannah nodded, but Liz had an idea. She glanced around the room until she found a spiral-bound notebook she had bought for Hannah on a whim. 

It might be silly, but she thought maybe if Hannah knew how everyone was related, it might make her more comfortable. Even if it only helped a little, Liz wanted to make this dramatic transition easier.

She opened the notebook and scooted a little closer to Hannah. She drew out a little rough family tree. She added the names where everyone belonged, including a side branch to include Olivia and Noah. She made sure that they weren’t some side thought, drawing a firm line between her dad’s name and Olivia’s.

“My mom’s name was Kathy. She died.” She cleared her throat to knock back the emotion. “I’m, uh, she died a few years ago.” 

Hannah’s blue eyes deepened with sympathy. “I’m sorry.” 

Liz cleared her throat again. “Yeah, it sucked.” She shook her head and tried to brush her sudden emotion off. “I have two brothers,” she drew two stick figures. “And two sisters.” She drew three female stick figures next to the boys. 

“Dickie and Eli, right?” Hannah pointed to the two boys. 

“Yep.” Liz pointed to the first girl. “Maureen is the oldest. She is pretty busy with her boys, but I’m sure she will be around before too long.” Lizzie smirked. “We Stablers like to be in each other's business. It’s endearing…some of the time.” 

Hannah gave Liz a shy smile as she continued. “Next is Kathleen. You will like her,” Liz chuckled, “everyone does. She’s a little all over the place, but she’s a fun person.” 

“And that’s you,” Hannah said as she pointed to the last female figure. 

Lizzie nodded. “Yeah. Dickie and I came at the same time, but he likes to remind everyone that he was born exactly two minutes earlier.” Liz shook her head. “Like it really matters.” 

“And Eli.” Hannah finished. “He… he was there with Noah and Elliot, but I don’t remember a lot from that.” 

“It’s okay,” Liz said kindly while reaching out to squeeze Hannah’s hand. “He’s back at school, but he’ll come around again. You can meet him properly.” 

Hannah nodded, and her eyes dropped to the makeshift family tree. Lizzie suddenly had an idea, and maybe with a little luck she might be able to get Hannah to open up a little more. Lizzie turned the page of the notebook so a blank page sat on top. She handed Hannah the pen and asked, “What about you? I know our family is big and confusing, but what’s your family like?” 

Hannah tapped the pen nervously, her blue eyes lifted, and Lizzie knew the girl was trying to decide if she should extend this most basic arm of trust. 

Liz waited, remaining nonchalant, but hoping Hannah would take the leap of faith in someone she barely knew. 

Lizzie’s heart thumped so hard she thought it might actually escape the confines of her chest. That is when Hannah put pen to paper and began to draw a rudimentary family tree. 

Chapter Text

Olivia sighed and pressed her forehead against the temperature-controlled leather of her steering wheel. The angry slamming of the SUV door still echoed through the vehicle. Noah had made his feelings about attending school today. 

He had stomped his way through breakfast, complaining about the time and how the first day of school shouldn’t be on a Wednesday. 

While she agreed with his thoughts on the school start date, she knew that wasn’t the actual issue. 

Hannah would have her first meeting with the department’s child psychologist later in the morning, and Noah wanted to be there for her. She loved her son and his gigantic heart, but she worried about his growing attachment to a girl he barely knew. 

She needs me, Mom. 

She could still see his big blue eyes pleading with her, but she held firm. Their lives had turned upside down, and she almost didn’t recognize the family she had grown comfortable with throughout the year. She felt herself grasping for any semblance of sanity, which meant getting back to their routines. 

She lifted her head from the steering wheel and put the car into drive. Her routine demanded coffee after dropping Noah off. She navigated the vehicle in the direction of her favorite coffee cart. 

Despite her desperate attempts to grasp at normal, she knew this day would settle far from it. She needed to brief her team on the cult-like structure of Hannah’s family and discuss their next steps on an investigation well out of their jurisdiction. 

 She parked near the coffee cart and reached for her purse sitting in her passenger seat. She’d grab her coffee and walk the rest of the way to the precinct. Her hand hesitated on the door handle. 

 Better get this day started, she thought with a grimace and pushed the door open. 

-000-

💪🏽Stabler Bro Chat:

N: Will one of you save me from this day? 

E: Can’t do that, brother. Unless you can pay for a plane ticket. 

N: 🙄

E: What? You asked on the chat, so I figured it was a blanket invitation. 

E: I can’t come get you, but we can talk if you want. Can you call? 

N: I wish. It’s only second period. 

E: Damn. Sorry, man. Didn’t realize you were at school.

N: First day. 

E: And I didn’t even get a first day of school picture…

D: Sorry, guys. I left my phone at my desk. 

D: I got the first day of school picture. 

N: Are you serious? Mom sent you that? 

D: Sure did. You’re a handsome fella.

N: I know you are just trying to cheer me up, but please stop. 

D:…

E: Alright. Here’s the thing about big brothers. The more you complain, the more they are going to do whatever is annoying the hell out of you. 

N: Great. 

D: I’m just looking at the picture now. You look pretty dapper in that button-up. 

N: Stooooooooop I’m begging. 

D: No can do. I like that she made you pose in front of the door and everything. 

N: God, I’m going to mute you. 

D: Your mom is such a badass that it’s always weird when she goes all mushy on us. I love the proud mama moments.

N: I honestly can’t tell if you are making fun of me or not.

E: I always just assume that he is. 

N: Good call. 

D: Hey, you gotta be nice to me because I’m the one who is going to bust you out of school for lunch. 

N: Seriously!? 

D: Yeah. I’ll come get you for lunch, but you have to go back after. I’m not risking the wrath of your mother if she finds out I took you out of school for the whole day. 

….. 

…..

D: No response? 

E: Probably got his phone taken away. 

D: 🤣

-000- 

The hall felt eerily quiet as Elliot led Hannah towards the psychologists’ office. He heard her shaky breathing even though she tried to hide it. Her nerves practically radiated off of her, and Elliot wasn’t sure how successful this visit would be. 

At first he suggested she go with Olivia, but Noah jumped in, volunteering to go with her. That was obviously a bad idea, and after all the chaos, Hannah asked Elliot to go with her. He couldn’t say no. Not that he would have anyway. 

He reached for the door to open it for Hannah, but he only opened it a crack before Hannah grabbed his elbow. He let the door fall shut and turned in her direction. 

“I…I don’t know if I can do this.” She stammered. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m scared.” 

Elliot’s heart broke a little at her honest admission. He thought for a moment before squaring her up to him, his hands lightly gripping her upper arms. “It’s okay to be scared, and you don’t have to say anything you don’t want to. Let’s just meet her today. You don’t have to go into anything deep or scary. Let’s just get through the visit, and then. We can get some ice cream or something.” 

Her eyes lit up at the idea of ice cream. “Can we really do that?” 

He smiled warmly. “Yeah, of course. There’s a great place not far from my place.” 

Her smile faded as she glanced over his shoulder into the psychologist’s office. “Will you go back with me?” She began to wring her hands. “I don’t want to go by myself.” 

Elliot felt a warm affection for the child wash over him. There was just something about this girl that made him want to protect her like one of his own. “Of course.” He pulled her into a brief side hug. “I’m not going anywhere. 

-000-

Olivia handed the folded notebook paper to Fin. He carefully opened it and flattened out the creases on his desk. On the other side of him, Bruno leaned against the desk, close enough to look at the paper over Fin’s shoulder. 

“Woah,” Fin said with surprise. “You weren’t kidding when you told me this was probably some weird cult case or somethin’.” 

“Yeah.” Olivia agreed. “She wasn’t really forthcoming with details, but she gave us the basics of her family and a couple of the others in their group.” 

Fin and Bruno studied the hand-drawn document. There were two names—Hannah’s parents. One name was crossed out and another put in its place. On the other side of her dad’s name was the name of another that was not Hannah’s mother. The drop-down from Hannah’s dad showed her and her sister, but the other name had a drop-down as well with two boys names beneath it. Hannah didn’t really explain who the boys were in relation to her, but Olivia suspected they were half-brothers. 

Fin pointed out the name Enoch attached to Hannah’s. “This her dad?” 

“Yes,” Olivia confirmed.

“Is he a pawn or the top dog?” 

Olivia sighed. “I don’t know for sure, but it feels like he is the leader of these people.” 

“Great,” Fin mumbled. “It’s always a good time when we have to deal with psychotic cult leaders and their brainwashed followers.” 

Olivia winced. “I know,” she brought the attention back to the paper, “this is only a few families, and there is likely a lotmore. Based on what Hannah looks like, I suspect we are at least looking at widespread physical abuse.” 

Fin pushed the paper away from him. “Probably much more than that. You know how things go with these wackos. It always turns into some weird sexualized manipulation. I’d be surprised if those kids are completely untouched.” 

Olivia’s stomach turned. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t considered that possibility. She’d done this job long enough to know that Fin was right. Most cult leaders were manipulative as hell. Total sociopaths. 

Bruno pushed himself away from the desk. “Well, where do we start? We obviously can't pull these kids from their parents without cause, and a family tree scribbled in blue pen won't get us warrants.” 

“Hannah is meeting with the psychologist soon. If we are lucky, she will give us a little more direction on this thing.” Even as Olivia said the words, she wasn’t sure she believed it. Hannah was terrified of spilling her family secrets, and Olivia doubted even the most competent therapist would free her secrets. “Until then,” she dug around in her blazer pocket, “call the local deputies and get all the information you can. A lot of it may be rumor. The group is pretty isolated, but maybe they can give us some good background information and steer us in the direction of potential defectors.”

“Most cults have a pretty tight hold on their members. Do you think we will find any?” 

Olivia nodded. “Someone always gets out. We just have to find them.” 

Knowing the complicated psychology of cult members, she wasn’t sure they would find an ex-member. Most end up lying pretty low. After all, leaving a cult is almost as dangerous as a battered wife leaving her husband. It doesn’t matter what setting they’re in; narcissists never like losing control.

-000-

Elliot pressed himself into the corner of the room. He felt certain he wasn’t the one who should be supervising this interview, but after a series of compromises he found himself trying to be invisible in a child psychologist’s office. 

“Hannah,” the woman spoke kindly. “I can see you're nervous.” 

No shit, Elliot thought sarcastically. He bit his tongue and continued his attempts to stay invisible. 

He initially felt uncertain about using the department’s go to psychologist. After Hannah’s initial indifference to Olivia, he questioned the girl’s comfort when it came to female relationships. He suggested that Hannah might prefer a male, but Olivia overruled him. She had worked with this therapist extensively over the years and trusted her. Olivia’s trust wasn’t easily earned so Elliot decided to give the woman a chance. 

Hannah, on the other hand, was less than enthused. She surprised everyone by confiding in Lizzie, but almost immediately afterwards she clammed back up. Elliot knew more than anyone that working with child victims was a two steps forward one step back situation. The progress often felt maddeningly slow, but pushing a child too hard could cripple an investigation indefinitely. 

Hannah crossed her arms and her eyes flitted over to where Elliot stood. He gave her a reassuring nod, hoping that his reassurance would encourage her to open up. 

Her gaze returned to the floor as she answered, “Yeah.” 

The psychologist set her notebook aside and leaned forward. “Hannah.” The woman waited for Hannah’s bright blue eyes to return to her face. “I want you to know that whatever happens here is up to you. We can talk or we can draw or we can even sit here in silence if you want.”

Giving the control back to the victim. 

He knew the playbook, and he wasn’t confident this woman could get any more information than they already had. He figured with more time and stability, Hannah would give them the information they needed. The problem was that they had no idea how long it would take to pull details from her, and if other children were potentially in harm's way, they needed to act. 

Elliot’s eyes lifted from the floor and watched as Hannah nervously played with her bracelet. The silence in the room felt heavy, and everything inside him screamed to move. Pace. Do something. This all felt too soon. The girl practically died a couple days ago and now they expected her to dump all of her secrets into their laps. 

He took a slow breath in from his nose as he tried to curb whatever protective instinct clawed to the surface. 

“I feel like if I say anything then…you gotta understand that we kinda…” Hannah stumbled over her explanations and sighed. Her voice dropped to a nearly inaudible pitch. “I don’t want them to get in any trouble. I shouldn’t even be here. We don’t talk to outsiders—especially cops, but,” her eyes flicked over to Elliot, “a cop saved my life and I…. I don't know what to do.” Her head dropped into her hands as she blinked back tears. “I just don’t know what to do anymore.” 

The psychologist nodded in understanding. “I understand. You love your family, and loyalty is an admirable quality.” The woman thought for a moment before she carefully asked her next question. “We don’t have to talk about your family right now, but maybe you can tell why you were alone in the woods when the Stabler’s found you.” 

Hannah’s eyes widened and darted to Elliot, again seeking reassurance. He nodded, conveying his encouragement, and with a deep breath she began detailing the events of the days leading up to her discovery. 

-000-

Chapter Text

Hannah’s eyes dropped to her hands. “I’m not sure what my plan was, really.” She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just…” Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, holding back something raw. “I needed to get away. I didn’t really think about where I was going. It was stupid, I know, but I just couldn’t stay there anymore. I had to get out of there.”

“Why did you feel like you needed to run away?” the psychologist asked gently, her tone inviting rather than accusatory.

Hannah fidgeted, tugging nervously at the woven bracelet on her wrist. “I don’t… I don’t know,” she said, though the words didn’t ring with conviction.

The psychologist leaned in slightly, her voice quiet but firm. “I think you do know, Hannah. But I also think it’s scary to think about.”

Hannah gave a small, jerky nod, her shoulders curling inward like she was trying to disappear.

“But if we talk about it,” the psychologist continued, her voice softening even more, “then maybe I can help carry that fear for you. Let me help.”

For a moment, Elliot thought she might retreat back into herself. Her eyes drifted away, unfocused, and the silence in the room thickened like fog. Then, suddenly, she spoke—and her voice broke through like the crack of thunder.

“My father told me that God spoke to him.” Her breath hitched. “He said… he said that God wanted me to get married.” Tears welled and slipped from the corners of her eyes, leaving shining tracks on her cheeks. “I kind of expected it eventually. Most girls in our community get married when they’re thirteen or fourteen.”

Elliot felt his stomach twist into a hard knot. The psychologist glanced sideways at him, a silent confirmation passing between them. They both knew exactly what Hannah was implying—how deeply wrong this was.

“I… I expected it, but…” Her voice faltered as she twisted the bracelet tighter around one finger, cutting off the blood flow. “I thought it would be someone younger. Someone closer to my age. But Father… he said I was supposed to fulfill a destiny that… that Rebecca—my sister—couldn’t.”

The psychologist’s voice came carefully, as if she were afraid of the answer but knew she had to ask. “And what destiny is that?”

There was a long pause, and when Hannah finally spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.

“God wants me to marry Rueben.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “I’m supposed to have his baby.” The tears came freely now, spilling from her eyes in hot, steady streams. “I’m not ready to have a baby. I don’t want to get married. I’m just… scared.”

“That’s completely understandable,” the psychologist said softly, but the words felt paper-thin next to the weight of Hannah’s vulnerability.

Without thinking, Elliot pulled up a chair and sat beside her. The protective instinct surged through him, and he couldn’t ignore it.

Then came the question that had been burning a hole in Elliot’s chest.

“How old is Rueben?” the psychologist asked, her tone controlled, but the edge beneath it unmistakable.

Hannah closed her eyes and turned her face away. Her head landed against Elliot’s shoulder with a force that surprised him. He lifted a hand to the back of her head, holding her there gently, grounding her. Her words were muffled, but he felt them reverberate through his bones.

“He’s Father’s second in command.” Her voice trembled. “He’s fifty-six.”

-000-

A wave of nausea, sharp and sickening, rolled through Elliot as her words echoed in his mind. Fifty-six. The number hit him like a punch to the gut. He blinked, but his vision blurred around the edges. His heart pounded in his chest, faster than it should have, thudding in his ears like a warning bell. He closed his eyes, trying to ground himself—breathe in, breathe out—but his limbs had already started to tingle, and a creeping numbness crawled up his arms like frostbite.

A Bible. Plain, leather-bound, lying innocently on a cot.
Toys—plastic dolls with frozen smiles—scattered across a linoleum floor.
A child in a teddy bear nightgown, limp.
The metallic scent of blood—so thick it coated his tongue, so strong it had never really left his nose.

The images slammed into him in rapid succession—raw, unfiltered memories that had waited patiently beneath the surface for just the right trigger. A different girl. A different man with a God complex and a holy lie. But the same nightmare. The same goddamned evil dressed up in faith and obedience.

His lungs felt too tight, like there wasn’t enough air in the room anymore. He tried to focus—tried to separate now from then—but the lines were starting to blur. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His jaw clenched so hard he thought something might crack. The walls were too close. The room was too quiet. The fluorescent lights hummed louder than they should have.

“Detective Stabler?” The psychologist’s voice snapped through the spiral, slicing the fog with just enough force to reach him.

His eyes snapped to her face. She knew. Of course she knew. She’d seen it before—in other patients, in veterans, in survivors who carried invisible shrapnel in their minds. Her expression was calm but laced with concern, her body still and grounded, like she was trying to anchor him.

Elliot rolled his head side to side, trying to loosen the vise clamped down on his neck. His throat felt raw, like he’d swallowed glass. He cleared it hard. “I’m fine,” he said, too quickly, too stiffly. The lie sat heavy in his mouth.

She hesitated. Her eyes searched his face, reading the tremors beneath the surface. Her brow creased slightly. “Do we need to take a break?”

No.
The word flared through him with more force than he expected.
Not now.
Not when Hannah had finally opened up, when her walls had begun to crack and real fear had slipped through. If he broke down now, she’d retreat. She’d see his pain and feel like hers was too much. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t.

He swallowed hard, pulled in a breath that didn’t quite fill his lungs, and forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “We’re good,” he said, voice steadier than he felt.

-000-

The apartment was uncharacteristically silent upon her arrival to his apartment. Well, mostly silent. Somewhere in the distance she could hear thumping.

She followed the rhythmic thud-thud-thud of fists striking heavy canvas. It was that particular cadence—furious, unrelenting, barely human in its desperation—that made her footsteps slow. 

She shrugged her blazer off of her shoulders and dropped her purse onto the barstool. From the kitchen she could she see him through the sliding glass door. She ventured in that direction, mentally preparing herself for what ever awaited her on the other side of the glass. 

She approached the door but Her hand hovered near the doorframe, not touching, just feeling the vibrations through the air. Not just the vibrations from his fists hit the bag, but there was a tension that hung thickly in the air. 

She silently opened the sliding glass door. It was a warm muggy day in the city and the night hadn’t done much to temper the heat.  The air around him was thick with sweat, rage, and something unspoken. He didn’t look up. His back was to her, muscles straining beneath a soaked T-shirt, fists wrapped tight in tape that was now smeared with streaks of red. The bag swung wildly with each brutal blow, chains groaning in protest. He hit it like it had wronged him—like it carried every ghost that still stalked him in the night, but she knew as well as anyone, nothing could banish the demons that haunted them both. 

She didn’t speak. Not yet. She knew better. She’d known him since before he had found ways to restrain the warring within him. Tonight it seemed the darkness was winning, and this—this was how he bled out the shadows. One punch at a time. It wasn’t training. It was survival.

He paused, just for a breath. Shoulders heaving. Head down. Then he struck again, harder this time, like the bag had whispered something cruel.

“I thought we agreed you’d stop when your knuckles cracked,” she said quietly.

His fist froze mid-air.

He didn’t turn around, didn’t speak. But his hand dropped slowly to his side. Blood dripped in thick, deliberate plinks onto the cement pavers beneath him. She moved closer, careful—like approaching a wounded animal.

“We aren’t supposed to handle this stuff alone anymore,” she said, gentler now.

He finally looked over his shoulder, eyes storm-dark and distant. But beneath the fury, she saw it—that flicker. Recognition. Shame. 

What the hell had happened earlier?

The question echoed in her mind as she stepped closer, her eyes scanning him—his face, his hands, the raw torn skin across his knuckles. Without a word, she reached for one of his hands and gently lifted it, turning it over to inspect the damage. The skin was torn and swollen, streaked with dried blood and sweat.

“We’re going to need to wrap this,” she said quietly, her voice edged with concern.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, starting to pull his hand back.

Her gaze snapped up to meet his, sharp and unyielding. But as she studied his expression—the exhaustion in his eyes, the weight in his shoulders—she made the call to let it go. For now. She folded her arms across her chest and took a breath.

“You want to tell me what the hell happened this afternoon?”

His storm-blue eyes narrowed, a wall instantly going up. But then, after a beat, they softened—just enough. He rubbed the back of his neck, exhaling slowly.

“Not really,” he admitted, voice low and worn. “But I probably should.”

She stepped in closer again, her expression steady, her voice gentle but insistent. “Yeah,” she said, taking his hand again, holding it this time with more than just clinical intent. “I really think you should.”

Chapter Text

He followed her into his dimly lit kitchen, the faint hum of the refrigerator filling the silence between them. She moved with quiet purpose, rummaging through the cabinets until she reached the top shelf and pulled out the first aid kit.

He sighed, watching her spread the kit open on the counter, pulling out bandages, medical tape, and a pair of scissors. “Come on, Liv, you really don’t have to—”

She shot him a look, sharp and immediate, that shut him up before he could finish.

Once she had everything laid out in neat little rows, she turned toward him, hands poised to reach for his. He took a step forward to close the distance, extending his hand to her without a word. She gently lifted it, inspecting the damage in the muted light. For a moment, it looked like she might say something, but instead, she got to work in silence.

She carefully cut away the tape from his hands. It hadn’t done much good anyway, just a makeshift patch job. He winced slightly but kept his eyes on her, searching for eye contact she wouldn’t give. Her focus remained locked on the task.

When she reached for the dry bandages, he stopped her. “It’s fine. I need to shower in a minute anyway.”

Her chocolate-brown eyes finally met his, and the words tumbled out before he could stop them. “It should have been you.”

“Elliot,” she sighed, her voice full of restraint, turning away to return the unused supplies to the kit. Before she moved out of reach, he caught her forearm.

“Just… wait a second.”

She paused, then slowly turned back to face him, drawing in a breath. “What happened today, El?”

He knew what she was thinking—that his meltdown was about the afternoon’s case. And that was partly true. But it wasn’t what had been gnawing at him from the inside as he watched her move through his kitchen.

“I’m fine,” he tried, almost out of reflex.

She rolled her eyes and pulled her arm away. “I thought you wanted to talk about this.”

“I do,” he groaned, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “Just listen for a second, please.”

She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter—a silent signal he knew like muscle memory. It was her way of saying, I’m here. I’m listening. Now talk.

“She was part of a goddamn cult,” he said, his voice tight with disbelief and something older—resentment, maybe grief. “We always suspected it, yeah, but hearing her talk about it like it was salvation…”

He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. His fingers dug into the muscles there, trying to dislodge the pressure that had been building since the moment that woman opened her mouth.

Across from him, recognition flickered in Olivia’s eyes. Something ancient and unspoken passed between them—dark and familiar. She had been there too. She had heard the same things. She’d smelled the smoke, seen the blood.

Her stance softened almost imperceptibly, and with that one shift in her posture, something in him released. His shoulders dropped. The invisible weight he carried eased—not gone, but shared.

“For a moment,” he whispered, “I was there again.”

“Abraham.” She said the name like a curse, quiet and heavy. A clear memory of a nightmarish monster.

The name dropped like a stone in still water, sending ripples neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

He nodded, unable to speak. The memories were thick, unrelenting.

Without hesitation, she reached for his hand—no performance, no hesitation, just instinct. And he took it. Always would.

She led him out of the kitchen, the cold tile floor behind them, and into the quiet hush of the living room. She always knew. Always. Like she could feel the moment his seams began to split—long before he even recognized it himself.

He sank onto the couch, and she folded herself beside him—tucking her legs beneath her, turning her body toward him, not crowding, not rushing, just being. That’s what she did. What she was. Presence without pressure. Intimacy without intrusion.

He stared ahead, jaw tight, before the words finally spilled out.

“We’ve seen so much over the years, but that case…” He exhaled sharply, the breath shaking on its way out. “Those kids didn’t even know what was coming. They followed him because they trusted him. And he twisted that trust until he snapped and killed them with it.”

“I know.” Her hand found his knee—warm, steady, grounding. She didn’t need to ask questions. She didn’t need him to explain the unexplainable.

Because she already knew.

She always had. Not just the facts or the case files—but the marrow-deep ache that never left. The kind of knowing that didn’t come from words or proximity, but something more elemental. Something that lived just beneath the surface of every glance, every silence, every heartbeat they’d ever shared.

Not his friends. Not his kids. Not even Kathy.

Only her.

Whatever it was between them—it defied explanation. It had always been there, humming low like an electric current. Constant. Unshakable. A bond forged in blood and time and all the things they’d never been able to say out loud.

But that case—Abraham—that wasn’t the only one that stayed with him. It was bad, but there were so many that one could argue had been worse.

His voice came quieter now, raw and distant.

“All of that shit bleeds together, you know. I mean I know you know.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Sometimes it feels like dominos….”

She wrapped her arms around herself and nodded. “I know. God, I know. One trigger and suddenly is the parade of trauma. I get that.” 

“Yeah,” he lifted his eyes to her face. “I don’t know if you remember, but there was another one. Another shitty dad that manipulated his family. It was that family annihilator case, well one of them. . Husband murdered his wife, their kids… then himself.” He shook his head. “You probably don’t remember.” 

Her head tilted slightly in recognition.

“You’d be surprised.” There was a sad sort of resignation to her voice. I think I remember the one you’re talking about though. Connors,” she said. “That was the one, wasn’t it?”

He nodded.

He felt his throat tighten again, a different shame rising this time.

“I went to see my kids after that case,” he said. “Like always. I needed to lay eyes on them. Breathe them in. Know they were real.”

“I remember,” she said gently.

“But that night… After I checked on them, I stayed.” He hesitated. “I stayed with Kathy.”

A pause. A long one. She didn’t speak, but the air shifted.

“That was the only time—through our whole separation—that I was with her like that.”

Olivia gave a dry chuckle, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Then that Stabler fertility gene kicked in.”

He winced. Guilt curled like smoke in his gut.

“I stayed because it was easy,” he admitted. “Familiar. I should have gone back to you. But I didn’t. I was too much of a coward to reach for what I actually wanted.”

“She was your wife, El,” Olivia said gently. “You loved her. That makes sense.”

He cut her off, voice taut with self-loathing. “I loved you, Liv.”

“Elliot—”

“No,” he said firmly. “Don’t try to make me feel better.”

She closed her mouth, her expression unreadable. Silence stretched between them until she finally whispered, “What about Eli? That night… if you hadn’t stayed…”

He looked up, meeting her gaze as she squeezed his hand. “He wouldn’t be here if things had gone differently.”

“You don’t know that,” he shot back, more defensive than he intended. “He could’ve been yours.”

The words slipped out before he could reel them back in. They hung there—heavy, raw, real.

She stiffened again, and he thought she might pull away. But she didn’t. She held on.

“I would’ve loved that,” she said quietly, her voice thick with emotion. “Him being ours. There was always a small part of me that claimed him… just a little.”

He watched her, unmoving, afraid to even breathe.

“There was a moment,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper, “the day he was born. Kathy was barely hanging on, and they handed him to me first. I had him pressed to my chest, and I thought… just for a second… he felt like mine.”

She shook her head quickly. “But it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” he said, his voice gravelly.

She gave a short, sad smile. “It was just a wish. A moment. And then you disappeared. Took him with you. Took all of it with you. For a while, it felt like none of you had ever existed.”

He saw the tears welling in her eyes before she brushed them away, quick and silent.

“It’s not that I’m angry anymore,” she added. “It’s just… we can’t change it now. And honestly, I don’t even know if we should’ve changed it back then.”

He could tell she was minimizing—deflecting in the way they both did when emotions started to feel like too much.

“I forgave you a long time ago,” she finished.

He shook his head slowly. “Maybe you shouldn’t have.”

At that, she stood suddenly, fire lighting behind her eyes. Her hands landed on her hips.

“Cut the bullshit.”

The words stopped him cold.

“Shit happened,” she said firmly. “To both of us. You made choices, yeah. But so did I. Every bad choice wasn’t yours alone. I could’ve reached for you too, but I didn’t. I made a choice to stay away. To try and preserve what you had. Because those kids needed their dad. And you are a great dad, Elliot.”

Her voice softened. “Maybe it would’ve worked out. Maybe it wouldn’t have. But I made peace with that choice a long time ago.”

She lowered herself slowly back onto the couch, a stiffness in her movements betraying her effort to stay composed.

“I think you need to forgive yourself,” she said quietly. “You hurt me. But I’m tired of letting our past destroy any chance we still have.”

She lifted a hand to his face, cupping his cheek gently. Her thumb brushed over his skin with a tenderness that undid him completely. He hadn’t even realized he was crying until her touch wiped the tears away.

“I love you, you idiot,” she whispered, a soft laugh escaping her lips.

A smile teased at the corners of his mouth and he couldn’t help leaning in and planting a kiss on that beautiful mouth.

Chapter Text

Steam billowed from the bathroom as they backed themselves out of the bathroom. Towels fell into forgotten puddles on the floor as her mouth covered his in a searing kiss. 

Olivia backed him toward the bed, her mouth brushing his like a promise.

Elliot let her guide him, let himself follow her lead. Their relationship—their partnership had always been a give and take built on mutual deeply ingrained trust. And tonight, tonight he let her lead. 

She kissed him again, slower this time, and he tasted salt on her lips. His or hers—he couldn’t tell. Maybe both.

He broke away, just enough to speak. “You don’t have to fix me.” His breath heavy. 

She actually laughed. Husky and low. “God Elliot, fixing you would be impossible.” 

He loved their dark banter. Finding levity in their honest back and forth. 

That undid him more than anything else.

They sank into the bed together, the world outside falling silent. She continued to let her lead. With them it was always a give and take, a push and pull, and right now he was willing to follow her lead. 

Olivia moved with that quiet confidence she carried everywhere, and tonight, she used it to anchor him. She rolled him onto his back, pressing her hands onto his heat as she straddled his abdomen. For a brief moment her guard fell and he could see, feel, her complete adoration. 

His hands skirted up the sides of her body on their own accord, and he watched a trail of goosebumps follow the light touch of his fingers.. There was something different in their actions tonight. It wasn’t just wanton desire.  It was need. A desperate, aching need to feel something good. Something real. And she let him. Let him find his way back to himself through her skin, through the steadiness of her breath, the safety in her arms.

They moved together with the quiet certainty of two people who knew each other in every way that mattered—but tonight, there was a gravity to it. Tonight, there was fragility wrapped inside the heat. Pain coiled beneath pleasure. It wasn’t just about closeness. It was about survival. About coming out on the other side of something dark and still choosing each other.

When it was over, when their bodies had stilled, Olivia didn’t move.

She just held him. The warmth of their bodies mixing together as they came down from their high. 

He threaded one hand in her hair while she rested her cheek on the firm planes of his chest. For a moment they found a stillness, a peace, that they only ever found after losing themselves in each other. 

“I love you,” he whispered into the darkness. She said nothing but pressed herself tighter on his body. He knew her. He knew without words she was assuring him that she loved him too. 

-000-

Olivia’s phone pinged twice. She groaned softly and reached for it, the light from the screen cutting through the shadows. A message from Lizzie lit up the top.

L: Kids went down fine. Noah insisted Hannah take his bed and he crashed on the couch. I’m assuming you need more time to talk my dad down so I’ll just stay the night. I’m stealing your bed though 🤣

It was 12:30 a.m.

Olivia smiled faintly as she typed:

O: I’m staying the night here. Thanks for taking them without notice.

L: Anytime. Seriously. Noah is the coolest, and Hannah is quiet, but I got a couple smiles. I think that’s a win.

L: How’s Dad?

Olivia rolled onto her back. Elliot’s arm was draped across her bare stomach, his face softened in sleep—peaceful, at least for now.

O: Okay for now. You know how it gets sometimes. This case with Hannah’s been a tough one for him.

L: I figured. I saw him for a second when I grabbed the kids. He didn’t look okay.

O: He wasn’t. But I think he will be.

L: I’m glad he has you. Seriously. No one gets him like you do.

O: I’m glad I have him too. All of you.

L: Love you Liv.

O: Love you too.

Olivia locked the screen and set the phone on the nightstand. She turned back toward Elliot, drawn by his warmth. For a moment, she considered getting dressed—but there were no kids here tonight, and she wanted to stay like this a little longer.

She brushed a kiss across his bare shoulder and curled tighter into his side. She closed her eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come.

Her hand came to rest on his chest, watching the slow rise and fall beneath her fingers. Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to what he’d said earlier—the brutal honesty, the grief behind it.

It should have been you.

She hadn’t lied when she said she sometimes wondered what it could’ve been like. But the wondering always left her aching.

She loved her life now. She loved him now. They’d found their way—winding, imperfect—but it was theirs. Still, the thought lingered: had they wasted too much time not loving each other? And as she got older, she found that time was more precious than she ever let herself believe.

Elliot shifted in his sleep, murmuring something incoherent as his arm tightened around her waist. She stilled, watching him.

Part of her thought about getting up. She felt sticky from the heat of him—God, he radiated heat—but instead she stayed.

She didn’t want to lose this moment. The quiet stillness away from the chaos was not something she often experienced, but felt right as she grew drowsy in his arms. 

She turned her head, resting her lips lightly against his collarbone, letting her breath warm his skin. He didn’t stir this time. Just exhaled, low and steady, and pulled her in closer.

Her thoughts drifted toward Noah, toward Hannah. The weight of the case still lingered in the corners of her mind, but it no longer sat as heavily on her shoulders. They’d get through it. They always did. She’d hold the line for all of them—Elliot, the kids, herself—because that’s what she did. That’s what he did too, even when he didn’t know how.

She closed her eyes, finally, and let her body relax against his.

Maybe sleep would come. Maybe not.

But at least she wasn’t alone in the dark anymore

Chapter Text

The soft glow of early morning filtered in through the blinds as Olivia stirred, still tucked into Elliot’s side. His arm lay heavy across her waist, his breathing deep and even against her back. She shifted carefully, trying not to wake him, and reached for her phone on the nightstand.

A message from Lizzie lit up the screen.

L: Morning. Just wanted to give you a heads-up—Hannah wants to do another session, but only if Noah is with her. I’m not sure how you feel about that so I tried to put them off a little but he’s getting insistent about it. What do you want me to do?

Olivia’s brows drew together as she read it again. Her stomach sank a little at the idea. 

Elliot stirred behind her. “What’s up?” He mumbled with his eyes still closed. 

She handed him the phone. “She wants Noah in the room with Hannah during her next session.”

He blinked awake and lifted the phone closer to his face. His brow furrowed as he read. “She asked for Noah?”

Olivia nodded slowly, her voice quiet. “Apparently they talked last night.”

He exhaled, sitting up a little. “Well… I mean, she trusts him. That’s a good thing, right?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stared at the ceiling, torn between pride and dread. “He’s been through a lot, El. I’m not sure this is something he should take on. Not yet”

Elliot reached for her hand under the blanket, squeezing gently. “Maybe. But he wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t think he could handle it.”

“That’s just it,” she murmured. “He wouldn’t know he couldn’t until it’s too late.” One hand covered her eyes. 

They lay in silence for a moment, the warmth of the room suddenly feeling too fragile. Eventually, she sat up, pulling the blankets aside, shuddering as the cold hit her exposed skin. 

“We need to go. If she’s serious about this, I want to talk to Noah before he goes in with her.”

Elliot was already out of bed pulling a shirt from his drawer. “Yeah, okay. Let’s get going.”

As they quickly moved through the familiar morning routine they didn’t say much. But the weight hung there between them, thick and oppressive. Olivia checked her phone again and again, like the screen might offer some kind of reprieve—like Noah might change his mind. No such reprieve arrived.

By the time they reached the precinct, her stomach was knotted. Her pulse was too loud in her ears.

She texted Lizzie from the car.

O: We’re here. You probably beat us here so bring the kids in whenever they’re ready. Just… tell Noah he doesn’t have to do this. Not if he’s unsure.

L: I asked, and he rolled his eyes and told me he’s sure and that you need to stop worrying about him. 

That only made the knot tighten. Her hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting in her lap.

And not even a half hour later she and Elliot were standing behind the one-way glass, watching everything unfold unfold. Hannah, quiet but open. Noah, calm but clearly bracing.

And Olivia—fighting every maternal instinct in her body not to storm in and pull him out before it got too heavy. Her heart pounded, and adrenaline pulled every muscle taught like a bowstring.

“I don’t like this,” Olivia murmured for the thousandth time that morning.

“I know you don’t,” Elliot said, voice calm but firm. “But he makes her feel safe.”

“You make her feel safe,” Olivia countered. “We could’ve just put you in there again.”

They both knew that wasn’t an option.

Elliot hadn’t visibly broken down in front of Hannah, but the girl was observant—more than most adults gave her credit for. And for reasons that initially left Elliot confused and borderline angry, she had flat-out refused to speak with the psychologist while he was present.

But Olivia understood.

Hannah was trying to protect him.

Whatever she had said last time had struck a nerve, and she’d seen it in Elliot’s eyes. Whether it was a flash of pain, a shift in posture, or something subtler, she’d caught it. And in her trauma-wired brain, she assumed she had caused it. She thought she hurt him.

And because she trusted him—relied on him, in fact—she couldn’t bear the thought of doing that again.

So, she shut him out.

Before the psychologist arrived, Olivia had approached Hannah gently, asking if she’d like her to sit in instead. But Hannah had turned her down without hesitation.

She wanted Noah, and Hannah seemed to know she held all the cards. Olivia could do nothing but fold. 

And somehow, that’s how Olivia ended up here: anxiously pacing in front of seated Elliot, behind a pane of one-way glass, watching as her son and a deeply traumatized little girl played a board game with the department psychologist.

She hated every second of it.

The session had started off light—casual questions, giggles over the game, small moments of connection. But as Hannah began to open up more, Olivia found herself barely resisting the urge to storm in there and pull Noah out.

Elliot’s hand on her arm was the only thing keeping her tethered.

His touch was steady, grounding. It said what words didn’t need to: She has to do this. He has to do this. We have to let them.

But she could feel her body trembling beneath the surface—rage and helplessness twisting inside her, pulling her in two different directions.

She couldn’t go in there and rip Noah away without undoing everything—every fragile thread of trust she’d built with Hannah. And Noah would never forgive her. He’d see it as her being overbearing again, treating him like a child.

All she could do was sit. Watch. Listen. And pray that her son would be able to talk it out later—or at least find some way to carry the weight without letting it hollow him out.

“Last time we talked, you mentioned your sister, Rebekah?” the psychologist asked, her voice casual, but Olivia didn’t miss the way Hannah’s shoulders tensed.

Noah caught it too.

“Hey,” he said softly, nudging the dice toward her. “It’s your turn.”

Hannah picked them up and rolled, forcing a hesitant smile as she moved her game piece across the board.

In the silence, Noah stepped in to fill the space.

“Rebekah’s older than Hannah,” he said, glancing sideways at her. “Two years older, right?”

Hannah gave a small nod, her eyes still locked on the board.

Olivia blinked. She knew the two were had a strange bond, but she hadn’t realized how much they’d talked. Not just surface level stuff— Real, deep, meaningful conversations. She made a mental note to pull Noah aside later, see what details he’d learned—and what they might mean.

“Almost two years,” Hannah whispered, barely audible.

Noah picked up the dice and rolled again, using the game as both distraction and anchor. The air had shifted—tense now, delicate—but he played through it anyway.

“Yes!” he said, grinning as he landed on a space that sent him forward five spaces.

“And you said that Rebekah—” the therapist began gently, but Hannah interrupted.

“Bekah,” she said quickly. “She preferred Bekah.”

The woman gave her a soft, sad smile. “Bekah,” she repeated. Then, after a beat: “You said you were supposed to replace Bekah… but why?” Her voice softened even further. “Where is Bekah now?”

Olivia watched as Hannah fiddled with her bracelet, rubbing the bead like a talisman. After a long, shuddering breath she lifted her eyes to the counselor’s face, expression blank as she spoke the words. “She’s dead. Bekah killed herself last year.”

Elliot’s hand shot out, grabbing Olivia’s wrist before she could leap from her seat and pound on the glass. His grip was firm and reflexive.

He knew her. Knew the exact moment she was about to shatter protocol and tear everything apart.

“Detective,” she snapped, rage in her voice. “Let me go!”

She yanked against him, but his grip held.

“No,” he said, his voice low and unyielding.

Her eyes narrowed into slits, her voice dropping into that dangerous, precise tone that only came out on the edge of command.

“Detective. Let. Me. Go.”

He knew he was skirting insubordination. Knew she outranked him. But this wasn’t Captain Benson speaking. This was a mother—a terrified one—acting on instinct.

“Look at me.”

She did. But her expression was pure fury—grief and rage braided tightly together.

“You go in there like this, you throw in the towel. You blow the whole case. Is that what you want?”

She didn’t answer.

“He shouldn’t be in there,” she hissed. “He can’t handle this. Not after last year. This is too much.” She twisted again, but he didn’t let go. “I’m his mother. I know what he can handle.”

He’s my son. Mine.

The words weren’t spoken, but they hung in the background, always threatening to consume them both.  

And they cut deep.

Instead of folding, Elliot pushed back.

“And who’s his father, Liv?” His voice rose, raw and angry. “You always talk like he only belongs to you, and I’m sick of it.”

He saw her flush, red crawling up her neck. But he didn’t stop.

“You know what he told me? That first night—before everything blew up? He said that even though he doesn’t call me Dad… I am his dad.”

He exhaled sharply, loosening his grip.

When she didn’t pull away, he let her go completely.

“I know you’re scared. And I get why. But protecting him doesn’t mean sheltering him from everything hard. Sometimes protecting him means letting him be who he’s growing into.”

He thumped his chest, eyes locked on hers. “I want to protect him too.”

He gestured toward the glass.

“But look at him. Look at our kid.”

She turned, breath caught in her throat.

Inside, Noah had wrapped a quiet arm around Hannah. Her small body trembled as she leaned into him, face buried in his shoulder.

But Noah wasn’t shaken. He wasn’t breaking.

He was steady. Strong. Compassionate.

He looked like her.

Elliot stepped closer, slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her in.

His voice was soft in her ear.

“He’s brave. Smart. Stubborn. Empathetic.”

He chuckled gently. “Sound like anyone you know?”

Her body finally relaxed against his.

“He’s so much like you, Liv,” Elliot whispered. “Don’t hold him back. Let him show us who he really is.” He brushed his lips over her temple, an act of affectionate reassurance. “He can do this.” 

She turned her head slightly and he could see the war battling in her mind. After a moment she swallowed deeply and with her voice trembling responded. 

“Okay.” 

Chapter Text

Her dad had asked her to come over after getting a call from his sergeant. Olivia needed to stay at the precinct, and he had to swing by the squad for a team check-in. With both of them pulled away, Kathleen had volunteered to hang out with the kids for a few hours.

When she arrived, Noah was still grumbling about not needing a babysitter, but her dad had pulled her aside to explain. Hannah was doing okay physically, but emotionally, she was still fragile—and after a rough therapy session that morning, he didn’t want the two of them left alone.

So Kathleen stayed.

Hannah had fallen asleep only minutes after Kathleen arrived. The poor girl looked like she’d been running on fumes for days, and from the brief, low-voiced rundown her dad had given her, it sounded like Hannah had been through absolute hell over the past year.

Kathleen closed the bedroom door gently, leaving it slightly ajar, and padded softly toward the kitchen. Her footsteps echoed faintly in the quiet apartment. The late afternoon light filtered through the blinds in soft golden stripes, catching on the dust motes floating in the air.

She found Noah curled up on the couch, the TV on but barely audible. His socked feet were propped up, ankles crossed, and his phone was resting in his palms as his thumbs tapped a steady, distracted rhythm. He didn’t look up when she entered the room.

Kathleen sat beside him, easing down slowly, trying not to make the cushions shift too much beneath her. She leaned her head back against the couch, mimicking his posture, and asked casually, “How you feeling about everything, Noh?”

Noah didn’t look up. His eyes stayed on the screen in front of him, whatever game he was playing now just something to fill the silence.

“Everyone keeps asking me that,” he said flatly. “It’s getting annoying. I’m not the one everyone should be worried about. No one’s constantly asking Hannah if she’s okay—and she’s the one actually hurting.”

“True,” Kathleen said softly, “but we’re your family. We’re supposed to worry about you.”

His shoulders tightened slightly, but his gaze stayed locked on his phone. “Yeah, well… Hannah’s family doesn’t give a shit about her, so I don’t think all families work like that.”

Kathleen considered scolding him for the language, but honestly, the way tension was radiating off of him in waves, she let it slide. Instead, she bumped her shoulder gently into his.

“Not all families are as nosy—or as great—as ours,” she said, a half-smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

That got a small, humorless chuckle out of him. He finally set his phone down in his lap.

“They didn’t even come looking for her,” he said, shaking his head. “She almost died out there, and nobody even noticed. Nobody came.”

Kathleen nodded, her throat tightening. She wasn’t sure how much Noah knew, but it was clear family abandonment wasn’t the worst thing Hannah had been through.

There was a haunted look in his eyes sometimes—something she recognized from ER patients who’d seen more than they should’ve at their age. It wasn’t just sadness. It was exposure.

“It’s pretty messed up,” she murmured.

Noah turned a little, facing her more directly. The sunlight caught his face now—his jaw tight, his eyes heavy with something older than he should be carrying.

“And I don’t even know how to help her,” he said. “I’m trying to be her friend and listen and stuff, but I can’t fix it. I can’t do anything.”

“That’s frustrating,” Kathleen said honestly. “But sometimes just being there is everything. Even if you can’t fix it or fully understand, listening matters more than you think.”

He frowned. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”

“I know,” she said gently. “But from what I’ve seen… I don’t think Hannah’s ever had someone like you in her life. Just knowing you’re in her corner probably means the world to her.”

He didn’t answer right away. His fingers now traced the seams in the couch cushion absently. After a moment, he spoke again, voice softer.

“She had a sister,” he said. “Her best friend. But…” He trailed off, his gaze falling to his lap.

Kathleen nodded, her chest tightening. She’d overheard enough from her dad and Liv to know what had happened to Bekah. It was the kind of thing that rearranged the world for someone.

“No one cared about her either,” Noah continued, his voice lower now. “They just… pretended Bekah never existed. They tried to turn Hannah into her. Like some kind of sick replacement.”

“That’s tough,” she said, because what else could you say?

He nodded. “Yeah. And the more she tells me, the more I feel bad. And angry. Like—my life is pretty great, but it could’ve gone so differently. What if my mom hadn’t found me? What if nobody came for me either?”

His words hung heavy in the air. The only sound was the faint hum of the refrigerator and the low murmur of the muted TV.

Kathleen reached over, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“I get that,” she said. “But that’s exactly why your mom does what she does. So people do come. So people like Hannah—or you—aren’t left behind.”

He nodded slowly. “I know. But sometimes… it still doesn’t feel like enough.”

They sat in silence. The kind that wasn’t awkward, just… full. Shared weight, shared understanding.

Then Noah shifted, fidgeting slightly. His voice, when it came again, was quieter. More uncertain.

“Hannah told me something weird,” he said. “It might be nothing, but I can’t get it out of my head.”

Kathleen kept her voice neutral, careful not to spook him. “What’s that?”

Noah picked at a loose thread on the knee of his jeans, eyes down. “She said everyone in the compound has a job. Like, even the kids. Her job was to take care of the new ones—new kids or new babies, I think, when they first got there.”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m making it mean something it doesn’t, but… the way she said it, it didn’t sound like normal babysitting. Not like she was just helping new moms or watching her siblings or anything.”

A chill crept up Kathleen’s spine. Her heart began to thud, slow and heavy.

She kept her voice even. “What do you think she meant by it?”

Noah leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. His voice dropped low. “I don’t know. But my stomach felt weird when she said it. Like something was off. It didn’t sound right.”

Kathleen nodded slowly. “Sometimes your gut picks up on stuff before your brain has the words for it. That feeling? It’s your intuition trying to talk to you. You should listen.”

Noah was quiet for a beat. Then he added, “She also said a lot of the boys leave the compound at a certain age. Not all of them, but most. She didn’t know where they go, just that they’re gone one day. There were only a couple teen boys still there.”

Kathleen straightened slightly, her muscles tensing.

“And the girls?” she asked, her voice still level.

He glanced at her, hesitant. “Her dad arranges marriages for them. Like, sets them up ahead of time. She didn’t say a lot about it, but the way she talked… I dunno. It sounded like the guys had more than one wife. Or were married to girls way younger than them.”

He looked down again, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “She didn’t say that. But that’s what it felt like. Like it was just… understood.”

Kathleen felt a pit forming in her stomach. The pieces were clicking into place, and what they formed wasn’t just weird or concerning—it was deeply wrong.

She thought of the baby-soft blankets folded on Hannah’s borrowed bed. The way the girl had curled into them without complaint, as if grateful for stillness itself.

“Okay,” she said softly, her voice suddenly very steady. “You did good telling me this, Noah. This matters.”

His eyes flicked to hers. “You think it’s bad, don’t you?”

She didn’t lie. “Yeah. I do.”

Elliot had taken the kids back to his place while Olivia remained at the precinct. He needed to check in with his team later in the day, so Kathleen volunteered to meet him at the apartment.

Noah insisted they didn’t need a babysitter, but with Hannah’s health still on the mend—and all of them emotionally worn thin—Olivia thought it best that the kids had a little extra supervision.

She settled into her desk chair and began flipping through the psychologist’s notes on the session, along with the background reports her team had compiled the day before. Every piece of evidence looked damning, but given the jurisdictional hurdles, it was imperative they had enough to justify a raid.

She’d seen what happened when cases like this weren’t airtight. Cases where children were hidden behind closed gates and religious rhetoric, and everyone who knew how bad it was had turned the other way. Not this time.

Waco. Ruby Ridge. The long-held grievances tied to both always served as a cautionary tale—a warning of how confronting cult leaders could spiral into disaster.

She tapped her pen against the desk, thinking. Hannah’s disclosures were enough to permanently remove her from her parents’ custody, but if she wanted the federal government to partner with them on this case, she needed more.

The analog clock behind her ticked steadily through the silence as she scribbled notes into the margins of the documents. Her mind ticked with it. Faster. Sharper.

She was deep in the zone when her ringer went off. Without looking up, she answered.

“Benson.”

“H–hey, Liv.” Kathleen’s voice caught her off guard.

“What’s wrong?” Her stomach dropped. Kathleen would only call if something was wrong—otherwise, she would’ve just texted.

“Nothing—well, not nothing. Obviously I’m not calling for nothing. There is something. But the kids are okay.” She let out a breath. “Sorry, I should’ve led with that.”

“Yeah. Gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” Kathleen groaned. “The kids are fine. Really. But I’m trying to process some stuff Noah told me, and I think it’s information you guys need.”

Olivia stilled, her pen lowering to the desk. “Go on.”

Kathleen hesitated. “Noah said there were jobs. That even the kids had them. Hannah’s was to take care of the new arrivals—mostly babies. She made it sound normal. Routine.”

Olivia frowned, something in her chest beginning to coil.

Her fingers curled into the edge of the folder in front of her, the paper creasing under the pressure. A job. For a child. The words alone made her skin crawl.

“But the way she described it…” Kathleen’s voice dropped. “It didn’t sound like babysitting. It sounded like she was assigned to care for infants that weren’t from her family. And there were always new babies. Constantly.”

The pressure behind Olivia’s eyes tightened.

“And there’s something else,” Kathleen added. “Noah noticed that she never mentioned boys. Not little ones. Just babies and girls. Like after a certain point, the boys just… disappeared.”

A chill ran down Olivia’s spine. She knew that kind of pattern. She’d seen it before. Her entire body reacted—muscle memory from a hundred interviews, a dozen nightmares, the unmistakable rhythm of the truth hitting too close.

“I don’t want to assume the worst,” Kathleen said, “but Noah’s right to be unsettled. If kids are cycling in and out, and the boys are vanishing—”

“It could be trafficking,” Olivia said, her voice flat and cold.

“Yeah,” Kathleen whispered. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

Silence thickened between them.

“Thank you for telling me,” Olivia said after a beat. “You did the right thing.”

She hung up gently, set the phone down, and stared at the stack of files in front of her. Her stomach turned.

The weight of it pressed down on her chest, spreading like frost—slow and steady. She pressed her palm against her sternum, trying to breathe through it.

This wasn’t about one girl. Not anymore. This was organized, hidden in plain sight. And if they were right, the clock had already been ticking for too long.

Then she picked the phone back up and typed a message to Elliot:

O: We need to talk. This may be bigger than we thought. Your team might want in on this one.

She hit send, locked the phone, and reached for a fresh notepad.

Because if they were right, this wasn’t just about one broken family. This was something else entirely.

And if they didn’t move fast—regardless of jurisdiction—there wouldn’t be anyone left to save.

Chapter Text

Velasco trailed behind Bruno, every step punctuated by the sharp snap of twigs under his new hiking boots. Even with the thick socks the store clerk had sworn by, he could feel a blister blooming on his heel—hot, raw, inevitable.

Ahead of him, Bruno moved like he was born on the trail, weaving between maples and pines without breaking stride. The man carried his pack with the ease of someone who had never once cursed a backpack strap in his life.

Velasco shifted his own straps again, tugging them away from his shoulders for a fleeting moment of relief. It wasn’t sustainable—not with five miles still to go—but it was either that or let the constant chafing drive him insane.

The air smelled of damp earth and pine sap, sharp and clean, and it seemed to fuel Bruno like a double shot of espresso.

What was it with white people and the mountains?

When Velasco was a kid, the longest hike he’d ever taken was across the Mexican desert—helping his mother smuggle his cousin into Texas. By the time they made it through, he’d sworn off rocks, dust, and blistering sun for life. The dense forests and rolling hills of upstate New York were nothing like the scorched desert, but still… he didn’t see the appeal.

A mosquito landed on the back of his neck. He slapped it dead and muttered under his breath, half seriously wondering when the last case of Zika or West Nile had popped up in the States. With his luck, he’d contract something incurable while scouting out a potentially homicidal cult leader.

“You doing alright back there?” Bruno called over his shoulder, a thread of amusement woven into his voice.

“Yeah,” Velasco grumbled, breathless enough that it sounded like a lie. “Living the dream.”

Bruno chuckled and slowed just enough for him to catch up. “We get eyes on this place, it’ll be worth it.”

Velasco wasn’t sure if he meant the surveillance… or the hike.

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbled.

After another twenty minutes, the trail began to narrow. Pine branches reached for them like fingers, grabbing at their clothes and skin.

“You sure we’re going the right way?” Velasco asked. It felt like they’d been circling forever, but everything looked exactly the same—tree after tree after tree.

Bruno held up his GPS. “Yeah. We’re close. The trail narrows here, not well traveled. Makes sense.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Velasco deadpanned.

“Well, I doubt they want casual hikers stumbling across the place,” Bruno said, glancing at the screen again. “Pin the FBI dropped is about a mile out. Depending on the terrain, it won’t be much longer.”

“I’m betting it’s not going to be great.”

“Probably not. Drink some water. We’ll pause a minute.” Bruno gave him a pointed look. “Also, you’ve gotta figure out how to keep your steps quieter. If they hear us, we’re screwed.”

“It’s not like I can avoid all the—” Velasco gestured to the blanket of pine needles, broken twigs, and leaf litter. “—nature. How are you not crunching every stick out here? They’re everywhere.”

Bruno shrugged. “It’s not concrete or asphalt. Watch where you put your feet and you’ll be fine.”

Velasco resisted the urge to snap. Their voices were already louder than he liked, and blowing up at Bruno wouldn’t help either of them.

They kept moving.

Soon, signs of human activity began to appear. A crumpled cigarette butt. A cluster of boot prints in the loam. And most alarming—spent shell casings scattered near the edge of the trail.

“Shit,” Velasco muttered, crouching to inspect one of them. “This just got real.”

Bruno didn’t speak at first. He just stared ahead, the easy camaraderie from earlier gone.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “There’s a clearing coming up. I’m guessing that’s where they’re set up.”

“How close do you think we can get?” Velasco asked. Truth be told, he wanted nothing to do with a bunch of armed survivalists playing soldier in the woods.

Bruno motioned to the trees. “We’ll move off the trail. Stick to the tree line. Hopefully close enough for photos.”

Of course Richie Rich brought his own gear—his telephoto lens looked like something out of National Geographic, way nicer than anything the department handed out.

Velasco sighed. “Yeah, okay. Let’s get moving. I already hate this place.”

A cold shiver crept up his spine.

The quiet didn’t feel peaceful anymore. It felt like the woods were holding their breath.

Like something was watching.

-000-

Olivia stood with one hand braced on the edge of the folding table, her fingers curled tightly around the metal rim. The map spread out in front of her was smeared with mud and pine needles, but the markers were clear—every red circle, every scribbled note. Across from her, Bruno and Velasco debriefed in clipped, efficient sentences. She listened carefully, eyes flicking from face to face, locking onto each new detail. Armed. Multiple buildings. Children spotted near the center.

She didn’t flinch, but her jaw tightened.

This thing was a powder keg. One wrong move, and there would be casualties—most of them children.

“They’ve got two lookouts rotating near the trail,” Bruno said. “We stayed wide, but we spotted them on the way back—definitely armed. Walkies, too. The trees are pretty thick, but we could only get so close.”

Velasco dropped a weathered notebook on the table. “We saw at least ten, maybe twelve kids outside. There were others moving between trailers—we think some are being kept inside. Hard to tell how many, but definitely more than we were expecting.”

Olivia’s stomach twisted, but her voice stayed level. “Adults?”

“Ten to twelve visible. Mostly men,” Bruno replied. “Could be more. They’re not exactly being casual—rotating lookouts, firearms on at least four of them, and movement between buildings like they’ve got assigned duties.”

Fin muttered from across the room, “Plenty to make a mess if it goes sideways.”

No one disagreed.

An FBI agent—mid-thirties, tactical vest half-zipped and coffee in hand—cleared his throat. “We’ve got a warrant in motion. Judge Petrovsky’s reviewing the affidavit now. If she signs off, we roll before sunrise. We’ll have full support from our tactical team.”

“Minimal entry,” Olivia said. “Priority is the children. If this is what we think it is, there could be dozens of victims—some of them too young to even understand what’s happening to them.”

The agent nodded. “Understood. No cowboy shit. We go in coordinated.”

She could feel Elliot watching her from the far side of the room. He hadn’t said much since the team returned—just stood there, arms crossed, jaw set like stone. She knew that look. He was running every worst-case scenario in his head, just like she was. They both understood how easily things could go wrong.

She refocused on the map. “Bruno, Velasco—perimeter. You know the terrain.”

They both nodded.

“Fin will handle transport and triage,” she added, glancing toward Elliot’s team. “Sergeant Bell will coordinate with you. Elliot…” She paused just a beat. “You’re with me. Kid recovery.”

He met her eyes, silent agreement passing between them.

The FBI agent stepped forward again. “Two SUVs, one medical van. CPS staging near the forest entrance. We’ll run radios on shared frequency. We move at 0500.”

Olivia straightened. “Then we prep. No mistakes.”

The team broke, moving in quiet coordination. Gear bags unzipped. Radios tested. Maps folded. The storm was coming—but for now, there was only the calm.

She stayed a moment longer, eyes fixed on the red X on the map.

One shot. That’s all they got.

-000-

Noah sat cross-legged at the edge of the pull-out couch, a fleece blanket around his shoulders and the TV remote balanced on his knee. Some wildlife special played in the background, all low narration and wolf howls. He wasn’t really watching. Across the room, Hannah sat curled into the corner of the armchair, her chin resting on her knees.

She hadn’t spoken in a while—not since his mom had stepped out to take another call.

“Are you scared?” she asked quietly.

Noah blinked. “Of what?”

“Tomorrow,” she said. “Your mom. Elliot. The raid.”

He shrugged. “They’ve done stuff like this before.”

“Both of them?”

“Not usually together—I mean, not anymore. They used to be partners, but now they work in different departments.”

He hesitated, then added, “But sometimes they still work on the same cases. They know what they’re doing.”

She watched him for a beat, her haunting blue eyes calling out his deflection. “That’s not what I asked.”

Noah didn’t respond.

Of course he was scared. He was always scared. His mom could be hurt or killed. She’d always been lucky, but after the last time she got shot, he started to realize how easily everything could go wrong.

He stared at the screen like it might offer a distraction, but the wolves just kept pacing.

He knew the feeling.

“You don’t have to say it out loud,” Hannah added. “But if it were me, I’d be scared.”

He let out a breath. “I just… don’t talk about stuff like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t help. If I say it out loud, it’s like I’m making it real. Then I start picturing it—all the ways it could go bad. And the worst part is, I can’t do anything about it.”

He leaned back into the couch cushions. “It’s easier if I just don’t think about it.”

“But it’s still real,” she said gently. “Whatever happens will still happen whether you talk about it or not.”

Noah glanced at her, then looked away again.

She was right.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “I’m scared.”

He said it like it cost him something.

“I always am, a little. I don’t want anything to happen to them. But I also don’t want to be the reason my mom doesn’t do the job she was meant to do, you know? She’s better at it when she doesn’t have to worry about me. So I act okay, even when I’m not.”

Hannah nodded slightly. “I get that.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“I’m scared too,” she said. “Not just about the raid. About what happens after.”

Noah didn’t push, just waited.

“I know that place was wrong,” she said, voice trembling. “I know what happened there wasn’t okay. But it’s still where I grew up. It’s where everything made sense—even when it was awful. And now…” Her eyes began to water.

He turned to her fully, listening.

“And my dad…” she trailed off, then forced herself to continue. “He hurt people. He hurt me. But part of me still wants to believe he thought it was for the best. That he believed it. Because if he didn’t…”

Her throat caught.

“Then it was just cruelty,” Noah finished quietly.

She nodded. “And I don’t know how to be okay with that.”

He was quiet, thoughtful. “I don’t think you have to. Not right now.”

Hannah didn’t say anything, but her shoulders loosened slightly.

The wolves on the TV howled again, long and low. Outside, the wind stirred in the trees, rustling against the window glass.

“I just don’t want to feel like I’m betraying him—everyone. All we had out there was each other,” she whispered.

“You’re not betraying anyone,” Noah said. “You’re just trying to figure out how to live outside of it. That’s not easy.”

She didn’t nod. But she didn’t argue either.

It wasn’t the kind of comfort that fixed anything—but it was something.

Chapter Text

The drive was quiet, the kind of silence that said more than words could. Olivia’s hand rested in Elliot’s, their fingers linked over the center console, steadying each other even as tension crackled in the air. Outside, the road unfurled in streaks of shadow and light, the city falling away behind them. Neither spoke; they didn’t need to. The silence was its own language, one they both understood.

Her heart pounded with every switchback. The thickening trees threatened to swallow the sky above—swallow them whole. Olivia shifted in her seat, tightening her grip on Elliot’s hand. She wasn’t afraid of silence—but she knew what waited on the other side of it.

When the meet-up point appeared ahead, he slowed, pulled into the gravel lot, and cut the engine. For a moment, neither moved. Just a breath, held between them. A glance that said what they couldn’t risk putting into words. Then, almost together, they pushed open their doors.

The night air was cool, damp enough to sting the lungs. They met at the trunk, moving in sync without needing to ask or signal.

She reached in first, retrieving their Kevlar. Wordlessly, he took his vest from her waiting hands, the rip of Velcro loud in the stillness. Their fingers brushed in the exchange—brief, fleeting, but heavy with meaning.

He pulled the vest over his head. After she did the same, he turned toward her, reaching for her straps. His hands tightened them with practiced precision, knuckles grazing her ribs before falling away. Her eyes caught his, dark and steady, and she reached for his vest in turn, tugging it snug against him. He didn’t look away. Neither did she.

The moment stretched. Elliot exhaled, shifted as if to turn toward the others, to break the spell.

“Elliot.” Her hand pressed flat to his chest, right over his heart. He stilled, eyes dropping to her touch.

“Be safe,” she whispered, voice low but steady. “Don’t… don’t be a hero, okay?”

She started to let her hand fall, but he caught it, trapping it against him. His fingers wrapped around hers, holding her there.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice rough with something heavier than warning, “I can’t promise that. And neither can you.”

For a second, neither of them breathed. The quiet between them carried a weight heavier than the gear they wore. Their world had always lived in moments like this—seconds stretched taut, choices sharpened to a blade’s edge.

Her throat tightened, but she didn’t look away. She knew he was right. They both did. They had never been the type to stand back, to play it safe when someone else could be hurt. It was carved into who they were, and they would both carry that burden until it broke them.

Her hand lingered a beat longer before slipping away. Their eyes locked—warning, confession, promise, inevitability.

He reached up and slammed the trunk shut with a sharp echo. The sound broke the moment clean. Together, side by side, they turned toward the storm waiting for them.

-000-

The air stank of smoke and damp earth, every surface cobbled together from warped planks and rusted tin. Olivia’s boots crunched over packed dirt as she led, weapon raised, Elliot covering her six. Her earpiece crackled, Fin’s voice sharp in her ear.

“Left wing clear. Bruno’s posted at the south path. Watch your corners, you got eyes moving near ya.”

Olivia’s fingers flicked in signal, Elliot sliding closer to her shoulder. Their movements fell into sync as easily as breathing—two decades of instinct working wordlessly in tandem.

A faint whimper cut through the silence. She froze, Elliot followed suit, swinging wide toward the tarp-strung doorway.

They breached together, weapons up.

Two children huddled in the corner of the shack, a boy and a girl, clothes torn, faces streaked with grime. The girl flinched hard at the sound of the tarp flapping open, shrinking back, but the boy—he lifted his head, eyes locking on Elliot’s, wide but steady. He looked like he recognized something solid. Safe.

Olivia’s voice softened immediately, instinct cutting through the tactical edge. She lowered her weapon while Elliot remained angled toward the opening. Olivia knelt down. “It’s okay. We’re not here to hurt you. We’re here to take you home.”

The girl trembled, torn between hiding and hope. Olivia extended her free hand, and waited. After a breath that felt endless, the girl bolted forward, burying her face against Olivia’s vest, arms clinging tight. Olivia shifted her, one arm supporting the small body against her side, chest aching at the raw, unfiltered trust.

Behind her, Elliot crouched low, his gun still trained, body angled defensively, but his voice gentle. “Hey, buddy. You ready?” His hand extended, palm out, steady.

The boy hesitated, just a flicker, then slid his small hand into Elliot’s. His grip was tight, desperate. Elliot closed his fingers around it, gave the slightest nod. A promise sealed without words.

The girl whimpered again, her voice hoarse. “Are you the police?” she whispered into Olivia’s vest, muffled but trembling with need.

Olivia’s throat burned. “Yeah, sweetheart. We’re the police.”

The girl clung tighter, as though that word alone could hold her together.

“Clear,” Elliot murmured into his comm. “Two secured.”

“Copy,” Fin’s voice came back, clipped but steady. “Exit through the north path, two more shelters to sweep before you’re in the clear. Eyes sharp—lotta blind angles.”

They moved fast, keeping low, guiding the children into the narrow passage that wound between structures. The dirt shifted under their weight. Every shadow felt like a waiting threat. Olivia kept her weapon trained ahead, the girl’s tiny fingers gripping her vest strap. Behind her, Elliot had the boy tucked close to his side, his free hand sweeping corners with lethal precision.

“Hold,” Bruno’s voice cut through. “Movement east side. Three men, rifles. Don’t take that route.”

“Copy,” Elliot answered. His hand brushed Olivia’s arm, signaling a shift. She nodded, adjusting course, leading them through a narrower gap between two patched walls that reeked of mildew.

The little girl whimpered against her, the sound small but piercing. Olivia ducked low, murmuring just for her. “Almost out, baby. So close. Just a little longer.”

Ahead, a ladder leaned crookedly against another shack, rungs half-rotted but holding. Elliot tested the first with his boot, then motioned them forward. Olivia guided the girl carefully down into the open, the child’s weight pressed tight against her chest. Elliot helped the boy, steadying his balance with one hand while keeping his weapon angled upward, ready.

The creak of wood echoed like a warning, but no one came. Step by step, they cleared it.

At the bottom, the flap of canvas revealed the outside. Fresh air seeped in, sharp with pine and rain.

Olivia’s pulse kicked hard. They were almost out.

“North path clear,” Velasco reported in their ears. “Bring them through.”

Elliot squeezed the boy’s hand once, guiding him forward. Olivia shifted the girl on her hip, her other hand tight on her weapon. Together, they pushed into the night.

The woods swallowed them whole, cool and damp. Two other officers appeared from the trees, moving to take the children gently. Olivia lowered the girl into waiting arms, giving her one last squeeze before letting go. Elliot crouched, meeting the boy’s gaze level.

“You’re safe now,” he said quietly, voice rough with promise. “Stay with them.”

The boy nodded, reluctant to let go, before his hand finally slipped free.

The kids disappeared into the trees, escorted toward safety. For the first time that night, Olivia let her shoulders drop half an inch, air filling her lungs deeper than it had since they’d pulled in.

Two kids out, but they still had many more hiding behind those makeshift walls.

-000-

The next three pulls went just as smooth. Almost too smooth. Each child was hustled into the trees where officers waited, and with every extraction the tension eased just a little. Confidence crept in at the edges.

Everything was going perfectly. Until the final retrieval.

The smallest girl, no older than six, crouched in the back of a half-collapsed hut that reeked of rot and oil. She was barefoot, knees pulled to her chest, tear tracks cutting through the grime on her cheeks. She shivered violently, a nightgown the only thing warding off the night chill. Olivia spotted her first, lowering her weapon just enough to soften her stance.

“Hey,” she murmured, her voice gentle. “You’re okay. We’re going to get you out of here, okay?”

The girl didn’t move. Her wide eyes darted between Olivia and Elliot, flinching at every muffled gunshot outside. Olivia holstered her weapon long enough to extend her hand. “Sweetheart, you’re safe now. I promise.”

The promise worked. The child crawled forward, then launched herself into Olivia’s arms, clinging like she’d been waiting her whole life to be caught. Olivia folded her close, chest aching, and glanced at Elliot. His jaw was tight, eyes sweeping the gaps in the patched walls, always scanning for the threat that hadn’t come yet.

“Final retrieval secured,” Elliot reported into his mic. His voice was steady, but Olivia easily clocked the edge beneath it.

“Copy,” Fin answered. “South side still hot. Bruno’s holding them back, but move fast. Get out through the north path.”

They moved. Olivia kept the girl clutched against her chest, one hand on her weapon. Elliot covered her flank, his presence at her shoulder a shield as much as a shadow.

The path between huts stretched too long, each step echoing louder than the last. The air was thick, every flap of tarp or groan of wood a warning.

They didn’t see it coming.

Gunfire exploded from both ends of the narrow lane, deafening in the confined space. Tin buckled, wood splintered, shards flying. Elliot shoved Olivia and the child hard into the corner of a shack, his body taking the angle, weapon barking in return fire.

“Shit!” Elliot snapped.

“The hell was that?!” Fin snapped, his voice clipped with urgency.

A round tore through a sheet of tin, grazing Elliot’s shoulder. The impact spun him sideways, his grunt muffled in the chaos. Blood bloomed fast against his vest strap.

“Elliot!” Olivia dropped, shielding the girl with her body as she fired back.

She flipped back around only to find Elliot on the ground, back against the tin wall, hand pressing against the bleeding wound.

“I’m fine—get her out!” His voice cracked like a whip, fury covering pain.

A dark memory flashed like lightning. For a moment all she could see was the cold steel of a firearm pressed to his temple. Him begging her to take the shot, and her begging him not to make her make that choice. Him pushing her away and her refusing to move.

She shook away the thoughts and pressed the girl into the corner, her free hand gripping Elliot’s vest. “Not without you.”

“Liv!” His snarl was feral, desperate. “Go!”

The walls closed in—gunfire ricocheting, the thin structures choking with dust. Elliot staggered, braced hard against the patchwork siding, blood dripping hot through his fingers. The little girl sobbed against Olivia’s chest, shaking.

“Liv, I swear, if you don’t get the hell outta here…!” Elliot barked, trying to shove her back toward the exit, even as his knees wavered. “Do the job!”

Her weapon snapped up, rounds punching back down the lane. “I’m not leaving you!” she fired back, voice raw, eyes blazing.

She felt her heart pounding, and the familiar tingle of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Pinned. Outnumbered. Kids screaming. Elliot bleeding. The storm closing fast.

Pinned.

Outnumbered.

Kids screaming.

Elliot bleeding.

The storm closing fast.

The walls pressed in from every side, gunfire shredding the night. There was no cover left. No chance.

There was no way out.

Chapter Text

Olivia couldn’t move.

The world fractured around her, a kaleidoscope of blurred color and sound. Elliot was on the ground in front of her, blood blooming hot and fast across his vest, his face twisted in a way that made her chest seize. In her arms, the girl clung like a vise, thin arms hooked around her neck, breath stuttering against her collarbone. Somewhere in the distance she registered the sharp pop of gunfire. The air cracked with it, but she felt trapped in glass, stuck between one heartbeat and the next.

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

“Liv!”

The shout snapped her back just as Fin barreled in from the side, weapon up, eyes scanning, taking in the chaos in front of him. He turned and popped off a couple rounds before shaking his head.

“Always saving your asses,” he muttered under his breath, half a growl, half a vow.

The familiar bite of his voice snapped her into motion. She clutched the girl tighter with one arm and reached for Elliot with the other, her fingers knotting in the straps of his vest. He was heavy. The man was a goddamn wall of muscle, and she was trying to drag him one-handed.

He tried to swat her away, stubborn to the last, but faltered as he pushed himself up.

“Stubborn asshole.” She gritted her teeth, lungs burning as she hauled him upright.

“Let’s get outta here,” she said, tugging him forward.

Fin’s shots cracked overhead, precise and controlled, forcing their attackers back.

Olivia stumbled forward, boots splashing into a muddy puddle, cold water soaking up her shins. The girl whimpered against her, face buried, but Olivia didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Her fist stayed locked in Elliot’s vest, dragging him through muck and foliage, every ounce of her strength bent toward keeping him moving.

Branches clawed at them as they neared the tree line. Fin’s voice cut through behind her, clipped commands, the calm fury of a man who had spent his entire career holding the line. She didn’t look back—her gaze stayed fixed forward, on the dense shadows of the woods that promised cover and safety.

And then—hands. Hands reaching, grabbing, pulling them through. A team member wrenched the girl from her arms, rushing her deeper into the dark. She found herself vacillating between relief and guilt. Relief that they made it out, that the girl appeared unharmed. Guilt for the rushed handoff, and the flash of fear in the child’s eyes. Part of her wanted to follow the, to ensure that she would be safe and taken care of, but the groan from Elliot had her whipping back around. 

Medics had begun their assessment, and Elliot continually tried to push himself into a sitting position. 

“Sir we need you too…” 

“Damn it I’m fine! Just let me—“ 

Another pair of arms pressed Elliot flat, but his thrashing movements caused the bloodstain beneath his shirt to grow. 

It would come down to her it seemed. 

She pushed past one of the medics and knelt in the dirt next to him. 

“Elliot!” She shouted at him. 

His wild eyes immediately found hers. She held back tears as she pressed down on his good shoulder. 

“Would you shut up and let them help you already?” She tried to lighten the mood with the lighthearted jab. 

“I’m…” he tried to push himself up again only to have multiple sets of hands forcing him down. 

“If you say “you’re fine” one more time, I’m going to make sure you aren’t fine. Now, Lay down!” 

She watched him settle slightly, and tried not to panic at the blood pooling beneath him. . 

The medics quickly packed the wound and whisked him away before she could say another word. 

Everything blurred too fast for her to decide her next move. She couldn’t throw herself into the ambulance beside him, couldn’t step back into command at Fin’s side.

Olivia stood there, empty arms hanging useless at her sides, watching as the shadows swallowed them whole.

Her feet moved anyway, one step and then another, even as her ears still rang. The gunfire dulled with every stride, echoing further and further away. Fin’s silhouette shifted in the distance, still guarding their flank.

She stayed wrapped in the safety of the shadows, chest heaving, the echo of blood and smoke and Elliot’s weight still clinging to her skin.

Alone, in the cover of the trees.

-000-

The hospital chair was hard, plastic edges digging into her back, but Olivia didn’t move. She sat hunched forward, hands slack between her knees, Elliot’s blood drying in dark stains across her shirt and jacket. Mud streaked her jeans, grit caught under her fingernails. She hated this part—the waiting, the helplessness. And God, she hated how many times she’d found herself here before. Sitting under too-bright lights, his blood on her clothes, wondering if this was the time he wouldn’t pull through.

Nine lives. That’s what she told herself. Elliot Stabler had nine damn lives, and he’d already burned through more of them than most men ever got. He’d be fine. He had to be fine.

Her mind rewound on loop—the crack of gunfire, the way he stumbled, the weight of him dragging against her grip. The way she’d fisted her hand into his vest like sheer force of will could keep him upright. No. It had to have been the edge of his vest, just a slip in the armor. A nick. That was all. Nothing more.

Still, her stomach wouldn’t unclench.

A sliver of doubt edged in, sharp and merciless. How many times could they do this? How many times could she sit in some waiting room with his blood drying on her skin before the odds caught up to them both? She pushed the thought down, shoved it hard into the dark corners. That was the fear talking. That wasn’t truth. She knew the truth: they would both keep doing this as long as the job let them. It was who they were.

Her phone buzzed against her thigh. She glanced down. Noah.

Her chest squeezed tight. She couldn’t answer. Not yet. Not until she knew. Guilt twisted in her gut as she pulled up her messages, thumb hovering while she tried to type out some explanation for her silence. Every word looked wrong. Too much, not enough, a lie no matter how she phrased it. With a sharp sigh she deleted the draft and slid the phone back into her pocket.

Nothing would stop his worry. Nothing except hearing her voice—and Elliot’s, too. And she couldn’t give him that. Not yet.

She pictured him pacing the apartment, jaw tight, worry written all over his face. He was old enough now to understand what it meant when his mom went dark after a raid. Old enough to know silence was never a good sign. That thought alone nearly undid her.

But if she picked up now, her voice would crack. He’d hear the panic she was choking back, the tears she refused to let fall. It would scare him more than the silence. And she couldn’t do that to him. Not when he already carried so much.

“Here.”

A paper cup appeared in front of her, steam curling from the lid. She looked up to find Fin settling into the chair beside her, his face drawn, his clothes smudged with the same forest grit and gunpowder haze she carried. He didn’t push the coffee into her hand, just set it on her knee until she wrapped her fingers around it.

“Nice look, Benson. Twigs and all. You should wear your hair like this more often.” He sipped his own coffee, casual, though his eyes carried the familiar levity.

She shook her head and took a swallow. “You’re an asshole.” Her voice didn’t have the strength for malice.

Her free hand brushed through her hair until she caught a loose twig. She plucked it free and flicked it at him.

“Hey!” He raised his hands defensively, though the twig barely grazed his jacket. “Truce.”

It earned him a smile, but it faded fast. Her eyes dropped back to the cup between her palms. “What’s the damage?” she asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

“They pulled out thirteen kids,” he said, voice low, steady. “Still running the count, but that’s where we’re at for now. Three adult males in critical—took some pretty bad hits, but they should make it.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Rest of ‘em scattered into the woods. FBI took lead chasing them down. Not sure how many they grabbed.”

“And on our end?”

“Looks like Elliot got it the worst on our side. There’s an FBI guy down the hall, but the bullet was a through and through, so he’s not gonna be here long.”

Her eyes stayed fixed on the dark liquid. Good. It was good. No casualties. At least not yet. That was all they could ask for, really.

“Oh, there was one casualty.”

Her head snapped up, stomach lurching.

“Bruno’s fancy spotting scope. Velasco dropped it in the mud somewhere out there. I’m thinkin’ it’s gone for good.”

A groan escaped her lips and she smacked his arm. “You asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” His grin came quick, lightening the air for just a second. “Just giving you fair warning. I’m not sure your detectives’ll make it through unscathed. Bruno’s all stealth—Velasco’s never gonna know when he’ll come for him.”

Olivia let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “Oh no. Not the spotting scope. How will we ever recover?”

Fin’s grin tugged wider before it faded, the shift in his expression sobering as quickly as it had come.

She lifted her cup again, the coffee still too hot, grounding all the same. “Enoch?” she asked, eyes focusing on some distant point.

Fin’s jaw tightened. “Yeah. Don’t know yet. My gut? His people’ll bleed themselves dry to cover him. Cult leaders, man—they don’t need to run fast. They got a hundred bodies ready to shield them.”

She exhaled, long and slow, the weight of it pressing heavy on her chest. “So he could’ve slipped right through our fingers.”

Fin didn’t answer, but his silence was answer enough.

They sat like that for a long minute, the low hum of the hospital around them—footsteps squeaking down linoleum halls, the faint beep of monitors drifting from rooms they couldn’t see. Her coffee went cold before she realized she hadn’t taken a sip.

“Detective Benson?”

She looked up, pulse kicking hard. A doctor stood in front of her, scrubs wrinkled, mask tugged loose under his chin.

Her breath caught.

“He’s stable,” the doctor said. “Bullet slipped past the edge of his vest—nicked an artery. We controlled the bleeding and repaired the damage. He lost a good amount of blood, but there’s no lasting injury. He’ll be sore, weak for a bit… but barring him doing anything reckless, he’ll be on his feet sooner than you think.”

Olivia let out a shaky breath. She knew exactly how reckless Elliot Stabler could be, but even so, the words were enough to break her open.

Her vision blurred before she could stop it. Relief hit like a tidal wave, dragging tears down her cheeks before she even realized they’d fallen. Embarrassment burned hot under her skin—she didn’t cry here, not in front of others—but she couldn’t stop it. Not this time.

Fin didn’t call her on it. He just sat back, arms crossed, the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth.

And Olivia let the tears fall.

-000-

Chapter Text

Olivia paused outside the door, hand pressed to the cool frame as if the metal could steady the quake inside of her.

Flashes of the day snapped through her brain in rapid succession. His cocky smile. His hands on her hips as he tightened her vest. The quiet professionalism as they moved through the compound. The tenor of his voice as he put the terrified children at ease.

And finally the sound of the ricochet. The gritting of his teeth before his heavy body hit the ground. The crimson pool gathering behind his vest.

He’s alive. He’s alive. He’s alive.

She tried to remind herself, but her body still hadn’t got the message. She still felt adrenaline pulsing, anxiety rocketing and terror skating around it all. Her knees threatened to give out, phantom weight dragging her down as if she were back in the mud with him. Her palms were clammy, her breath shallow, and still her body refused to believe what her mind whispered: he made it out.

The hallway pressed in around her — antiseptic sharp in her nose, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, nurses’ shoes squeaking against linoleum in the distance. Too bright. Too sterile. Too normal for the storm still screaming in her body. She blinked and for half a second she swore she saw the woods again: muzzle flashes splitting the dark, Elliot’s face twisted in pain. The echo of it rattled in her skull, colliding with memories of other waiting rooms, other nights she’d sat outside his hospital bed wondering if this was the time he wouldn’t come back.

All at once she needed to see him. Maybe proof that he was real, injured, but alive could calm her racing heart.

She pressed a hand against her stomach, hoping to quiet the quivering. With a slow breath she pushed the door open.

The steady beeping was her first greeting. A blip on a screen signaling the strength of his beating heart. He was alive, pale and bandaged, and the sight nearly brought her to her knees.

Her head whipped up when his voice carried over the rhythmic beeps.

“You gonna stand there all night, Liv, or actually come over here?” His voice was rough and hit her square in the chest.

One hand clamped over her mouth, the other pressed against her stomach as she tried to stifle the half-laugh, half-sob threatening to tear loose.

When he lifted a hand, relief slammed into her so hard it made her dizzy. She was across the room in three strides, clutching the bed rail like it could hold her upright.

“You look worried, baby.” The endearment was one they only ever tossed around in jest.

A shaky chuckle escaped as she rolled her eyes. “Well, excuse me for caring about your sorry ass. Maybe next time I’ll let Fin sit at your bedside.”

“God, I hope not.” He tried for a laugh, cut off by a wince. His eyes traced over her face, softer now. “Liv, you should see yourself. I’m fine.” He squeezed her fingers as if to prove it.

She blinked back the sting in her eyes. “And you should see your blood all over my shirt. Then maybe you’d understand why I can’t just take your word for it.”

She’d meant it to come off lighter, to keep the moment from tilting too far into the dark. But the words carried more weight than she intended, the truth bleeding through despite her best effort to disguise it.

His gaze held hers, voice dropping to something rougher, quieter. “You should’ve left me, Liv.”

Her breath caught. For a moment, she thought she’d misheard him.

“You had that girl in your arms,” he pressed, softer still. “You should’ve gotten her out. You shouldn’t have pulled me along.”

Her laugh cracked into a sob. “What was I supposed to do? Leave you to bleed out in the dirt? No. Not happening.”

“Liv.” He said her name low and deep, a hint of scolding, as if she of all people should know better.

“No. You’re not going to convince me that leaving my partner bleeding in the mud was the right choice.”

“That girl was more important right then. What if she got hurt? Would you be okay with that—because I wouldn’t.”

“The girl is fine.” She dismissed his concern, though her chest tightened because she knew he wasn’t going to let it drop.

She could feel his words burrowing under her skin, stoking the very fear she’d been trying to keep at bay. His voice was weak, uneven, but his eyes burned with conviction, and that was somehow worse. He believed it. He really believed she should’ve left him there.

Her eyes narrowed. “You know if the roles were reversed…” she pivoted, voice catching, “you made that choice once already. And I’m pretty sure you’d make the same choice now.”

“That’s—” he pinched his eyes shut. “That’s not the point.”

“Yes it is,” she countered softly, leaning closer. “You think my life has more value.”

“Of course it does!” His voice rose, the sudden force making her freeze. “Of course it does. You’re a captain. You lead a unit that protects women and children. On the cosmic scale I’d say your life matters more.”

She bit her lip, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you think that.” Her voice trembled as she pushed on, desperate to keep it steady. “I wasn’t thinking about protocol. Maybe for someone else it would have been a choice, but it wasn’t for me.”

Her pulse thundered in her ears. He still didn’t get it. He thought this was about rank, about leadership, about her title. It wasn’t. It was about him. About the hollow that would open up if she ever had to bury him. About the kids who already knew too much loss. She wanted to scream it, but the words tangled in her throat, too raw to give shape.

Her hand pressed hard against the blanket, knuckles white. “You don’t get it, El. There wasn’t a split second where I weighed it out. I saw you go down and my body just—moved. There was never a choice.”

His chest rose unevenly, whatever protest he had dying on his lips.

Her voice cracked, tears burning hot behind her eyes. “I don’t get to choose between you and the job. Not with you. Not anymore.”

The words hung between them, heavier than anything either of them had said. He didn’t argue. He only reached for her hand, his grip weak but insistent, and let the silence carry what neither of them could take back.

A soft tap on the door broke the silent stalemate. The hinges creaked as Fin’s silhouette filled the frame. “Sorry, Liv, but I need to run a few things past you.”

Her hand tightened around Elliot’s, eyes fixed stubbornly on his face.

“Just a few minutes,” Fin promised, his voice low, steady.

Elliot’s fingers gave hers a weak squeeze. “I’m fine. I promise not to croak in the next five minutes.”

Her throat constricted, a laugh catching on a sob. “Ass,” she muttered, reluctant as she peeled her hand from his and followed Fin into the hall.

The door clicked shut behind them, muffling the steady beeps of Elliot’s monitor. Olivia stopped just outside, arms wrapping tight across her chest as if she could hold herself together that way.

Fin glanced at her, his voice low. “How’s he doing?”

She swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the floor. “Stable. That’s what they said.” A pause stretched, heavy and brittle. She shook her head once, as if trying to dislodge something she couldn’t say.

When her voice came, it was barely more than a whisper. “He told me I should’ve left him.”

Fin’s eyes stayed steady on her.

“And the thing is—I believe him,” she admitted, voice rough. “That’s who he is. And it still… it guts me hearing him say it.”

Fin exhaled through his nose, almost a huff. “Yeah. That tracks. Guy’s been carrying Catholic guilt longer than I’ve been carrying a badge.” His gaze held hers, firm. “But that’s his cross, Liv. Not yours.”

Her eyes flicked up, wet and raw. “But knowing he believes it—that he’d rather I walked away—how do I live with that?”

“You don’t,” Fin said simply. “You live with what you did. You pulled him out. You pulled that girl out. That’s enough.”

She nodded faintly, though the words didn’t lift the weight pressing down on her chest.

“What’s happening with the others?” she asked finally, her voice low.

Fin leaned back against the wall, arms folded. “Organized chaos. We’ve got a mess of kids downstairs, parents claiming some, refusing others. Half of ‘em are too scared or confused to say anything. It’s a nightmare trying to figure out who belongs to who.”

He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “One kid swore up and down a man was his father. The guy wouldn’t even look at him. Another little girl kept insisting two different women were her mom. Nobody’s giving us the truth, and the kids are too shell-shocked to know what’s real.”

Her stomach turned, but she forced herself to focus. “And the adults?”

“Same story. Everybody swears they’re just followers. Nobody’s stepping up as the one in charge.” He shook his head. “We’re not even sure we’ve got the leader. No one’s giving us a damn thing that points to him.”

Olivia closed her eyes briefly, her body caught in two worlds—one where children were still pawns in a game they couldn’t escape, and one where Elliot’s voice was still whispering from behind the door. You should’ve left me.

“What about the ones who ran?” she asked.

“Feds are chasing shadows in the trees,” Fin said. “Maybe they get lucky, maybe not. Either way, it’s gonna take a while to sort through the ones we did bring in. Right now it’s all smoke.”

She felt it again—the same relentless tug-of-war that never seemed to let her rest. The steady rhythm of Elliot’s monitor on one side of the wall, the rising noise of the job on the other. Personal and professional, colliding until it felt like she was being pulled in two directions at once.

The hall stretched in both directions—chaos at one end, Elliot’s room at the other. For the first time in years, she didn’t know which way to go.

Chapter Text

Dickie clicked his phone onto vibrate so the constant pinging wouldn’t fracture the heavy silence pressing down on the apartment.

Stabler Sibling Group Chat

K: Anyone hear from Dad or Liv yet?

D: Not yet.

L: I hate this part.

D: We all do. But relax — he’s too damn stubborn to die. He’ll outlive us all just to prove a point.

L: You’re literally the worst.

K: …but not wrong.

M: How are the kids doing, Dickie?

D: Nervous. But they’re pretty funny.

K: Why’s that?

D: One sec.

He snapped a picture of Noah and Hannah hunched over a National Geographic like it was classified intel, heads bent close together. Smirking, he hit send. It would buy him a few seconds of calm, at least.

M: Aw cuteness 😍

K: That’s pretty cute. It’s not like a crush sort of thing right? That could get weird.

D: I don’t think so. I’ll ask Noah at some point. Not tonight obviously.

K: Obviously.

M: You know what’s weird? They kind look alike. Uncanny actually.

D: Hadn’t noticed, but yeah. The hair, the eyes.

L: Weird. Maybe it’s like how Noah is always mistaken for Dad’s bio kid.

D: Yeah, that is a weird coincidence.

K: Okay I’m going to say it if no one else will… maybe we’re seeing what we want to see? Like we want her to be in the family.

M: That was kind of deep.

D: For real.

The silence stretched across the miles between them, filling the gaps their banter couldn’t cover.

K: You’ll let us know anything?

D: Of course. First thing.

Dickie locked his phone but left it face up on the coffee table. He could joke all he wanted, but the same sharp fear sat in his chest as it did in his siblings’. Being grown didn’t make it easier every time his father dove headfirst into a firefight. If anything, it made it worse. He knew exactly what was at stake.

“Dickie?” Noah’s voice drifted gently from the other side of the room.

Usually their relationship was jovial, a little boisterous, but tonight was different. Tonight the silence pressed heavy as they waited for word. Dickie swallowed, forcing a smile.

“What’s up?”

“What time do you think I can text my mom?”

Next to him, Hannah lifted her gaze. Two pairs of desperate blue eyes pinned him, waiting for answers he didn’t have.

Dickie sighed, sliding his phone to the edge of the coffee table where he’d see it if it lit up. He shifted closer on the sectional and checked his watch.

“You can text her now, but don’t stress if she doesn’t answer right away. It’s still a little early.”

Noah pulled his phone out and typed furiously. “I know, I know,” he muttered, “but when she gets her phone back on I want her to call me right away.”

Dickie understood the impulse and nodded. “That’s fine, but it still might be a while.” Maybe time for another distraction.

“Did your mom buy you that Lego set you were asking for?”

Noah’s eyes brightened. “Oh yeah, I totally forgot about it. Things have been a little crazy.”

“Okay, I feel dumb because you both like… whatever you’re talking about,” Hannah said softly. “What are Legos?”

Her innocent question cracked the tension. Noah chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s okay. I’ll show you. They’re pretty fun to build with.”

Hannah’s lips curved in a shy smile. “Okay.”

-000-

Later that evening, unease crept in. Not just about his dad — though that was always there — but about Eli. Dickie was annoyed, and more than a little worried, that his brother still hadn’t chimed in on their group chat.

He scrolled to Eli’s name and opened their thread. Shit. Had it really been that long?

He tapped out a quick message:

Hey man. Haven’t heard from you in a while. I’m assuming the girls told you everything going on. Call me when you get some time.

Three dots popped up, flickered, then vanished. No reply. That didn’t help.

Before he could stew on it, he noticed Noah pacing.

“Uh, Noh, you okay, man?”

Noah kept unlocking his phone, glaring at the screen. “They should be back to the local station by now. I just keep going straight to voicemail.” He shook his head. “I hate this part.” He jabbed the call button again, waited, then groaned and ended it. “That’s like the third time I’ve gone to voicemail.”

Dickie leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. It was getting late. Much later than he expected. Still, he couldn’t tell the kid that.

“Look, I get it. I hate this part too. But no news is usually good news, alright? If something was really wrong, they wouldn’t leave us hanging. They’d call.”

Noah’s pacing slowed, though he still chewed at his lip.

“And besides,” Dickie added with a shake of his head, “your mom? She’d kill him herself before she let anything take him down.”

That earned the faintest huff of a laugh. Dickie counted it as a win.

He glanced at Hannah, her eyes heavy. The girl was exhausted, still recovering from her own trauma. He needed Noah calm enough to let her sleep without making her feel like she was abandoning him.

He reached for the remote. “Let’s watch something, get your mind off it. We’ll try calling again in an hour. What do you think?”

Noah crossed his arms, studying him, but when he noticed how Hannah struggled to keep her eyes open, his empathy won.

He nodded, snagged a blanket from the back of the couch, and handed it to her. He sat down, though tension still knotted his shoulders.

“Thanks,” Hannah murmured. She wouldn’t last much longer. Dickie hoped she got at least a little rest.

Twenty minutes later, Noah’s phone buzzed furiously. He lunged for it while Dickie quickly muted the movie.

Noah swiped and put it on speaker.

“Hey, baby,” Olivia’s voice came through — strained, but steady.

“Mom!” Noah shouted, then lowered his voice when he saw Hannah asleep. “Are you… is Elliot…” He couldn’t get the words out.

“We’re okay… everything went… it went well.” Her voice sounded sure, but Dickie heard the edges she didn’t cover.

“Is Elliot with you?” Noah pressed. The pause on the other end made Dickie’s stomach clench.

“He is,” Olivia said at last. “But he’s… uh… he’s okay, he will be, but he got hurt.”

The words she didn’t say hung heavy. His dad had been shot.

Noah’s eyes watered, but he pushed on. “When will you be home?”

Another pause. Dickie swore he heard the faint beep of a heart monitor.

“I’m not sure yet, sweetheart.” Olivia sighed. “It might be a day or two. Honey, I know it’s hard, but… Elliot took a stray bullet. He’ll be okay, but it’ll be a little while before the doctors let him go home.”

She promised to call again once she knew more, then the line clicked dead. Noah sat frozen, phone clutched in his hand, eyes shining with tears.

Dickie cleared his throat, leaning back into the couch. “Hey. You heard her. He’s gonna be fine.”

Noah didn’t look convinced.

Dickie gave a short laugh. “Honestly? I’ll be surprised if the doctors even make it through the night without Dad talking them into sending him home. Guy doesn’t know how to follow orders—especially about resting.”

That earned the smallest huff of a laugh. Enough. If Noah needed something to hold onto, Dickie was more than happy to hand him his father’s legendary stubborn streak.

-000-

“The kids okay?” Elliot’s rasp pulled her away from staring at the blackened phone screen.

Olivia blinked, still hearing Noah’s voice in her head — the way it cracked between relief and fear. “They’re… holding it together. Better than I expected, honestly. But they’re scared.”

Images pressed in: Noah pacing, chewing at his lip until it bled. Hannah fighting sleep, wide-eyed with worry. Dickie joking too much, carrying weight he shouldn’t have to. All of them doing their best to hold steady while the ground kept shifting under their feet. She could still picture Noah clutching the phone like a lifeline, or Hannah trying to hide her trembling hands in the folds of a blanket. They were just kids, but tonight they carried themselves like soldiers waiting for news from the front.

“Of course they are.” Elliot shifted against the pillows, a hiss escaping as he adjusted. “Hell, I’m scared. I hate putting them through this.”

Olivia sat down on the edge of his bed, smoothing the blanket over his legs. “It’s not just tonight. It’s every time. Every raid, every late call. They live with the same dread we do, only they don’t get the armor that comes with the badge. They just get the waiting.”

His eyes softened, guilt flickering there, but she pressed on, her voice quieter now. “It breaks me, El. Watching them try to be brave, when they shouldn’t even have to think about this. They’re kids.”

His gaze softened, guilt flickering behind it.

“It’s not just them,” she admitted, her throat tightening. Her fingers toyed with the blanket edge. “Every time the phone rings, every time I don’t hear back…” The words faltered, thick with everything she’d never said out loud. The weight of what-if sat like stone in her chest.

That was when his hand found hers, rough and warm despite the IV taped along his arm. “Liv. I can take a bullet. I can take a lot of them, apparently.” He tried for humor, but his eyes gave him away.

“Elliot.” Her voice came out in a rush, half laugh, half scold. “I… I can’t lose you.”

“Better me than you. I’d take the bullet if it meant you got out alive.”

The words cracked something open in her. “Don’t say that.” She shook her head. Her voice dropped, raw. “Don’t you dare. Because that’s the only thing I can’t live through either.”

For a long moment, they just looked at each other, the beeping machines filling the silence.

Elliot appeared deep in thought but eventually he gave a crooked half-smile, like he was bracing himself. “I should probably tell you something.” A hint of teasing mischief lurked behind his words.

Her brows knit. “What now?” Suspicion dripping from her voice.

He chuckled nervously. “I, uh…” He rubbed his thumb across her hand. “I bought a ring. A while back. Didn’t know when I’d use it.” His eyes darted to her face, gauging her reaction. “I wasn’t gonna… I mean, I don’t think I was going to use it soon. I just…” he blew out a slow breath. “Just wanted to be ready.”

Olivia’s breath caught. Images flooded back — the day she’d found that small velvet box in his bathroom drawer, shoved beneath a mess of shaving cream and aftershave. She’d buried the memory, convinced she’d imagined it.

He shifted his weight a little nervously. “Say something. Or I might think I just screwed everything up.” He let out a nervous sort of laugh.

After another moment her laugh came out shaky. “So I wasn’t losing my mind. I really did find one.”

“You weren’t.” His voice softened, steady. “It was for you. Always was.”

And surprisingly, the idea of a ring didn’t scare her as much as it had a couple weeks ago. So much had happened since then, and sitting in a hospital room with the steady beep of a heart monitor as the unfortunate soundtrack of their lives, she realized she didn’t want to ever lose him.

Olivia swallowed hard, eyes burning. She could barely get the words out. “Don’t you dare make me wear black before I ever get to wear that.”

Elliot squeezed her hand, voice rough with equal parts promise and prayer. “Never.”

Chapter Text

She might actually kill him.

The man couldn’t stay sitting for more than ten minutes, and the last time he was up he tried to get something for Hannah and popped one of his stitches.

She was going to kill him.

“Elliot,” she warned, crossing her arms, “if you don’t sit down, I swear—”

“I’m fine.” He waved her off, wincing even as he said it. “Besides, Hannah needed water.”

Hannah ducked her head, the ghost of a smile tugging at her mouth. She’d already started to like the way he fussed over her, even when it cost him.

Olivia pinched the bridge of her nose. He was infuriating. Stubborn. Impossible. And yet, when she glanced at Hannah — curled up under a blanket, watching Elliot with wide, careful eyes — she saw the bond forming right in front of her. Two people healing in tandem, neither willing to admit how fragile they still were.

“Sorry. I probably could’ve got it,” Hannah murmured.

That was the last thing Olivia wanted — for Hannah to feel like asking for help was a burden.

“No, it’s okay, sweetheart.” She shot Elliot a glare. “Elliot just needs to remember he got shot and had major surgery.”

“It’s not that bad,” Elliot complained as he winced in pain.

Olivia lifted a hand, cutting him off. “I swear, Elliot, if I hear that one more time, I’m taking you back to the hospital and letting them deal with you for the next week.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it again.

The sound that broke the silence wasn’t what either of them expected — a little giggle, quickly muffled.

Both of them turned in tandem. Hannah was half-hiding behind the blanket, her hand clapped over her mouth, eyes wide.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, though her smile lingered.

Olivia’s chest tightened. It wasn’t just a laugh — it was the first flicker of something light breaking through the weight Hannah carried.

Elliot leaned forward just enough to catch her eye. “Don’t be sorry,” he said softly. “That laugh might’ve stitched me up better than the doctors.”

Olivia’s lips curved despite herself. She pressed a hand to Elliot’s shoulder in mock warning as she stood, shaking her head, but the smile stayed. For the first time in days, the apartment didn’t feel so heavy.

She lingered in the kitchen doorway, still within earshot.

Hannah ducked her head, cheeks pink. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Hey.” He tipped his head until she met his eyes. “Never apologize for joy, sweetheart. Especially not here.”

Olivia felt her chest squeeze, warmth threading through her ribs. This was what she wanted for Hannah — safety, moments where she could be a kid without fear.

Her phone buzzed against the counter, shattering it. The screen lit with a name she dreaded. CPS.

The smile slid from her face.

She glanced down at her phone, then back up at the sweet scene in front of her. She wouldn’t ruin their peace. Quietly, she slipped the phone from the counter, stepped onto the garden patio, and slid the glass door shut behind her.

“Benson.”

“Hi, Captain Benson — this is Jana from Child Protective Services. We spoke briefly last week when I checked in on Hannah’s temporary placement.”

“Of course,” Olivia said, her voice steady though her chest tightened.

“I’ve reviewed the reports your office submitted, and it’s clear Hannah will need something more permanent moving forward. At this point, reunification seems unlikely.”

Olivia had expected as much. The family groupings from the compound were a disaster — deliberate, she was sure. The children refused to give consistent identifications, some even insisting none of the adults were their parents. Chaos on top of trauma. Without proof of parentage, and with most of the adults facing serious jail time, CPS was already pushing toward long-term placements.

The timing felt cruel. Inside, Hannah had just laughed for the first time. Out here, Olivia was being reminded that none of this was simple, and none of it was guaranteed.

Jana didn’t pause. “I understand this is a lot to ask, but we can’t leave Hannah in limbo. If you want to move forward with a long-term placement, we’ll need formal documentation. If not, I’ll need to begin the process of finding another foster home for her.”

Olivia gripped the edge of the patio railing, knuckles blanching. The thought of Hannah packing up, being shipped off to strangers after everything she’d endured — it made her stomach twist.

But the conflict was real. Olivia knew the optics: Captain Benson, head of SVU, fostering a child from an active case her own squad was prosecuting. CPS would raise eyebrows, and IAB would have a field day.

“I… I need time,” Olivia managed.

“You don’t have much,” Jana said gently but firmly. “We’ll need to know within the week. If you intend to step forward, you should be prepared for scrutiny — professionally and personally.”

Olivia closed her eyes, exhaling. “I understand.”

“Good,” Jana replied. “I’ll check back in, but please… think carefully. Hannah needs stability.”

The line went quiet, and Olivia stood there, phone heavy in her hand. Inside, she could still hear the faint rise of laughter — Elliot’s gravelly chuckle, Hannah’s softer giggle mingling with it. And the thought of that being temporary gutted her.

She let the phone dim against her palm, the screen’s blue glow spelling out a deadline she hadn’t wanted. Behind the glass she could still hear Elliot’s laugh—low, a little rough—and Hannah’s tentative giggle, and the sound knotted something fierce and protective in her chest. She drew a steadying breath, the night air cool against her face, and for a sliver of a second she pictured the child who’d dared to laugh at the kitchen table and the long list of forms and subpoenas that threatened to pull that small, fragile peace apart.

We’ll figure this out, she told the dark, not Jana, not Elliot, but herself—an oath more than a plan—and slid the phone back into her pocket. Then she eased the glass door open and walked back inside, the click soft but small as a promise.

-000-

Olivia left Hannah’s door cracked as she toed down the hall. After a few nights of shutting Hannah’s door before sleep they learned it made her feel claustrophobic. From then on they left the door ajar.

She poked her head into Noah’s room and found him asleep with his light on, one arm hanging off the bed and a book left on the pillow. The scene made her smile. She walked to the edge of his bed, set the book on his nightstand, and pulled the crumpled comforter back up around his shoulders. She brushed a wild curl from his face. During the day he seemed so grown up, but something about the softness in his face and the set of his mouth reminded her of his toddler years.

A sharp nostalgia settled in her chest as she turned off his light and shut his door.

By the time she reached Elliot’s room he’d already gotten himself into bed. His shirt had been tossed into the hamper and he sat shirtless, like he normally did. Her eyes went to the clusters of bandages, carefully taped in place. She could have lost him.

She shook the thought away. He was with her. Alive. And a pain in her ass.

Olivia crossed the room, drawn to him even when he made her crazy. She sat carefully on the edge of the mattress, her gaze snagging on the gauze peeking beneath his bandages.

“You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I am resting,” Elliot shot back, his mouth quirking like he knew exactly how much he was pushing her. “Just… horizontally. Without the shirt.”

Her eyes narrowed, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her. “You’re impossible.”

His grin faded when he caught the shadow in her expression. “What happened?” he asked, voice dropping into that gravelly quiet he only used with her. “You’ve got that look.”

Olivia hesitated, running a hand over her face. She debated brushing it off, but Jana’s call was still fresh in her ears. “CPS called,” she admitted finally.

Elliot tensed, immediately alert despite the hour and the pain. “About Hannah?”

“About Hannah,” she confirmed, suddenly so, so tired. “The placement was emergency only. Jana wants to know what my plan is moving forward. If I can’t keep her, they’ll start looking for another foster home.”

His brow furrowed. “So we tell them she stays. Simple.”

“It’s not simple.” Olivia rubbed her forehead. “I can’t sign as her foster parent while I’m leading the case against her biological parents. CPS knows it, and IAB would jump all over it. They’d call it a conflict of interest.”

Elliot didn’t miss a beat. “Then put it under my name. I’ll sign the paperwork. Problem solved.”

She looked at him, both grateful and unsettled. “That puts it all on you.”

He shrugged. “If that’s how it needs to be, then we do it that way. She’s already ours, Liv. Ours. I don’t want her to get lost in the system while this plays out.”

Her chest tightened. “I know, and I don’t either. She’s safe here, and I worry… if we let her go, we lose what safety we can ensure for her.”

“We won’t let that happen. I’ll sign the paperwork. She’ll be under my guardianship and you can stay removed enough to continue pursuing the case.”

She nodded. He was right, but something tugged at the edges of comfort.

“What are you thinking?” he finally asked.

“Nothing,” she said too quickly. The look on his face told her he wasn’t backing off. “Nothing really. I just don’t want Hannah to think we’re doing this because I don’t want her. She’s secure with you, and she responds well to me, but not like she does with you and Noah. What if my refusal to take guardianship makes it seem like I don’t want her?”

He reached for her hand, wincing at the tug on his stitches. “It’s fine.” He grimaced. “She will understand. Just explain it to her. She’ll understand if you tell her why we have to do it this way.”

He hesitated, and Olivia prodded. “What?”

“Nothing.” A half-smile tugged at his mouth.

She rolled her eyes.

“What?” she asked again.

“You know if we want to adopt this kid together… it’s a little easier if we have the same last name.”

She smacked his arm without thinking.

“Ah!” he yelped.

She climbed up onto the bed. “Oh shit. Sorry. You can’t say stuff like that right now.” She rubbed the arm she’d hit, eyes focused on the skin beneath her fingers. He lifted her chin so she had to meet his gaze.

“I’m never going to rush you. I’m never going to push you into this. I’ll wait my whole life if you want, but I know what I want, Liv. I’ve known for a long time.”

Olivia’s throat tightened at his words. For a second she just looked at him, at the stubborn set of his jaw and the raw honesty in his eyes. Then she leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before he could say anything else.

“Good thing I know what I want too,” she murmured, her voice soft but sure.

The corner of his mouth lifted, and she felt the answering tug in her own chest.

Elliot’s grin widened, even as he winced at the tug in his side. “So… we’re agreed?”

“On what?” she teased, settling against his shoulder.

“That we both want the same thing.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling into the curve of his neck. “Go to sleep, Stabler.”

Chapter Text

Hannah curled tighter beneath the quilt, breath held as though stillness could make the words she’d overheard the night before disappear. Permanent placement. Conflict of interest. Olivia’s voice, low but certain, had carried through the crack in the door. The rest blurred, but those fragments stayed sharp as glass. Olivia couldn’t keep her. Didn’t want to, maybe. Hannah pressed her palms against her ears, but the echo lingered. This wasn’t her home, not really—it never had been.

Her eyes roamed the room. The soft blanket folded at the foot of her bed. The lamp shaped like a star that Noah had insisted would make her smile. The books stacked neatly on the nightstand, their spines uncreased because she was still afraid to bend them. All of it chosen for her. All of it temporary. The safety. The family. Noah and Elliot. Even Olivia. This was just a dream she had wandered into, and soon enough she’d wake in the dark cold children’s room again.

Tears threatened, but she forced them back. Crying only ever made things worse. She knew better than to let anyone see her crack. The only way to survive was to toughen up. Get through. Pretend she didn’t care if Olivia didn’t want her. Pretend she hadn’t let herself believe.

The knock at her door was soft, almost careful. “Hannah?”

Olivia’s voice.

Hannah froze, then sat up and yanked the quilt around her shoulders like armor. “Yeah?”

The door opened an inch, just enough for Olivia to peek in. Her smile was tentative. “Morning. Thought I’d see if you wanted pancakes. Noah’s already downstairs.”

Hannah’s throat closed. She should have said yes, should have accepted the warmth in Olivia’s tone. But the words she’d overheard beat louder in her head. She shrugged instead, eyes on the wall. “I’m not hungry.”

Olivia hesitated. “You sure? I can save you a plate.”

“I said I’m not hungry.” Sharper this time. Cold, the way she wanted it to land.

There was a pause. Olivia’s smile slipped. She nodded, backing out quietly. “Okay. I’ll let you get dressed.”

When the door clicked shut, Hannah let out the breath she’d been holding. Distance was safer. Distance meant it wouldn’t hurt as much when Olivia handed her over to someone else.

Later, footsteps thudded up the stairs. Not Olivia’s. Heavier, steady. Elliot leaned against the doorway, his jacket half-buttoned like he’d been rushing. “You’re gonna be late for school if you don’t move, kid.”

Hannah looked up at him, wary but not as frozen as before. Elliot was different. He had carried her out of that place. His arms had been the first safe ones she’d ever known. She still felt the memory of his hand steady on her back when everything else had been smoke and screaming.

“I don’t…” she began, but the words tangled.

Elliot crossed to her bed, crouching so he was eye-level. “What’s going on?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” His voice was gentle, not pushing, but enough to make her chest ache.

For a second she wanted to tell him everything—the words she’d overheard, the terror of losing this home before she’d even had time to belong. But trust was dangerous, and she’d already been stupid enough to trust once. She pulled the quilt tighter and shrugged again. “Just tired.”

He studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. But you know you can talk to me, right? About anything.”

She met his eyes, and something in her eased just enough. Elliot had saved her life. Maybe he really meant it.

By the time she made it downstairs, Noah was cramming books into his backpack, hair still sticking up from sleep. He grinned when he saw her. “Finally. Thought you were gonna hide up there all day.”

Hannah managed a faint smirk. “Maybe I should have.”

Noah slung his backpack over one shoulder, then lowered his voice so Olivia—busy rinsing plates in the kitchen—couldn’t hear. “Hey. Whatever happens, you’re not alone, okay? I won’t let anyone hurt you again. Promise.”

The words hit her harder than she expected. She didn’t answer, just stared at him, searching his face for any trace of pity. There wasn’t any. Only Noah’s steady certainty, like he believed it with his whole heart.

Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to nod. Not because she believed promises—promises had always been broken—but because she wanted to believe him.

-000-

The precinct was already humming when Olivia stepped inside, voices overlapping in a haze of tension and exhaustion. Detectives clustered around files, social workers huddled near the conference room, and the low buzz of children’s chatter leaked through the walls where they’d been gathered.

Olivia took it all in with practiced composure, but her mind snagged on the memory of Hannah’s eyes that morning—flat, shuttered, so different from the tentative warmth she’d been showing only days ago. Something had shifted. Olivia had felt it like a door closing, but she didn’t know why.

She squared her shoulders, shoving the worry down for later. There was work to do. And chaos waiting.

Fin didn’t hesitate. “We got a couple guys with priors—their prints flagged fast.” He dropped two files into her hand. Two. Out of ten. A headache pulsed sharp behind her left eye.

“And the rest?”

He trailed her into her office as she set the files on her desk.

“Nothin’ yet. Bruno and Velasco are chasing leads, but I’m bettin’ it’s a whole lot of nothin’.”

“Perfect,” Olivia muttered. “So we have nothing. Literally nothing.”

Fin lifted his hands. “What do you expect, Liv? You’ve got a holding cell full of white guys who haven’t showered in God knows how long, lived off the grid for years. We’re shooting in the dark, and yeah—we got nothin’.” He shook his head, voice softening. “We’re not CSI with some magic database. Half these guys barely exist on paper.”

She slumped into her chair, tilted her head back until the ceiling blurred, then forced herself upright. “And the kids?”

“CPS is working overtime, but they’re in rough shape.” He glanced toward the corner where three kids huddled close, social workers crouched low, speaking gently. “They’re scared outta their minds—and I don’t blame ’em.”

Olivia rubbed at her temple. “Any leads on Father Enoch?”

Fin shook his head. “Nothin’. We’re still whittlin’ it down, but these guys? Might be crazy white people, but they’re smart. Covered their tracks.”

Her jaw tightened. Every answer felt like another wall slamming shut. “So what’s our next move?”

Fin hesitated, shifting his weight like he hated what he was about to say. “We do got one person talkin’. Your girl, Hannah.”

Her protective instincts flared before logic could catch up. “No.” Too much had already been taken from that child. Temporary custody or not, Olivia felt the obligation like a weight pressing on her chest. Hannah was her responsibility. Her child.

“Liv, she’s the only one who knows the ins and outs of this mess. The only one who can straighten it out.” He paused, choosing his words with care. “The girl’s dad is supposed to be the leader, right? Maybe she doesn’t even have to say much. It should be obvious the second she walks in who her father is.”

Olivia’s stomach twisted. Hannah has already done everything we asked. How much more can we bleed from her? The thought burned as hot as her voice. “No. Absolutely not. She’s a child, Fin. A child who nearly died a week ago. I’m not putting her through another round of hell just so we can take a shortcut.”

Fin didn’t flinch. “Shortcut? Liv, this isn’t about convenience. It’s about catching the people who did that to her. Who’s still out there, maybe gearing up to do it again.”

She pushed out of her chair, pacing, hands braced on her hips. “She’s not a damn witness, she’s a victim. And I’m not dragging her back in here to relive it.”

“Liv,” he said, softer now but firm as steel. “She’s the only one who can tell us what we need to know. These guys are ghosts—no IDs, no paper trails, no slips. Hannah? She’s the one thread that ties Enoch to this whole thing. We pull it, maybe we unravel him.”

Her throat tightened. The weight of responsibility pressed down—captain, cop, protector, mother. “She’s a kid,” she said again, but it came out thinner, edged with desperation.

“And she’s stronger than you give her credit for,” Fin countered, not unkind. “But you keep treating her like glass, and all those guys out there are gonna walk.”

Olivia’s hands curled into fists on her desk. “What about the two guys with records? Maybe they’ve got something to say.”

Fin’s expression didn’t change. “And what leverage we got on ’em? Almost nothin’. Couple old felonies, some time served. They’re not gonna flip, not when they’ve already lived this long off the grid without talkin’.”

Her pulse thudded in her ears. So that’s it? Two useless files, a dozen ghosts, and a child we’re supposed to bleed dry for answers.

Fin leaned forward, voice steady, almost gentle but unyielding. “Like it or not, Hannah’s the one with the key. We can’t keep walkin’ circles, Liv. Not when the man at the center of this is still out there.”

Olivia exhaled through her nose, sharp and uneven. She hated it, but Fin was right. They had nothing else, and every hour Father Enoch stayed in the wind, the trail went colder.

Her gaze drifted past Fin to where Hannah sat with the social worker, small shoulders curled forward, the picture of fragility and resilience all at once. How do I ask more of her? How do I tell her it’s not over?

“Fine,” Olivia said at last, voice low. “But it’s on me to bring it up. She trusts me.”

Fin nodded, satisfied but cautious. “I know you’ll handle it. But Liv—you know Stabler’s gonna lose his mind.”

The corner of her mouth tightened. That’s the problem. Convincing Hannah would be delicate. Convincing Elliot would be war.

-000-

She waited until the house was quiet. The kids were asleep, the dishes stacked, and only the low hum of the refrigerator filled the kitchen. Olivia sat across from him, hands wrapped around a mug gone cold.

“Fin thinks we need to bring Hannah back down to the precinct,” she said at last, the words like lead on her tongue.

Elliot froze, every muscle locked tight. “No.” His voice was low, sharp. “Absolutely not.”

She didn’t even get a chance to open her mouth before he shoved his chair back and shot to his feet. The sudden movement made him wince, his hand flying to his shoulder, but it didn’t slow him down.

“No. Absolutely not.” His voice was sharp enough to cut. “You think I’m letting them drag her back down there? After everything she’s been through? After almost dying?” He jabbed a finger toward the floor, toward where Hannah slept above them. “She’s barely breathing normal at night and you want to sit her under those lights, in front of strangers, and make her point out her father?”

He shook his head, pacing the length of the kitchen like a caged animal. “No chance. Not while I’m still standing. I don’t care what Fin says, I don’t care what the case needs—she’s a kid. Our job is to protect her, not use her.”

“Do you think I want to do this?” Olivia snapped, the words hot and fast. “Do you think I didn’t fight to keep her out of all of it? You’re not the only person who cares about what happens to her, Elliot!”

He kept pacing until his fist landed on the counter. For a long beat he stared at the laminate, jaw working. “She’s been through enough.” When his eyes found hers there was rawness there—fear, grief, a kind of furious helplessness. “She’s been through enough.”

Olivia dared one step closer. He didn’t move, so she took another. “I know.” Her voice dropped, steadying. “But she can do this.”

“I don’t want to make her do it.” He finally looked away, exhaling like he’d been holding his breath. “I know she can. I’m just saying she shouldn’t have to.”

Her fingers closed around his forearm, thumb tracing a slow, talismanic line. “You’re right. She shouldn’t have to. But we’re out of options, and I’ll be damned if any of these men walk because we didn’t do everything we could to put them away.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, shoulders bowing as if the fight had drained out of him. “Okay,” he said, voice rough. “If this is what it takes, we’ll do it. But don’t ask me to pretend I’m okay with it.”

Chapter Text

Hey everyone,

It’s breaking my heart to say this, but I wanted to be upfront that I’m going through a really difficult situation in my personal life and need to take a break from posting.

I don’t mind getting a little personal with you, because you’ve all been so wonderful and supportive. My husband and I have been married for sixteen years. He’s always been pretty controlling, but things have escalated to the point where I’m worried about my safety and that of my kids.

Right now, I need to prioritize stability for my kids and peace at home as I prepare to make some incredibly difficult decisions.

Writing and connecting here means so much to me, and I don’t take this community for granted. You’ve provided connection and comfort in a time when I’ve felt isolated. I’ll still be around reading messages when I can, but updates are on pause for a while as I work to get life stabilized.

I’ll still write when I can — and who knows, maybe someday soon I’ll get to binge-dump everything I’ve been working on through this strange chapter of my life.

Thank you, truly, for being the kind of people who make a stranger feel less alone. 💛