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“A person is, among all else, a material thing, easily torn and not easily mended.” - Ian McEwan, Atonement
She’s not ready for more, but she still wants him in her life. So he waits — patiently, like the sea waits for the sand; like the morning grass waits for the morning dew. Eventually, both collide, bound together by the inevitableness of life.
At first, he decides that he must give her space because he knows that she wants space. He knows her like the back of his very own hand. He knows he ways because in a way, he is her. Like her, his childhood was traumatic; his father was dedicated to his job, and when that job turned from him — when he lost who he was — he looked to his son as who he could be. That meant that young Elliot was tormented by the shadow of his father’s failures; thrown into the cesspit of his father’s turmoil when he was too young to process what it meant to be a man.
His father constantly spoke about how much of a failure he was. He was soft, he was a pansy, he cried, he showed emotion. And so, Elliot learned a long time ago to run from anything like that — anything that made him seem weak; weak like the man his father saw whenever he looked at him.
So, at first, he ran from Olivia. His eyes would linger on her name in his phone; he’d linger on those 6 letters — Benson — and will himself not to call her. How could he call her if she wasn’t ready? How long should he wait to call her? Is that what she expected from him?
The longer he waited, the more that part of him that always ran was filled. Whenever he looked at his phone, he thought about how much running had torn his life apart by the seams. Running at been the catalyst to all of his life’s traumas.
He ran from his father’s home to the arms of his wife Kathy when he’d impregnated her at seventeen years old. He’d run to the Marines when the fear of failing his young wife and daughter knocked around in the pits of his mind each night. He’d ran to the police academy when he felt inadequate as a Marine and couldn’t bear the treasures of war any longer. He’d ran from his marriage when his rage bubbled over and became an uncontrollable fire due to the trials and tribulations of his marriage. He’d ran from Liv the first time because of his feelings.
You and this job are about the only things I have left.
I wish I didn’t. I wish I didn’t —
He’d stared at her holding the trigger, eyes widened with fear. Fear that she’d take his life, and fear that he didn’t care about his so long as she made it out alive. The way he loved her scared him. It caused him to run, yet again, away from her without a word.
He was so scared of the ending. If he called, he’d know, he’d know that it was the ending of Liv. The ending of him and Liv; the ending of the fierceness of his feelings, or even worse, the beginning of them. He couldn’t bare to look her in the eyes, those big, brown eyes, and tell her that yet another person was leaving her. He couldn’t stand in front of her and do anything that would cause her pain.
Instead of doing that; instead of facing that ending head on, he’d ran from it like everything else that made him afraid in his life. He ran from failure and endings and happiness and love; he was only taught to run, never to walk, never to accept things as they were. And a person can only be what they were taught to be.
It only changes now, he surmises. And so, he’d booked yet another appointment with the department shrink and sat in his office staring at the pale blue walls. He’d counted the ticks of the clock — one, two, three, four — and, he’d counted the beats of his heart — tha thump, tha thump, tha thump thump — until the door creaked open. The older man’s face lifted, eyes twinkling with excitement at the prospect of seeing him once again. Elliot just felt dread. He knew that apart of gaining Liv’s trust, of her being ready, was figuring out how he could make this right. He’d have to challenge his instincts; he’d have to force himself to talk.
The shrink waited at the door as Elliot’s heavy footsteps head inside. Each footstep clomped down on the floor with force. The footsteps were of a big man; a man who encompassed space, but all the shrink saw was a small man, a lonely man — he saw the child inside of the big man who was desperate for stability; the one bound by his faith so dutifully that he’d run away from the things which brought him what he wanted.
Finally, after moments of deathly silence, the shrink spoke. “What brings you here again, Detective Stabler?”
Elliot draws in a deep breath, willing his heart to stop pitter pattering for a second. His light eyes dart around the room uncomfortably, his shoulders sit up — stiff, against the sides of his neck. He looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else, yet here he was. “I want to figure out how to atone for running.”
The shrunk chuckled. “Atonement? As in what happens when we relieve ourselves of our sins?”
“Atonement,” Elliot repeats, eyes still wandering around the room everywhere but at his therapist. “Yeah, like in church. I’m Catholic.”
The shrink scribbles something onto his notebook – Catholicism, very devoted to faith before everything — before continuing on with Elliot. He notes his demeanor; his head bowed in shame, his shoulders heavy as if the weight on his back has moved them higher than they’d naturally be. Everything depends upon his faith, of atonement, of forgiveness, of penance.
“In Catholiscism, Jesus suffered for the sins of everyone else,” the shrink begins, his words measured and slow. Elliot’s eyes drift downward, as if in deep thought. “He took on the sins of others so that they wouldn’t have to suffer. Atonement means that we must suffer in order to prove our obedience, right?”
Elliot only nods, his eyes still bowed downward.
“What is atonement to you and why are you seeking it?”
Elliot pauses, his mind racing with thoughts of his past. He’d suffered at his job for years because he wanted victims to get justice. He’d suffered so much that he couldn’t bare it anymore and all of that anger stuck to him like a virus. But more than that’d atonement to him was the agony the love that he held for Liv. The sheer exaltation that he feels whenever her eyes land upon his. He’s hurt her, more than anyone should ever hurt someone. He’s caused her pain, and worse than that, he’d caused her a pain that he’d promised he would never cause her. He’d left her after everyone else had, and he’d proved to her that no one could be trusted.
His brows furrow at the question as his too large hands fumble together, squeezing his palms tightly on his lap. “Atonement is pain that’s deserved,” he says simply. “I caused someone that I love —,” he pauses. “No, I — I don’t know if I can talk about that, Doc.”
The shrink only sits, scribbling more onto his notebook. Intense, intense (!!!!) Catholic guilt happening here, must be gentle with this one. “You don’t have to talk about that,” the shrink says gently. “I remember we spoke about new beginnings last time. Did you try that out with the partner you lost?”
Elliot hums, his eyes drifting to the window as those crystal clear blue eyes fill with unshed tears. “I did,” he whispers. “She wants this — she wants me, but I’ve hurt her and I’m —,” he pauses, gulping the air around him like a fish seeking any shred of water to breathe. “I’m —,” he wipes his eyes, still deeply fearful of appearing vulnerable and weak around anyone, lest that be beaten out of him again. “I’m scared that she’s never gonna be ready, and I love her so much, Doc,” he continues, each word spilling from him like water. He couldn’t stop the words from flowing, each one slipping free through the crevices of his cracked inner self. “I want to be her everything. I want to live inside of her and fix all of the broken pieces that I broke and every son of a bitch broke.. I’m so sorry,” he finally cries, breaking down after only one question. “I’m so sorry that I’ve hurt her.”
“And your atonement is this state of agony that you’re in right now?”
Elliot shook his head firmly. “I deserve it.”
The shrink just smiles. “We can’t fix the broken pieces in others before we fix the broken pieces within ourselves,” he says. “You said she wanted this, that she’s not ready,” he continues. “That doesn’t mean she’ll never be.”
Elliot wipes his eyes, the weight lessening a little bit at the shrinks words.
“How do I convince her that it can work out between us?” he asks, his voice softer than it’s ever been. That childlike version of himself slipping from beneath the cracks.
“You be there for her,” the shrink says. “You don’t expect anything,” the shrink continues. “In the Bible, Jesus forgives all sins and doesn’t expect anything in return. True atonement can only be received by doing the same. You do the work, you don’t expect anything, and one day she will be ready.”
Elliot nods, and begins to stand up. The room feels hot and heavy, and the urge to run is taking up residence in his mind.
“Sit,” the shrink says, which causes Elliot to immediately sit down. “Tell me about her. What’s her name?”
Elliot gulps, heart racing as he stares at the clock above the shrink’s head. “Liv — Captain Olivia Benson,” he says, finally, with his chest. “She’s smart, strong, compassionate,” he pauses, eyes glassy and whimsical. “She has brown eyes that stare at you like she can see everything wrong and right inside of you,” he continues. “She’s so — she’s so — beautiful. The most beautiful woman that I’ve ever seen. She’s loyal and she cares, more than anyone else.”
“This Liv sounds like a special person,” the shrink comments and scribbles, he is deeply deeply in love with her.
“She is special. How do I prove to her that I’ll never leave her again?”
The shrink just smiles. “How about you just meet with her for coffee every now and then and talk. Ask her about the things you missed out on, be there for her and this son you mentioned. Show her, don’t tell her.”
Elliot just nods, finally standing up. He feels the heaviness lift from his shoulders finally, before he leaves the room without a word. On his way to his car, he pulls out his phone and goes to his Favorites. He types ‘B’ slowly, carefully; his palms shaking as he presses the call symbol.
The phone rings, and each ring feels like an eternity. Each ring pierces some part of him before he hears the tell tale signs of her voice. “Hey,” he says, voice shrill and shaky. “It’s, um, me. Elliot.”
“Elliot,” she says, her voice just as shrill, just as nervous. “I wasn’t expecting your call. Why’d you call?”
Elliot decides to answer honestly. He decides that things can start; they both want this. They just have to be, with no expectations. “I just wanted to hear your voice,” he admits.
He hears her breathy sigh. “Oh,” comes out soft, surprised, unsettled. “Um, well, you’ve heard it.”
“I have,” he confirms. “I was wondering if you’d be up for coffee,” he begins. “Just you, just us.”
He hears her breath quicken on the other end, and can already hear the denial.
“With no strings,” he continues. “Not as a date, or anything. I just want to talk, to — to be. I want to be the person you’re ready for, but if not, I just want to be in your life.”
It takes her another long second. He hears shuffling on her end of the line, as if she’s frantically shuffling papers on her desk. He pictures her now, wide eyes shifting around all over the place as if desperately searching for an escape route. His first instinct is to reach through the phone and wrap his arms around her; to still her, to steady her, but instead, he pleads. Desperation leaks through his body, painting every crevice of his skin, as he acts with it and only it.
“Please, Liv,” he finds himself begging. He knows how desperate he sounds, and cringes to himself. “Please.”
He hears her intake a shaky breath. “Okay, she whispers. Meet me for coffee at my apartment tonight,” she says. “I’ll leave the sugar out.”
Internally, he squeals and does a few obnoxious cartwheels before he exits the lobby of his therapist’s office. She’s still on the line, so he carefully measures out his response to be respectful and patient. Internally, he wants to rip his skin off and grow new skin; that’s what she makes him feel. He feels alive, but weighted; like every cell has activated in his body and he can feel each cell, each atom, each molecular object move in tandem and it unnerves him.
She’d said she wanted him. She’d agreed to meet him for coffee, even after saying she’s not ready. And in order to prove to her that he wasn’t going anyone, he was going to be the man she always deserved.
“I’ll make sure to use a little extra, just for you,” he says, not intending for his words to come off as flirtatious. “I mean, if you want extra, I —”
Shit. He says to himself. I’m ruining this already.
His thoughts are cut off by her soft laughter on the other end of the line. The soft laughter that he hadn’t heard in ages, which drives him absolutely feral in the search of it once again. “You can give me a little, um, a little extra,” she whispers. “While we talk.”
He gulps at her tone. He steadies himself for his reply. “I’ll always give you whatever you want. You know that, Liv.”
Shit. Too intense, he thinks again.
“I know,” she says after a beat of silence. “So, um, tonight? Coffee?”
“Yeah,” he quickly agrees.
He hears her intake of breath again, and then a sigh. “Okay.”
After that, the she quickly says goodbye and ends the call. He heart racing at the thought of him calling her and saying all of those words that carried so much weight. Ever since their little moment in the kitchen and that night, she’d only been able to think about the way he felt. His cheek against her cheek, his soft lips pressed against her cheek. His strong body against her own, and how good it’d felt. She’d almost given in, and if he hadn’t called out her name, she knew that she would’ve dropped her clothes right in that very kitchen with her son just feet away.
But, he’d stopped her. He’d given her a moment to think, and that thought overtook everything else. Once thought seeped it’s way into her veins, then fear always followed. Fear and being alone was all she’d ever known.
Her mother lived alone, worked alone, and had few friends. When Olivia was growing up, she saw her grandparents every once and awhile until they died, but her mother had coveted Olivia like her most sacred gift but her most shameful secret. No one could see Olivia but her; no one could have Olivia but her, which left Olivia as a very lonely child seeking the affections of other lonely souls.
In school, she hardly had friends and when she did, she’d see their bright and full lives which filled her with resentment. She’d always wanted a big brood of kids and a husband and a yard just like Noah’s step brother’s parents. When she’d seen that, all she felt was more alone, especially since she saw her little boy’s eyes sparkle and it made her feel even more guilt.
This morning, he’d been bouncing with excitement after spending time with Elliot. He’d said Elliot could draw really pretty landscapes and buildings. He’d said Elliot wanted to be an architect at one point. He’d said Elliot was the coolest person he’d ever met, outside of her, and then he’d questioned her on why Elliot wasn’t around more. Now, Elliot would be in her apartment yet again and they’d be sharing coffee while the mere thought of being in his presence after what had happened made the hairs on her arms stand in anticipation.
So, she sat her in her office hoping that no one would question her. That was until Fin decided that it was the perfect time to open her door and step in. He stares at her for a moment before coming in, closing the door behind him with a smirk.
“Word on the street is that Stabler picked up your kid for you, brought him home,” Fin says, eyes on her but his unspoken message was clear.
Olivia gulps, unable to meet his eyes. “Yeah, he brought him back to my place for me. Met me there.”
Fin simply stares at her, as if saying, and?
“And nothing happened,” she says, suddenly finding the files on her desk extremely interesting all of a sudden.
“I know El left,” Fin begins, using his nickname to make a point. “But there’s no one that he cares about more than you, Liv. It ain’t my business, but you’re both getting older. We all are,” he says simply. “You know, I had a chance with Phoebe when we were younger.”
Olivia’s eyebrows lift. “Really?”
“Yeah, and then when she appeared again, I realized that I wanted to be with her. I went to her and asked her out and she turned me down at first, said she had someone and it was too late,” Fin admits, Olivia sits quietly as she takes in his words. “I thought, shit, this hurts. I fucked up my only chance with the only person I’ve ever loved. Don’t do that shit, Liv is what I’m saying,” he lets her sit with it before finishing. “Now, we’re together and I’ve never been happier. I have her and she has me and I’m still me.”
Before Olivia can respond, Fin stands and walks out of her office with a quickness. For her part, Olivia is left with Fin’s words settled into her mind. I fucked up my only chance with the only person I’ve ever loved. That’s what she feels like now, and felt then when she leaned into the refrigerator. She’d felt as though she’d fucked things up. She’d hated herself for how much she wanted to climb inside of him and make a nest inside of his heart where she’d always be safe, where she’d always be okay.
Her mind and heart felt at war with one another, and sometimes, her heart won out. She’d find herself thinking about a white dress and courthouse steps and bright blue eyes staring intensely at her as she said ‘I Do.’ She’d think about summer vacations at Bernie’s beachhouse with the Stablers and her son. She’d think about big Christmas parties with his grandchildren.
She’d think about waking up and turning around in his big, strong arms; always knowing that she’d be safe. She’d think about the simplicity of sleeping through the night instead of waking up sweaty at 4 A.M. wondering what’s missing in her life. She’d think about kissing his soft lips, of him taking her that night against the fridge; his breath hot against her cheek as he pushed himself inside of her relentlessly. She just knew that he fucked like he’d imprint himself on her very soul; he’d be so good that she’d want him all the time, that she’d be changed forever. She remembers it now, how he’d told her to look at him, how she couldn’t because if she did, she wouldn’t be able to stop.
All those images filled her for the rest of the day until she got off of work and made the trip back to her apartment. As she opened the door and set her bags down on the couch, she sighed. She heard him there, already, shuffling around in her kitchen as he made them both a cup of coffee.
“Hey,” she called out timdly, her voice unlike that of Captain Benson. In here with him, she was just Liv. “I’m home.”
She walked over to the kitchen after dropping her coat on the couch and sat on the stool that she’d sat on the very last time that he was here. She felt the deja vu of the moment settle on her in waves, as the rush of feelings came back just from being in proximity to him.
His back was to her, as he turned around to face her. “Hey, Liv.”
He took a steadying breath and set her cup on the counter before he found a seat and sat across from her. For a moment, they both stared at one another not saying anything. The energy between them felt akin to the energy of the sky during a severe thunderstorm. The electricity in the air tingling and sparkly, as if in any moment, another blast of thunder would sound out. They both looked at one another for a moment, and away for a moment, and at each other for a moment, then away. They danced around one another like scared little lambs, unable to meet the eyes of the other who could destroy them in just one moment.
“I — I wanna know what I missed,” Elliot begins, slowly and softly. “Start with the good stuff.”
He hands her her mug and watches her drink, as her eyes dart around the room before answering. “I’m a Captain now, got promoted a few times and Noah,” she pauses with a soft smile. “He’s adopted, I got him when he was just a baby.”
Her words are vague and Elliot knows there’s more, but he doesn’t push her to reveal more. Instead, he opts for lightness and decides to reveal things of his own. “Your son is wonderful, Liv. He wouldn’t stop talking about how much he missed you. Those people may have a fancy house, but your boy isn’t missing out on anything.”
Olivia’s heart stutters and literally skips a beat in her chest at his words. She flushes, unable to speak at his compliment. For the longest time, that’s all she ever wanted to hear from him and hearing it now felt like a fever dream that she never wanted to wake from. Her eyes land on his and the energy between them only thickens into something more.
“Thank you, Elliot,” she whispers. “When we were partners, I thought you were the best dad. I’d think of you when raising Noah.”
His eyes soften as the compliment washes over him. “You did it all on your own, though,” he says. “What else have I missed?”
“You missed — you missed a lot of bad things,” she says, barely able to make eye contact with him now. “It’s — it’s hard for me to think about how much I wanted you to protect me and that’s why — that’s why it’s still hard for me, because I know you would if I asked. When I — when I needed you the most — I don’t want to talk about this right now, let’s talk about something else.”
Elliot simply nods, moving towards her and removing the cup from her hands. He cups her face softly in his hands before whispering. “I’ll never leave you again, Liv. I promise. And I’ll wait for you as long as it takes, to give you everything I have when you’re ready for it. Will you be ready for me one day?”
Olivia’s eyes glisten with tears and one of those tears falls down her cheek. She reaches up to cup his hand in hers as she thinks about all of the parallel universes and endless possibilities. She sees herself with a smile on her face; she feels the safety of his arms. For a moment, she allows the fear to cede and the hope to wash over her. “One day, I will be ready.”
One day.