Someone Like You 50/61: Reflection - Beecher/Stabler
Someone Like You
by Dr Squidlove
drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
Oz/Law & Order: SVU crossover
Tobias Beecher's trying to rebuild his family in the shadow of the man he was in prison. Elliot Stabler's struggling to continue in the wake of divorce while his job eats away at his soul. It makes for an odd friendship, but it works.
Rated R for violence and explicit references to sexual violence.
Wordcount this post: 2228
Full headers are on chapter 1.
Oz is the property of Tom Fontana and HBO. Law & Order: SVU is the property of Dick Wolf and NBC. The characters are used without permission, but with much appreciation.
Someone Like You
chapter 50: Reflection
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 49, Family night:
Maureen decided it was time for Elliot to break the Toby news to the rest of the kids, and, unable to bring himself to escape out a window, Elliot did just that. Nobody responded well, but nobody escaped out the window, either. At least Maureen was firmly in Toby's corner.
After an evening chaperoned by Holly, Toby and Elliot got to flop on the bed in privacy. Toby was booking Thanksgiving in Vermont with his kids and working on a health-based approach to Holly's nicotine habit. Elliot decided to be okay with having sex while Holly was home, but remained not okay with ass sex, ever.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Elliot shoved the scumbag into the wall again, this fucking piece of shit that could beat the hell out of drunk college girls but he cowered when a bigger man got in his face, why don't you try your twisted games on me you little fucking prick, gonna put you in prison 'til you fucking rot...
"Elliot!" A voice in the distance.
Snapping his teeth in the dirtbag's face, crowding him in. Show me what a big man you are, Weber, you inadequate prick, hit me, go on, take a free shot-
"Elliot!"
Pulling hands, pulling him back. He wasn't done, wasn't finished until this insect was crying like the girls he destroyed.
"Detective Stabler!"
Elliot's head turned, and through the parting fog he realised it wasn't the first time the captain had called his name. Finn and Cragen were pressed against him, blocking his way. Finn didn't know Elliot liked men pressed against him, these days.
"Elliot, get the hell out here!"
Elliot looked back at Weber, clinging to the wall behind Olivia, white-faced and chanting, "Want a lawyer, want a lawyer, want a lawyer," like a mantra.
Fuck.
Elliot stumbled out of the interview room. Fuck.
People staring, Novak and Huang and Elliot didn't know who the other one was. Rage was roaring in his ears, charging in his veins, driving him to storm back in there and teach Weber a lesson, and Elliot couldn't catch his breath.
"-the hell was that, Elliot? You had him in the palm of your hand! We haven't got a damn thing without a confession and you-" The captain's words were running together, and Elliot wanted him to shut the hell up, stop babbling.
"It was no good," Elliot snapped, and there was sudden, blessed quiet, and Elliot had to go.
Through the pen, refuge in the men's bathroom, empty except for the chemical stink of industrial cleaners. He leaned on the sink and gasped for breath, locked his eyes on the drain and tried to shove it down, couldn't do it. He wanted to smash his fist into the mirror, feel the blunt thud and then the sharp relief of split skin. He wanted to break his knuckles on Weber's face, give him a taste of how it felt for the girls he disfigured. He lifted his head and Chris Keller stared back from the mirror, hateful and dangerous. That was the face Toby loved. If Elliot tipped over the edge, let his inner monster loose, would Toby love him then?
You'll always be the substitute, said the face in the mirror. You think he'll ever look at you and not remember how much he loved me?
You're a fucking murderer.
I killed for Toby, and he loved it.
Elliot screwed his eyes shut.
He won't admit it, but he loved it. Maybe he's waiting for that same killer in you.
"Elliot?"
He gripped the sink. "You saw the sign on the door, right, Liv?"
"Yeah, I learned to read when I was four. Talk to me."
Elliot took a long breath, let it out.
I'm tired of being a monster.
He shook his head.
She came closer, stopped a couple of feet away. "Last night's victim... She looks like Kathleen."
He knew Olivia had seen his reaction when they walked into the hospital room. A pretty blonde freshman who'd been out making the most of her new fake ID when Weber seduced her, now with two black eyes and still afraid her father would blow his top when he heard about the drinking and how she'd been dressed.
Olivia asked, "Is that what got to you?"
Would Kathleen be afraid to call him if someone hurt her?
Yes, it got to him, but not in the way Olivia thought. That was just what set him off, what gave him the excuse to let out his inner Chris Keller. When they'd collared Weber, Elliot had hungered to get to the interrogation. He couldn't wait to scare the shit out of the little smart ass. He loved doing it.
Elliot opened his eyes and met his reflection, and he was disgusted. He was violent. Manipulative. Tainted. Every muscle in his body was locked, shaking with the strain. If Olivia wasn't here, he would have put his fist right through that face. "I need to get out of here."
"Do you want me to drive you to Toby's?"
"No." That was the last place he wanted to be right now. The last place after here, anyway. He didn't want to go home to his empty apartment and his twisted, ugly thoughts. Didn't want to go near his kids. Didn't want to be anywhere near himself.
The pressure was building.
"I need to get out of here."
"You don't just mean right now, do you?"
He jerked around, turned his back on the mirror, bent forward. "I can't do it anymore, Liv. I can't. This job. I can't live inside their heads anymore." He pressed his palms to his eyes until he saw lights.
"El..." He stayed where he was but he knew exactly the wide-eyed look on her face as she struggled for an answer. She couldn't tell him it wasn't that bad, that he could handle it, that he just had to get through. She knew better. "Why don't you take a few days off?"
"That's not going to-"
"I know. Believe me, I know." Of course she did. "I just don't want you making a decision like that right now. Take a few days, see your kids, talk to Toby."
He couldn't talk to Toby.
"And then whatever you decide, I've got your back."
His throat closed up.
"I'll go explain to Cragen."
"No." He wasn't sneaking out of here like a fuck-up. "No, I'll talk to him."
He'd face the captain, and then he was going to drive out to Queens to see his counsellor. That was the adult thing to do, right?
Elliot kept his eyes averted as he turned back to the sink and splashed water over his face, around behind his neck. Focused on the chill, wrapped on the old mask of control. He could fake this for five minutes. He had to, because if he lost it in Cragen's office now he'd be lucky to stay on as a traffic cop.
Olivia followed him out and stayed by his side as they crossed the pen, until he reached over and waved her back. He let himself into the captain's office, and knew she was right outside.
Cragen came in right after him, circled his desk and regarded him for a long time, struggling to decide whether to play hard-ass boss or understanding mentor.
"I'm sorry, Captain. I was out of control. I think... I think I should take a few days. Get my head on straight."
A slow nod. "I was going to say the same thing. We've run this scene before, Elliot. You get out of control; I rein you in, we both say never again. It has to stop."
Elliot stared at the desk.
"You've been working this beat for fourteen years. That's an awfully long time."
Elliot looked up. Was Cragen saying what Elliot thought he was saying?
"Is there anything I should know?"
"No."
"I don't want to see you again until Monday." Elliot nodded. "When was the last time you had a vacation?"
Elliot shuffled through his memory. Pete Breslin's son, must have been a year ago now, Cragen ordering him out. Seeing Pete beat his son and that wave of rage, until the police pulled Elliot off his bloodied friend. "I took a few days back-"
"I'm not talking about using your vacation days. I'm talking about taking a vacation. Going somewhere with your kids, having a weekend away with your- With your friend. Enjoying your life."
Elliot stared at the floor. He couldn't have guessed.
"Take your few days, sort yourself out. When you come back, we're going to talk about scheduling some vacation time. For everybody's sanity."
Vacation. Not a transfer. Elliot didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed, but Cragen seemed to be done, so he headed for the door.
"Elliot."
He turned back.
"Leave your gun and badge."
Elliot took them out, laid them on the desk.
"If you want to leave your other piece, I'll lock it up for you."
Elliot's head jerked up, and he realised there was something more than the usual concern on the Captain's face. He thought Elliot might eat his gun. Christ. He wasn't there yet. But he couldn't bring himself to say so aloud, to admit that it had crossed either of their minds. He reached down for his ankle piece and added it to the pile.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Toby stared in surprise at Elliot, striding across the park towards him. Elliot had never stopped by work before. He didn't look like he was here to be sociable.
He settled next to Toby on the bench, pulling his coat tighter. "It's a little chilly for a picnic, isn't it?"
"I've got my scarf." Winter was going to chase Toby back inside eventually, but he was going to hold on to his outdoors lunches for as long as he could. He offered his thermos to Elliot. "Soup? It's chicken and vegetable."
"No. Thanks."
There had to be something going on to drag Elliot out to Brooklyn in the middle of the day, but Toby hadn't gauged whether he wanted to be pushed or not. He screwed the lid back on his soup, put it aside. "When I first got out, I spent every second I could outside. Rain, snow, storms, didn't matter. I wanted all of it. Mother was worried I was going crazy." Elliot could be nudged around the edges, maybe. "I didn't expect you to be free today. Did you wrap up that case last night?"
A guilty shift piqued Toby's curiosity. "I wasn't working last night."
But that was exactly what Elliot had said was going on when he cancelled. Toby had been disappointed at losing a night to themselves, and Elliot had said something about an important lead, and he'd rushed to get off the phone. "Are you going to lie to me every time you have a bad day, Elliot?"
Elliot's jaw worked, but he didn't answer. At least that was honest. He took a deep breath, let it out. "I'm taking a few days off work."
The desolate tone dissolved Toby's irritation. "What happened?"
Elliot stared off at the traffic across the park.
"Elliot?"
It looked like he was chewing out the words. "I screwed up."
"Are you in trouble?"
Elliot shook his head, and Toby couldn't tell how much that was a 'no', how much it was blowing off the question. "I screwed up an interrogation yesterday, let it get out of hand."
"What does that mean?" Did he beat the guy? Was he facing assault charges?
"I think if I hadn't asked for the days, Cragen would have shoved me out the door."
And Elliot left it until today, huddled on a bench in the park, to tell him all this? Where the hell had he been the last twenty-four hours? "How bad is it? Is your job on the line?"
Elliot took an uncomfortably long time to consider that. Toby wanted to touch him, rub his back or squeeze his hand, show Elliot he'd be there either way, but they were on a park bench during lunch hour, and even in early November, that didn't count as private.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring down at the ground. "It's fine. I just needed to get out of there. Clear my head."
"And is it?"
Elliot looked at him, questioning.
"Clearing? Or is your head just spinning in circles, dragging you deeper?"
Elliot looked away.
Toby wished he could shake the words out of him. Elliot hated talking about the job, but he'd been starting to trust Toby with his anger. "Do you know what set you off?"
Elliot shook his head. He knew.
Toby huffed. "Why did you come here, if you didn't want to talk to me?"
"I do," he growled, but nothing followed.
"Have you talked to Olivia about it?"
It didn't take a psychic connection to read that grimace. Elliot wasn't going to talk to anyone, was just going to stew.
"Things don't just magically get better, Elliot."
"I know." Elliot's phone rang, and he grasped for it like he was grateful for the interruption. So much for taking a few days off. "Stabler." He sat straighter. "Captain?" The colour washed out of his face and he was on his feet. "I'm on my way." He shoved the phone away. "Olivia's been in an accident. She's on her way to Mercy General."
"Is she all right?" Of course she wasn't. Toby stood up. "I'll come with you." It was a ludicrous offer; he realised as soon as the words escaped. What was he going to do, pretend to be Olivia's cousin?
"No, you stay. I'll call you."
He headed for his car at a run, and Toby was left, useless, on the bench. It was only as the car pulled away that Toby realised that when Elliot parted his jacket for his phone, there'd been no gold badge on his belt.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
end chapter 50
Feedback is a thoroughly renewable energy source with no harmful emissions. Concrit thoroughly welcome, warm fuzzies treasured. Here or at drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
The complete works of Dr Squidlove can be found at http://members.iinet.net.au/~tentacles/squidfic.html
S.
by Dr Squidlove
drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
Oz/Law & Order: SVU crossover
Tobias Beecher's trying to rebuild his family in the shadow of the man he was in prison. Elliot Stabler's struggling to continue in the wake of divorce while his job eats away at his soul. It makes for an odd friendship, but it works.
Rated R for violence and explicit references to sexual violence.
Wordcount this post: 2228
Full headers are on chapter 1.
Oz is the property of Tom Fontana and HBO. Law & Order: SVU is the property of Dick Wolf and NBC. The characters are used without permission, but with much appreciation.
Someone Like You
chapter 50: Reflection
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 49, Family night:
Maureen decided it was time for Elliot to break the Toby news to the rest of the kids, and, unable to bring himself to escape out a window, Elliot did just that. Nobody responded well, but nobody escaped out the window, either. At least Maureen was firmly in Toby's corner.
After an evening chaperoned by Holly, Toby and Elliot got to flop on the bed in privacy. Toby was booking Thanksgiving in Vermont with his kids and working on a health-based approach to Holly's nicotine habit. Elliot decided to be okay with having sex while Holly was home, but remained not okay with ass sex, ever.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Elliot shoved the scumbag into the wall again, this fucking piece of shit that could beat the hell out of drunk college girls but he cowered when a bigger man got in his face, why don't you try your twisted games on me you little fucking prick, gonna put you in prison 'til you fucking rot...
"Elliot!" A voice in the distance.
Snapping his teeth in the dirtbag's face, crowding him in. Show me what a big man you are, Weber, you inadequate prick, hit me, go on, take a free shot-
"Elliot!"
Pulling hands, pulling him back. He wasn't done, wasn't finished until this insect was crying like the girls he destroyed.
"Detective Stabler!"
Elliot's head turned, and through the parting fog he realised it wasn't the first time the captain had called his name. Finn and Cragen were pressed against him, blocking his way. Finn didn't know Elliot liked men pressed against him, these days.
"Elliot, get the hell out here!"
Elliot looked back at Weber, clinging to the wall behind Olivia, white-faced and chanting, "Want a lawyer, want a lawyer, want a lawyer," like a mantra.
Fuck.
Elliot stumbled out of the interview room. Fuck.
People staring, Novak and Huang and Elliot didn't know who the other one was. Rage was roaring in his ears, charging in his veins, driving him to storm back in there and teach Weber a lesson, and Elliot couldn't catch his breath.
"-the hell was that, Elliot? You had him in the palm of your hand! We haven't got a damn thing without a confession and you-" The captain's words were running together, and Elliot wanted him to shut the hell up, stop babbling.
"It was no good," Elliot snapped, and there was sudden, blessed quiet, and Elliot had to go.
Through the pen, refuge in the men's bathroom, empty except for the chemical stink of industrial cleaners. He leaned on the sink and gasped for breath, locked his eyes on the drain and tried to shove it down, couldn't do it. He wanted to smash his fist into the mirror, feel the blunt thud and then the sharp relief of split skin. He wanted to break his knuckles on Weber's face, give him a taste of how it felt for the girls he disfigured. He lifted his head and Chris Keller stared back from the mirror, hateful and dangerous. That was the face Toby loved. If Elliot tipped over the edge, let his inner monster loose, would Toby love him then?
You'll always be the substitute, said the face in the mirror. You think he'll ever look at you and not remember how much he loved me?
You're a fucking murderer.
I killed for Toby, and he loved it.
Elliot screwed his eyes shut.
He won't admit it, but he loved it. Maybe he's waiting for that same killer in you.
"Elliot?"
He gripped the sink. "You saw the sign on the door, right, Liv?"
"Yeah, I learned to read when I was four. Talk to me."
Elliot took a long breath, let it out.
I'm tired of being a monster.
He shook his head.
She came closer, stopped a couple of feet away. "Last night's victim... She looks like Kathleen."
He knew Olivia had seen his reaction when they walked into the hospital room. A pretty blonde freshman who'd been out making the most of her new fake ID when Weber seduced her, now with two black eyes and still afraid her father would blow his top when he heard about the drinking and how she'd been dressed.
Olivia asked, "Is that what got to you?"
Would Kathleen be afraid to call him if someone hurt her?
Yes, it got to him, but not in the way Olivia thought. That was just what set him off, what gave him the excuse to let out his inner Chris Keller. When they'd collared Weber, Elliot had hungered to get to the interrogation. He couldn't wait to scare the shit out of the little smart ass. He loved doing it.
Elliot opened his eyes and met his reflection, and he was disgusted. He was violent. Manipulative. Tainted. Every muscle in his body was locked, shaking with the strain. If Olivia wasn't here, he would have put his fist right through that face. "I need to get out of here."
"Do you want me to drive you to Toby's?"
"No." That was the last place he wanted to be right now. The last place after here, anyway. He didn't want to go home to his empty apartment and his twisted, ugly thoughts. Didn't want to go near his kids. Didn't want to be anywhere near himself.
The pressure was building.
"I need to get out of here."
"You don't just mean right now, do you?"
He jerked around, turned his back on the mirror, bent forward. "I can't do it anymore, Liv. I can't. This job. I can't live inside their heads anymore." He pressed his palms to his eyes until he saw lights.
"El..." He stayed where he was but he knew exactly the wide-eyed look on her face as she struggled for an answer. She couldn't tell him it wasn't that bad, that he could handle it, that he just had to get through. She knew better. "Why don't you take a few days off?"
"That's not going to-"
"I know. Believe me, I know." Of course she did. "I just don't want you making a decision like that right now. Take a few days, see your kids, talk to Toby."
He couldn't talk to Toby.
"And then whatever you decide, I've got your back."
His throat closed up.
"I'll go explain to Cragen."
"No." He wasn't sneaking out of here like a fuck-up. "No, I'll talk to him."
He'd face the captain, and then he was going to drive out to Queens to see his counsellor. That was the adult thing to do, right?
Elliot kept his eyes averted as he turned back to the sink and splashed water over his face, around behind his neck. Focused on the chill, wrapped on the old mask of control. He could fake this for five minutes. He had to, because if he lost it in Cragen's office now he'd be lucky to stay on as a traffic cop.
Olivia followed him out and stayed by his side as they crossed the pen, until he reached over and waved her back. He let himself into the captain's office, and knew she was right outside.
Cragen came in right after him, circled his desk and regarded him for a long time, struggling to decide whether to play hard-ass boss or understanding mentor.
"I'm sorry, Captain. I was out of control. I think... I think I should take a few days. Get my head on straight."
A slow nod. "I was going to say the same thing. We've run this scene before, Elliot. You get out of control; I rein you in, we both say never again. It has to stop."
Elliot stared at the desk.
"You've been working this beat for fourteen years. That's an awfully long time."
Elliot looked up. Was Cragen saying what Elliot thought he was saying?
"Is there anything I should know?"
"No."
"I don't want to see you again until Monday." Elliot nodded. "When was the last time you had a vacation?"
Elliot shuffled through his memory. Pete Breslin's son, must have been a year ago now, Cragen ordering him out. Seeing Pete beat his son and that wave of rage, until the police pulled Elliot off his bloodied friend. "I took a few days back-"
"I'm not talking about using your vacation days. I'm talking about taking a vacation. Going somewhere with your kids, having a weekend away with your- With your friend. Enjoying your life."
Elliot stared at the floor. He couldn't have guessed.
"Take your few days, sort yourself out. When you come back, we're going to talk about scheduling some vacation time. For everybody's sanity."
Vacation. Not a transfer. Elliot didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed, but Cragen seemed to be done, so he headed for the door.
"Elliot."
He turned back.
"Leave your gun and badge."
Elliot took them out, laid them on the desk.
"If you want to leave your other piece, I'll lock it up for you."
Elliot's head jerked up, and he realised there was something more than the usual concern on the Captain's face. He thought Elliot might eat his gun. Christ. He wasn't there yet. But he couldn't bring himself to say so aloud, to admit that it had crossed either of their minds. He reached down for his ankle piece and added it to the pile.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Toby stared in surprise at Elliot, striding across the park towards him. Elliot had never stopped by work before. He didn't look like he was here to be sociable.
He settled next to Toby on the bench, pulling his coat tighter. "It's a little chilly for a picnic, isn't it?"
"I've got my scarf." Winter was going to chase Toby back inside eventually, but he was going to hold on to his outdoors lunches for as long as he could. He offered his thermos to Elliot. "Soup? It's chicken and vegetable."
"No. Thanks."
There had to be something going on to drag Elliot out to Brooklyn in the middle of the day, but Toby hadn't gauged whether he wanted to be pushed or not. He screwed the lid back on his soup, put it aside. "When I first got out, I spent every second I could outside. Rain, snow, storms, didn't matter. I wanted all of it. Mother was worried I was going crazy." Elliot could be nudged around the edges, maybe. "I didn't expect you to be free today. Did you wrap up that case last night?"
A guilty shift piqued Toby's curiosity. "I wasn't working last night."
But that was exactly what Elliot had said was going on when he cancelled. Toby had been disappointed at losing a night to themselves, and Elliot had said something about an important lead, and he'd rushed to get off the phone. "Are you going to lie to me every time you have a bad day, Elliot?"
Elliot's jaw worked, but he didn't answer. At least that was honest. He took a deep breath, let it out. "I'm taking a few days off work."
The desolate tone dissolved Toby's irritation. "What happened?"
Elliot stared off at the traffic across the park.
"Elliot?"
It looked like he was chewing out the words. "I screwed up."
"Are you in trouble?"
Elliot shook his head, and Toby couldn't tell how much that was a 'no', how much it was blowing off the question. "I screwed up an interrogation yesterday, let it get out of hand."
"What does that mean?" Did he beat the guy? Was he facing assault charges?
"I think if I hadn't asked for the days, Cragen would have shoved me out the door."
And Elliot left it until today, huddled on a bench in the park, to tell him all this? Where the hell had he been the last twenty-four hours? "How bad is it? Is your job on the line?"
Elliot took an uncomfortably long time to consider that. Toby wanted to touch him, rub his back or squeeze his hand, show Elliot he'd be there either way, but they were on a park bench during lunch hour, and even in early November, that didn't count as private.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring down at the ground. "It's fine. I just needed to get out of there. Clear my head."
"And is it?"
Elliot looked at him, questioning.
"Clearing? Or is your head just spinning in circles, dragging you deeper?"
Elliot looked away.
Toby wished he could shake the words out of him. Elliot hated talking about the job, but he'd been starting to trust Toby with his anger. "Do you know what set you off?"
Elliot shook his head. He knew.
Toby huffed. "Why did you come here, if you didn't want to talk to me?"
"I do," he growled, but nothing followed.
"Have you talked to Olivia about it?"
It didn't take a psychic connection to read that grimace. Elliot wasn't going to talk to anyone, was just going to stew.
"Things don't just magically get better, Elliot."
"I know." Elliot's phone rang, and he grasped for it like he was grateful for the interruption. So much for taking a few days off. "Stabler." He sat straighter. "Captain?" The colour washed out of his face and he was on his feet. "I'm on my way." He shoved the phone away. "Olivia's been in an accident. She's on her way to Mercy General."
"Is she all right?" Of course she wasn't. Toby stood up. "I'll come with you." It was a ludicrous offer; he realised as soon as the words escaped. What was he going to do, pretend to be Olivia's cousin?
"No, you stay. I'll call you."
He headed for his car at a run, and Toby was left, useless, on the bench. It was only as the car pulled away that Toby realised that when Elliot parted his jacket for his phone, there'd been no gold badge on his belt.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
end chapter 50
Feedback is a thoroughly renewable energy source with no harmful emissions. Concrit thoroughly welcome, warm fuzzies treasured. Here or at drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
The complete works of Dr Squidlove can be found at http://members.iinet.net.au/~tentacles/squidfic.html
S.