Someone Like You 51/61: Waiting - 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: 2712
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 51: Waiting
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 50, Reflection:
Elliot's job of intimidating a college rapist got an eensy bit out of control. After being dragged off by Cragen and Finn, Elliot stumbled off the bathroom to stare at the reflection of a monster. Chris Keller was too fucking close, and the job was dragging Elliot ever-closer. Olivia calmed him enough to go tell Cragen he had to get out for a few days. Cragen suggested he leave his badge and guns behind.
It took a full day before Elliot went to (sort of) tell Toby about it, but he was interrupted by news that Olivia was headed to hospital.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The elevator let Toby out into a long white corridor of an alien world. Gridded whiteboards filled with long words, futuristic machines on trundle wheels, hushed footsteps, hushed voices, hushed lights. Someone was moaning in one of the darkened rooms. The young nurse muttered about visiting hours, until Toby explained that he was here for the guy they couldn't kick out. She pointed him along to the fourth door on the right. He'd waited until late to come, to be sure no one else would be around.
Toby lingered in the doorway, watching Elliot watch Olivia. He was hunched in a chair by the wide bed, hands tucked in his lap, lit by the light pooling from the open bathroom door. His usual bulk had faded into the room, leaving him small.
Olivia was lying stiff and straight, head sickly pale and swathed in bandages, a cobweb of wires tying her to machines of bouncing LEDs and bags of fluids.
Toby said "Elliot," softly as he came in, and Elliot's head turned in a daze.
"Toby. What are you doing here?" Elliot's tone was hushed, too. Hospital voices.
"Didn't know if you'd eat out of the vending machines or not at all, wasn't sure which was worse." He held up a take-out container, a thermos of decent coffee balanced on top. "Holly and I cooked a stir-fry. It's Mongolian lamb. It's good."
"You've got Holly at home? You should go."
"She's okay. We've got time." Toby pulled the bed's swing table close to Elliot.
Elliot frowned, irritated, like Toby was breaking his concentration on wishing Olivia well. "I'm not hungry."
Maybe it wasn't just Holly that made Elliot want Toby gone. "How does it help Olivia if you don't take care of yourself?" Toby peeled the lid off the stir fry, pressed the fork into Elliot's hand. "I know you don't care if you eat, but I do, so how about you do it just to keep me happy?"
"Toby, I'm not-"
"If you let me bully you into taking care of yourself, you'll have that much more right to bully her when she wakes up."
Elliot finally met his gaze, just a hint of frustration and a wry smile. "She has no one else to be here."
"She has you." Elliot didn't need to explain. Toby didn't want to be the sole, obsessive focus of Elliot's life. "I wasn't going to try to drag you out. Just make you eat." Toby waited pointedly for Elliot to put a fork full of dinner in his mouth, before he looked down at Olivia. "Is there any news?" Elliot had called at six to say she was out of surgery for an acute epidural hematoma. Some peeping tom had knocked her down a flight of stairs, boosting himself from a misdemeanour to a Class B felony and probably a beating from the squad.
And now Olivia was bound up in tubes and wires, and Elliot looked like he'd lost his best friend.
"The doctor said they got it early, but she hasn't woken up yet." He took a few more bites of food, sipped his coffee. "Munch said after it happened she seemed fine. She was trying to blow it off, insisted she only blacked out for a few seconds. Cragen had to order her into the care of the paramedics. She lost consciousness on her way to hospital."
Toby hovered near the foot of the bed, feeling out of place. He wished there was another chair. He wished there was something he could do, other than fuss at Elliot.
He wished he could finish the conversation from lunch. He was worried for Olivia and worried for Elliot worrying about Olivia but Toby still wanted to know what the hell had gotten Elliot into trouble. Did Elliot think Toby would be shocked at a cop beating a suspect? Did he think Toby would side with the con? After all the skeletons Toby had laid at Elliot's feet, did he think Toby would judge him? Toby had worked hard to regain Elliot's trust, but maybe he hadn't. Elliot cared about him but he didn't trust him with his job or his kids. Toby knew how that went.
"I'm supposed to be the one who gets hurt."
"She'd probably agree." Even as a grim joke, it turned Toby's stomach. He didn't know how he'd handle Elliot looking like that.
Toby stared at Olivia as Elliot ploughed through his dinner. She would have been the same old Olivia this morning, dressed with style, every hair in place, probably worrying about Elliot and his mandatory time off. Now this. A fragile thing in a hospital gown, half her hair and all of her dignity left on the floor of the operating room.
Elliot looked surprised when he realised his dinner was gone. "Thanks. I guess I needed that." He was looking more human, thank god. Toby couldn't do anything for Olivia, but he could take care of Elliot. She'd appreciate that.
"Have you been to the bathroom since you got here?"
"Am I five?"
"Have you been lately?"
The confused look was enough.
"Get out of here for five minutes. Go to the toilet, stretch your legs, breathe some New York exhaust."
"I'm not-"
Toby stepped close and chanced a hand on the back of Elliot's neck. "I'll stay with Olivia. Trust me, just a walk around the ward is going to make you feel stronger."
"All right." Elliot pushed himself to his feet like an old man, and immediately pulled Toby into a hug.
Toby had held back, unsure if Elliot wanted the comfort, if this place was private enough, but now he held on as tight as he could. He didn't have any comforting words so he just rubbed Elliot's back, pressed his lips to the sliver of skin behind Elliot's ear. Elliot's skin was warm and his grip was strong and his breath was unsteady but it was his. Toby realised he knew exactly what was going through Elliot's head. "There's no way you being there would have stopped this."
Elliot just held on, so Toby left it at that. Maybe if Elliot had been there, he'd be the one in the bed.
"Thank you." Rasped out as Elliot pulled away, keeping his face averted. "I won't be long. Call me if..." He slouched out of the room.
Toby wanted to chase after him.
He looked around, feeling how much he didn't belong. He settled in the chair still warm from Elliot's weight and tidied the take-out container into his bag and stared at the bruise-eyed woman in the bed just as Elliot had for the last six hours.
He'd spent half his evening researching epidural hematomas on the computer, but the internet had been impossibly vague on prognosis. Everything depended on something else. Surgery had gone well, but there was no telling with a head injury. It might be months before she was back to normal, or years. She might never go back to the force. She might wake up like Cyril O'Reilly, all that piercing intelligence wiped away, a child in its wake. And then what? She didn't have a brother to take care of her.
Toby knew all this was swirling around Elliot's head along with a good dose of guilt for not being by her side, and there was nothing they could do but wait.
This was the job they did. It could have been Elliot in that bed. Injured and facing an uncertain future, surrounded by terrified kids. Toby had to drag in his next breath. Would he even be welcome? He'd be the last to know, an afterthought when Olivia had a moment to spare. Maybe it would be just like this, sneaking into the ward in the dead of night so no one would know he was here.
A clearing throat roused him, and Toby stood automatically when he saw an bald, dough-faced cop in a suit and tie in the doorway. It took a second to place him, standing open-mouthed beside Olivia outside Franco's. Elliot's captain.
This was exactly what Toby had tried to avoid. Elliot was going to kill him. Toby prayed the captain didn't recognise him from that night. Sure. As if seeing his straight senior detective tending some cross dressing freak at a crime scene wouldn't stand out in his memory. Maybe Toby's flaming cheeks would disguise him long enough to make an escape. He stood up. "Hi."
"Hi. I'm Donald Cragen." He offered his hand but before Toby could fumble out an explanation, he said, "You must be Tobias."
Toby blinked. "I, uh, yes. I didn't expect..." Had Olivia told the captain his name? Olivia didn't call him Tobias. Neither did Elliot.
Cragen gave him a firm handshake. "He didn't tell you he gave me your name?"
"Today?"
"No..." Cragen looked flustered. "He asked me to make you his emergency contact. Off the record. He didn't tell you?"
"Uh, no." Really? Elliot did that? "He'll be back in a minute. He's just getting some air." Elliot had never mentioned telling anyone at work other than Olivia. Toby would have guessed Cragen would be the last on Elliot's list of confidantes. Elliot made Toby his next of kin?
Cragen walked up the other side of the bed to take a better look at Olivia, and Toby could see the air let out of him. Elliot had said he was the one who ordered her to get checked out; he probably saved her life. Cragen looked across the bed. "How's he doing?"
Toby shrugged. He was sure Cragen knew how Elliot took things. "He wishes he was the one in the bed."
"That much I could have guessed."
Toby sat down. It felt slightly surreal, being here in the dim night-lighting, making conversation with Elliot's boss. Elliot's boss, who'd seen Toby in bad drag in the meatpacking district, and yet Elliot had trusted him with Toby's details. He wondered how that conversation had gone, tried to imagine privacy-hoarding Detective Stabler explaining to his captain that the slut in the red dress was his homosexual lover.
Toby wasn't going to look the captain in the eye again. But Elliot had done it, and Toby wanted to kiss him for it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Toby was right. Elliot had needed to get out of that room. He pulled his coat tight as he stared out over the lights of the skyline, watching the crawl of headlights up Seventh Avenue from the hospital roof. He took deep lungfuls of the crisp night air, revived by the cold pressing his cheeks and reaching down his collar.
Olivia had to be okay. The job was everything to her, even more than for Elliot. She was the most fiercely independent person Elliot knew, and losing that, even for a while... He couldn't imagine her like that.
If Olivia was out of it, Elliot's decision whether to stay at SVU was going to be easy.
Something like terror bubbled in Elliot's gut. He was really thinking about this. He was standing on a precipice, and on one side was more of the same, endless frustration and rage until Toby left, just like Kathy, and on the other side was a yawning black void. What could he do if he didn't work SVU? Homicide? It didn't seem much better. White collar? No way. Vice, busting the women he'd spent fifteen years trying to protect? No way in hell. Maybe it was time to go into private security. The boredom would kill him. And how could he walk away from the Hollys of the world? The Tobys?
Thank god for Toby. Elliot wondered if he had any idea how much it meant that he'd come. With a coffee and a home-made dinner, and light chatter like seeing Olivia in that bed wasn't terrifying. Elliot needed to talk to him almost as much as he needed Liv to wake up. He'd been an idiot to think he couldn't. He had to tell Toby what the job was doing to him, what the shadow of Chris Keller was doing to him. Toby was right: his head was spinning in circles, and it was going to keep doing that until he trusted that Toby had... maybe not magic words, but at least some idea where north was. He didn't need to hide himself from Toby the way he hid himself from Kathy.
When Elliot got back down there he was going to hold Toby for about an hour, and then he was going to pour it all out. He didn't have to do this alone.
Elliot had had enough fresh air. What he needed now was Toby. He took the stairs two at a time back down to the ward, nodded to the nurses he passed in the gloomily-lit corridor, rounded the door to Olivia's room and froze. "Captain."
He wasn't ready for this.
"Elliot."
Elliot squashed the impulse to concoct a story. Cragen already knew who Toby was. Even that momentary urge, while Olivia lay injured between them, made Elliot feel petty and small. Toby had come all the way into the city to give him food and a break, and Elliot could have dismissed him as some casual acquaintance. Now Toby sat stiffly on the chair Elliot had left, looking uncomfortable but he didn't seem traumatised. No catastrophes, then, except the one unconscious in the bed. Olivia's eyes were sunken and dark, her jaw seemed too tight, like she'd withered since Elliot took his breather.
"How's she doing, Elliot?"
Elliot reminded himself of how calmly Cragen had taken Toby's cell number. Cragen didn't give a damn about Elliot's personal life; he was here for Olivia. "The same. The doc said not to hope for anything before morning." And there was no guarantee she'd wake then. Nothing new, since they spoke on the phone two hours ago.
Toby stepped away from the chair, silently, to offer it back.
Elliot had had enough sitting, but everyone standing around like this made it feel more awkward. He shuffled in and sat, and Toby and the captain hovered, and they all listened to the hum and whirr of the machines. So much for that burst of enthusiasm for opening up to Toby. Elliot looked up, suddenly. "Are you sure Holly's all right at home?"
"She's fine."
"Okay."
Cragen asked, "Holly's your daughter?"
"Yes. She's eleven. She has my number if she needs me, and the neighbour's a friend."
Elliot wanted to tell Toby he didn't need to justify himself, but it felt good to talk about something else. Elliot wasn't sure he could leave Elizabeth alone like that, but he secretly admired Toby's determination to teach Holly independence. Today he was grateful for it. "Have you talked to her about Vermont, yet?"
Toby smiled. "Yeah. She's excited. She's already making menu plans."
"That's good. Harry and all?"
"Even so."
Elliot hoped Toby would check Harry's dinner for spiders. The conversation petered out and the machines filled the silence until Cragen broke it. "You're going to Vermont?"
Elliot gave him his best warning scowl. He wasn't going to hide Toby, but he wasn't having Cragen butt in on his life. "Toby's going to Vermont." And that was none of his business.
As usual, the glare bounced right off Cragen, who just contemplated them both. "I was serious about that vacation time, Elliot. We'll discuss it when you get back."
They both looked at Olivia at that. Maybe Elliot wouldn't be back as soon as they thought.
Cragen shuffled his feet. "I should be going. I have to meet with the brass in the morning. It was a pleasure to meet you, Tobias."
"And you, sir," Toby replied, meek as a kitten. Meek as an ex-con to a police captain.
Cragen gave Elliot one last nod. "Call me if there's news." He touched Olivia's shoulder, and headed out.
Alone again. Everything Elliot had wanted to talk about when he was up on the rooftop was gone. He didn't want to think about the job, or Keller, or the future. He could deal with all that tomorrow. Tonight he just wanted to wait for Olivia to wake up, and to keep Toby near.
"How much longer can you stay?"
Toby blinked, and checked his watch. "I can manage another half an hour."
"I'll take it. Tell me about your plans for Vermont."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
end chapter 51
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: 2712
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 51: Waiting
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 50, Reflection:
Elliot's job of intimidating a college rapist got an eensy bit out of control. After being dragged off by Cragen and Finn, Elliot stumbled off the bathroom to stare at the reflection of a monster. Chris Keller was too fucking close, and the job was dragging Elliot ever-closer. Olivia calmed him enough to go tell Cragen he had to get out for a few days. Cragen suggested he leave his badge and guns behind.
It took a full day before Elliot went to (sort of) tell Toby about it, but he was interrupted by news that Olivia was headed to hospital.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The elevator let Toby out into a long white corridor of an alien world. Gridded whiteboards filled with long words, futuristic machines on trundle wheels, hushed footsteps, hushed voices, hushed lights. Someone was moaning in one of the darkened rooms. The young nurse muttered about visiting hours, until Toby explained that he was here for the guy they couldn't kick out. She pointed him along to the fourth door on the right. He'd waited until late to come, to be sure no one else would be around.
Toby lingered in the doorway, watching Elliot watch Olivia. He was hunched in a chair by the wide bed, hands tucked in his lap, lit by the light pooling from the open bathroom door. His usual bulk had faded into the room, leaving him small.
Olivia was lying stiff and straight, head sickly pale and swathed in bandages, a cobweb of wires tying her to machines of bouncing LEDs and bags of fluids.
Toby said "Elliot," softly as he came in, and Elliot's head turned in a daze.
"Toby. What are you doing here?" Elliot's tone was hushed, too. Hospital voices.
"Didn't know if you'd eat out of the vending machines or not at all, wasn't sure which was worse." He held up a take-out container, a thermos of decent coffee balanced on top. "Holly and I cooked a stir-fry. It's Mongolian lamb. It's good."
"You've got Holly at home? You should go."
"She's okay. We've got time." Toby pulled the bed's swing table close to Elliot.
Elliot frowned, irritated, like Toby was breaking his concentration on wishing Olivia well. "I'm not hungry."
Maybe it wasn't just Holly that made Elliot want Toby gone. "How does it help Olivia if you don't take care of yourself?" Toby peeled the lid off the stir fry, pressed the fork into Elliot's hand. "I know you don't care if you eat, but I do, so how about you do it just to keep me happy?"
"Toby, I'm not-"
"If you let me bully you into taking care of yourself, you'll have that much more right to bully her when she wakes up."
Elliot finally met his gaze, just a hint of frustration and a wry smile. "She has no one else to be here."
"She has you." Elliot didn't need to explain. Toby didn't want to be the sole, obsessive focus of Elliot's life. "I wasn't going to try to drag you out. Just make you eat." Toby waited pointedly for Elliot to put a fork full of dinner in his mouth, before he looked down at Olivia. "Is there any news?" Elliot had called at six to say she was out of surgery for an acute epidural hematoma. Some peeping tom had knocked her down a flight of stairs, boosting himself from a misdemeanour to a Class B felony and probably a beating from the squad.
And now Olivia was bound up in tubes and wires, and Elliot looked like he'd lost his best friend.
"The doctor said they got it early, but she hasn't woken up yet." He took a few more bites of food, sipped his coffee. "Munch said after it happened she seemed fine. She was trying to blow it off, insisted she only blacked out for a few seconds. Cragen had to order her into the care of the paramedics. She lost consciousness on her way to hospital."
Toby hovered near the foot of the bed, feeling out of place. He wished there was another chair. He wished there was something he could do, other than fuss at Elliot.
He wished he could finish the conversation from lunch. He was worried for Olivia and worried for Elliot worrying about Olivia but Toby still wanted to know what the hell had gotten Elliot into trouble. Did Elliot think Toby would be shocked at a cop beating a suspect? Did he think Toby would side with the con? After all the skeletons Toby had laid at Elliot's feet, did he think Toby would judge him? Toby had worked hard to regain Elliot's trust, but maybe he hadn't. Elliot cared about him but he didn't trust him with his job or his kids. Toby knew how that went.
"I'm supposed to be the one who gets hurt."
"She'd probably agree." Even as a grim joke, it turned Toby's stomach. He didn't know how he'd handle Elliot looking like that.
Toby stared at Olivia as Elliot ploughed through his dinner. She would have been the same old Olivia this morning, dressed with style, every hair in place, probably worrying about Elliot and his mandatory time off. Now this. A fragile thing in a hospital gown, half her hair and all of her dignity left on the floor of the operating room.
Elliot looked surprised when he realised his dinner was gone. "Thanks. I guess I needed that." He was looking more human, thank god. Toby couldn't do anything for Olivia, but he could take care of Elliot. She'd appreciate that.
"Have you been to the bathroom since you got here?"
"Am I five?"
"Have you been lately?"
The confused look was enough.
"Get out of here for five minutes. Go to the toilet, stretch your legs, breathe some New York exhaust."
"I'm not-"
Toby stepped close and chanced a hand on the back of Elliot's neck. "I'll stay with Olivia. Trust me, just a walk around the ward is going to make you feel stronger."
"All right." Elliot pushed himself to his feet like an old man, and immediately pulled Toby into a hug.
Toby had held back, unsure if Elliot wanted the comfort, if this place was private enough, but now he held on as tight as he could. He didn't have any comforting words so he just rubbed Elliot's back, pressed his lips to the sliver of skin behind Elliot's ear. Elliot's skin was warm and his grip was strong and his breath was unsteady but it was his. Toby realised he knew exactly what was going through Elliot's head. "There's no way you being there would have stopped this."
Elliot just held on, so Toby left it at that. Maybe if Elliot had been there, he'd be the one in the bed.
"Thank you." Rasped out as Elliot pulled away, keeping his face averted. "I won't be long. Call me if..." He slouched out of the room.
Toby wanted to chase after him.
He looked around, feeling how much he didn't belong. He settled in the chair still warm from Elliot's weight and tidied the take-out container into his bag and stared at the bruise-eyed woman in the bed just as Elliot had for the last six hours.
He'd spent half his evening researching epidural hematomas on the computer, but the internet had been impossibly vague on prognosis. Everything depended on something else. Surgery had gone well, but there was no telling with a head injury. It might be months before she was back to normal, or years. She might never go back to the force. She might wake up like Cyril O'Reilly, all that piercing intelligence wiped away, a child in its wake. And then what? She didn't have a brother to take care of her.
Toby knew all this was swirling around Elliot's head along with a good dose of guilt for not being by her side, and there was nothing they could do but wait.
This was the job they did. It could have been Elliot in that bed. Injured and facing an uncertain future, surrounded by terrified kids. Toby had to drag in his next breath. Would he even be welcome? He'd be the last to know, an afterthought when Olivia had a moment to spare. Maybe it would be just like this, sneaking into the ward in the dead of night so no one would know he was here.
A clearing throat roused him, and Toby stood automatically when he saw an bald, dough-faced cop in a suit and tie in the doorway. It took a second to place him, standing open-mouthed beside Olivia outside Franco's. Elliot's captain.
This was exactly what Toby had tried to avoid. Elliot was going to kill him. Toby prayed the captain didn't recognise him from that night. Sure. As if seeing his straight senior detective tending some cross dressing freak at a crime scene wouldn't stand out in his memory. Maybe Toby's flaming cheeks would disguise him long enough to make an escape. He stood up. "Hi."
"Hi. I'm Donald Cragen." He offered his hand but before Toby could fumble out an explanation, he said, "You must be Tobias."
Toby blinked. "I, uh, yes. I didn't expect..." Had Olivia told the captain his name? Olivia didn't call him Tobias. Neither did Elliot.
Cragen gave him a firm handshake. "He didn't tell you he gave me your name?"
"Today?"
"No..." Cragen looked flustered. "He asked me to make you his emergency contact. Off the record. He didn't tell you?"
"Uh, no." Really? Elliot did that? "He'll be back in a minute. He's just getting some air." Elliot had never mentioned telling anyone at work other than Olivia. Toby would have guessed Cragen would be the last on Elliot's list of confidantes. Elliot made Toby his next of kin?
Cragen walked up the other side of the bed to take a better look at Olivia, and Toby could see the air let out of him. Elliot had said he was the one who ordered her to get checked out; he probably saved her life. Cragen looked across the bed. "How's he doing?"
Toby shrugged. He was sure Cragen knew how Elliot took things. "He wishes he was the one in the bed."
"That much I could have guessed."
Toby sat down. It felt slightly surreal, being here in the dim night-lighting, making conversation with Elliot's boss. Elliot's boss, who'd seen Toby in bad drag in the meatpacking district, and yet Elliot had trusted him with Toby's details. He wondered how that conversation had gone, tried to imagine privacy-hoarding Detective Stabler explaining to his captain that the slut in the red dress was his homosexual lover.
Toby wasn't going to look the captain in the eye again. But Elliot had done it, and Toby wanted to kiss him for it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Toby was right. Elliot had needed to get out of that room. He pulled his coat tight as he stared out over the lights of the skyline, watching the crawl of headlights up Seventh Avenue from the hospital roof. He took deep lungfuls of the crisp night air, revived by the cold pressing his cheeks and reaching down his collar.
Olivia had to be okay. The job was everything to her, even more than for Elliot. She was the most fiercely independent person Elliot knew, and losing that, even for a while... He couldn't imagine her like that.
If Olivia was out of it, Elliot's decision whether to stay at SVU was going to be easy.
Something like terror bubbled in Elliot's gut. He was really thinking about this. He was standing on a precipice, and on one side was more of the same, endless frustration and rage until Toby left, just like Kathy, and on the other side was a yawning black void. What could he do if he didn't work SVU? Homicide? It didn't seem much better. White collar? No way. Vice, busting the women he'd spent fifteen years trying to protect? No way in hell. Maybe it was time to go into private security. The boredom would kill him. And how could he walk away from the Hollys of the world? The Tobys?
Thank god for Toby. Elliot wondered if he had any idea how much it meant that he'd come. With a coffee and a home-made dinner, and light chatter like seeing Olivia in that bed wasn't terrifying. Elliot needed to talk to him almost as much as he needed Liv to wake up. He'd been an idiot to think he couldn't. He had to tell Toby what the job was doing to him, what the shadow of Chris Keller was doing to him. Toby was right: his head was spinning in circles, and it was going to keep doing that until he trusted that Toby had... maybe not magic words, but at least some idea where north was. He didn't need to hide himself from Toby the way he hid himself from Kathy.
When Elliot got back down there he was going to hold Toby for about an hour, and then he was going to pour it all out. He didn't have to do this alone.
Elliot had had enough fresh air. What he needed now was Toby. He took the stairs two at a time back down to the ward, nodded to the nurses he passed in the gloomily-lit corridor, rounded the door to Olivia's room and froze. "Captain."
He wasn't ready for this.
"Elliot."
Elliot squashed the impulse to concoct a story. Cragen already knew who Toby was. Even that momentary urge, while Olivia lay injured between them, made Elliot feel petty and small. Toby had come all the way into the city to give him food and a break, and Elliot could have dismissed him as some casual acquaintance. Now Toby sat stiffly on the chair Elliot had left, looking uncomfortable but he didn't seem traumatised. No catastrophes, then, except the one unconscious in the bed. Olivia's eyes were sunken and dark, her jaw seemed too tight, like she'd withered since Elliot took his breather.
"How's she doing, Elliot?"
Elliot reminded himself of how calmly Cragen had taken Toby's cell number. Cragen didn't give a damn about Elliot's personal life; he was here for Olivia. "The same. The doc said not to hope for anything before morning." And there was no guarantee she'd wake then. Nothing new, since they spoke on the phone two hours ago.
Toby stepped away from the chair, silently, to offer it back.
Elliot had had enough sitting, but everyone standing around like this made it feel more awkward. He shuffled in and sat, and Toby and the captain hovered, and they all listened to the hum and whirr of the machines. So much for that burst of enthusiasm for opening up to Toby. Elliot looked up, suddenly. "Are you sure Holly's all right at home?"
"She's fine."
"Okay."
Cragen asked, "Holly's your daughter?"
"Yes. She's eleven. She has my number if she needs me, and the neighbour's a friend."
Elliot wanted to tell Toby he didn't need to justify himself, but it felt good to talk about something else. Elliot wasn't sure he could leave Elizabeth alone like that, but he secretly admired Toby's determination to teach Holly independence. Today he was grateful for it. "Have you talked to her about Vermont, yet?"
Toby smiled. "Yeah. She's excited. She's already making menu plans."
"That's good. Harry and all?"
"Even so."
Elliot hoped Toby would check Harry's dinner for spiders. The conversation petered out and the machines filled the silence until Cragen broke it. "You're going to Vermont?"
Elliot gave him his best warning scowl. He wasn't going to hide Toby, but he wasn't having Cragen butt in on his life. "Toby's going to Vermont." And that was none of his business.
As usual, the glare bounced right off Cragen, who just contemplated them both. "I was serious about that vacation time, Elliot. We'll discuss it when you get back."
They both looked at Olivia at that. Maybe Elliot wouldn't be back as soon as they thought.
Cragen shuffled his feet. "I should be going. I have to meet with the brass in the morning. It was a pleasure to meet you, Tobias."
"And you, sir," Toby replied, meek as a kitten. Meek as an ex-con to a police captain.
Cragen gave Elliot one last nod. "Call me if there's news." He touched Olivia's shoulder, and headed out.
Alone again. Everything Elliot had wanted to talk about when he was up on the rooftop was gone. He didn't want to think about the job, or Keller, or the future. He could deal with all that tomorrow. Tonight he just wanted to wait for Olivia to wake up, and to keep Toby near.
"How much longer can you stay?"
Toby blinked, and checked his watch. "I can manage another half an hour."
"I'll take it. Tell me about your plans for Vermont."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
end chapter 51
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.