Someone Like You 15/50: Siblings - 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: 4522
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 15: Siblings
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 14, Roast:
As Toby and Elliot wandered Little Italy, Toby pondered the pros and cons of Elliot vs Chris, and Elliot talked about the day's senior citizen orgy. Toby taught Elliot how to make a pork roast with a simmering side of UST. Elliot was becoming more at ease with the potential for penis-touching, but there was no time. There was, however, time for Elliot to put his foot in it when he nagged Toby to get a car. After their next dinner, Toby nagged Elliot to try building some more trust with Olivia.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
They'd discussed the miserable April weather, Olivia's idle thoughts about moving further uptown, and a comparison of the men's and women's bathrooms at the station, and the conversation had already drifted off.
Elliot checked his watch: just over one hour down. He picked up his coffee, realised it was cold and put it back on the dash.
Olivia lifted the radio. "Don't suppose you've got any action over that end?"
"Not even a mouse," John's voice crackled back. "Anyone want to play 'I spy'?"
"No," snapped Finn in the background, and the radio went quiet.
"Gonna be a long night," said Elliot.
"Want to play 'I spy'?" asked Olivia.
"No." He reached over the back and dug out his sandwich, peeled back the foil.
Olivia's mouth quirked. "Pork sandwiches again? That deli know you by name, yet?"
"These are my leftovers. I made a roast for the kids the other night."
That got a full smile. "You cooked a roast?"
All right. Here was an opening. Toby was wrong: Elliot could talk about things. "Toby's teaching me. He's a hell of a cook."
Only a blink gave away her surprise. "You're still..."
"Yeah." He wondered what she'd been thinking: if she thought he'd run a mile after kissing Toby, or that whatever happened would have been a spectacular failure. He had to give her credit for not digging these past few weeks, when the curiosity must have been killing her. Now he knew she was considering how to get him to give up details without putting him off, so he cut her a break. "I've been seen him a few times."
Olivia let that roll around in her head, picking her next question carefully. "Is it serious?"
It wasn't meant to be. It was supposed to be testing a few boundaries, no guarantees. And still, it wasn't like Elliot was about to introduce Toby to his family, or start bringing him flowers. "I don't know." Sometimes it seemed like it was. Sometimes this whole situation seemed ridiculous. "He's a guy."
"I noticed."
Elliot struggled for something else to say. He hoped Toby didn't expect him to tell Olivia how it felt playing games with Holly last night, watching her giggle and tease like an ordinary girl when for Elliot all the ugly details of her abduction and her brother's murder were still fresh and raw. Toby said he'd be impressed by mentioning that he visited, so he could just leave it at this.
"I'm glad you told me." She gave him a small smile. "What's it like?"
The dating part was like... going out with a woman, Elliot supposed, except for Elliot being completely hung up about sex. He was hardly going to explain that to Olivia. "Toby's obsessed with talking out feelings. It's like dating Huang." He shuddered at that idea.
She chuckled.
The talking was good for him. Kathy had given up pushing a long time ago. As soon as he thought it, a dozen arguments came to mind. No, she didn't stop pushing. Elliot just stopped giving in. "You want to share my sandwich? It's good."
"I wouldn't miss a chance to taste Elliot Stabler's foray into serious cooking."
Elliot took half for himself and passed her the rest in the foil.
She took a bite and nodded, impressed. Toby was right - he did feel good about talking to Liv.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The scents of tomato and baking cheese rolled out as Toby opened the door, and Elliot swayed on his feet. "That's the best thing I've ever smelled in my life."
Toby caught his sleeve to tug him inside, sliding Elliot's jacket off as he passed. "Holly and I had spaghetti and meat sauce last night, so I used the leftovers to throw together a lasagne. You don't look like you'll be awake long enough to eat it."
"It may be all that keeps me awake that long." It was only Toby's double-take that made Elliot remember he still had his gun. He usually left it at work when he came to Toby's, but today he hadn't even thought of it. "Sorry."
"Don't worry about it."
"Holly's not home?" He knew she wasn't, but he had to check.
"No."
Elliot slid off his holster and dug out the trigger lock he'd been carrying lately, locked it down and piled it on a side table, threw his jacket over it. It wasn't regulation security but Elliot was too tired to give a damn. Toby wasn't about to go running off with his gun. Finally he collapsed on the couch, wincing at the twinge in his stomach, and dragging off his tie.
"Long day?"
"Got called in at four am." A dead five year-old boy, scarred from years of abuse, dumped like trash. "Chased a perp most of a mile only to find out he was running because he thought we were there about a stolen bicycle. Took a punch in the gut from a father who took exception to my questions." He had to be exhausted, to be running off about his day like this.
"Are you hurt?"
Elliot shrugged it off. "He weighed a hundred and forty pounds. Can't blame him. If someone asked me those questions about my kids..." He hated that part of the job. You had to start with the parents, and until you were done you didn't know if you were cutting straight to the heart of the case or piling more trauma on good people. Today it had been piling trauma. "I didn't have time for lunch, but the day didn't get any better after whenever that was supposed to happen."
Toby sat on the coffee table in front of him. "Dinner's going to be half an hour. I was going to suggest a quick grope, but I won't judge if you want to nap."
A nap sounded incredible. Closing his eyes was like a siren call, but- "I just got here."
Toby reached over to give him a reassuring pat on his leg. "I'd rather you take a quick one now than face plant in my cooking. Go on, pass out. I'll wake you up when there's food."
He picked Elliot's tie up off the floor and hung it over his jacket, headed off to his bedroom before Elliot could manage any more protests, and Elliot closed his eyes gratefully.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Mmm. Kiss. Long time since Kathy woke him with a kiss. Elliot missed her. He didn't open his eyes, but the smile pulling across his face probably gave him away.
It wasn't Kathy. Kathy was gone. Elliot's gut clenched.
Toby had kissed him. He was on Toby's couch. Elliot forced his eyes open to find Toby leaning over him, and managed a groggy 'Mmph.' He wanted Kathy to slide in and wrap her arms around him, wanted to bury his face in her hair and smell her.
"I'm just dishing up now, if you want to go wash your hands and face."
Elliot just wanted to close his eyes and go back to sleep. Maybe then he'd wake up knowing where he was and who he was with. Guilt squeezed his gut.
Now he could smell hot cheese, and his stomach growled. And here was Toby, waiting for him. Toby wasn't such a bad way to wake up. It had been a long time since Kathy woke him that way. "'ll right."
Toby kissed him again. "You're sexy when you're asleep."
Elliot huffed, and rubbed his eyes, and dragged himself to his feet. His gut twinged, and he rubbed it as he shuffled to the bathroom. The nap had left him dopey, but hunger was beating out the urge to fall back on the couch. Dinner smelled great.
A long piss and then cold water over his face made him feel a little more human. He wiped his face dry on Toby's towel. Someone's father had punched him in the stomach, face contorted in poisonous rage. That was why his gut hurt.
As he got his bearings his day started trickling back. Braden's body. Warner's bitter report. Combing through a paedophile's prize collection of happy snaps until Olivia caught him starting to nod.
Elliot wished he'd never woken. At least he hadn't dreamed. With the shit filling his head today, it wouldn't have been pleasant.
When Elliot came out Toby was taking hot plates out of the oven. He dumped them on the counter and flicked the dishtowel over his shoulder and waved his hand to cool it off. "Feeling better?" He wouldn't be so irritatingly cheerful if Elliot told him about the tiny body he'd studied today.
Hair the same colour as Toby's son. Jesus. He wished he hadn't thought of that.
"Elliot?"
"I'm fine."
While Toby dished up, Elliot pulled a couple of sodas out of the fridge, dug out the forks. Felt Toby press up behind him, hands sliding over his hips. "I've been looking forward to picking up where we left off after our cooking lesson."
The purring words and the erection pressing against Elliot's ass left him cold. He shifted away and headed for the table. Today clung to his skin like a sticky film. A splash of water over his face wasn't enough; he wanted to shower, scrub himself raw, crouch on the tiles and let the water run over him.
Toby laid the lasagne in the centre of the table and stripped off his mitts to catch Elliot's belt and tug him closer, and this time he got the message when Elliot reared back. Kathy used to get the same look on her face when he didn't want to touch her. In the early years of SVU, anyway. She'd learned to stop taking it personally a long time ago.
"Is everything okay?"
"Do you have to?" For Toby this was just a long campaign for something Elliot probably didn't want, and right now even the idea of it made Elliot's stomach roll.
Toby's face closed. "No, I don't have to."
He stalked back to the kitchen for the plates, and Elliot gripped the back of the chair. This wasn't about Toby.
Toby came back and dropped the plates, just the slightest bit harder than he needed to, took a step towards the kitchen and swung around. "Are we back to pretending you don't want me to touch your cock?"
Did Elliot really want to replay scenes from his marriage with Toby? He took a slow breath in. He was pissed at the world, not at Toby, who didn't have a fucking clue what Elliot waded through today. "Sorry." Elliot had ruined his relationship with Kathy the way he closed himself off. He was the one who stopped letting her help. He had to do better this time.
"I'm not pushing you into anything. You're the one who-"
"I spent the last four hours staring through kiddie porn."
"Oh." Toby waited, obviously trying to figure out what Elliot needed. Elliot didn't know what he needed. He needed fathers to protect their children. He needed husbands to stop abusing their wives. He needed defence attorneys to care more about justice than the law.
"My skin's crawling."
Toby stood, helpless, and Elliot felt bad for bringing this here. Kathy had learned to give him his space when he was like this. Keep out of his way, leave him to lift weights or beat the punching bag until exhaustion took him to bed, and then she'd slide in and mould herself around him. When he woke in the night, she'd be there. What was Toby supposed to do?
Toby gathered a breath like he was about to speak, let it go. Shifted his feet and considered and finally asked, "You're still hungry, right?"
"Starving. I had a coffee for breakfast."
"Then let's feed you."
"I'm sorry I can't..."
"Let's just eat." He said it gently, and Elliot decided to take it as kindness, rather than irritation.
They sat down, and Elliot put a forkful of lasagne in his mouth, and paused. "Wow, Toby."
"Real bechamel sauce. These days people just dump ricotta in there instead, as if they're prison cooks on a budget. That's not lasagne."
They ate in silence, good food slowly softening the edges of Elliot's mood, stilling the churning in his gut. He could do better than this. He sipped his soda, tried to think about what was going on in Toby's life. "Isn't Harry coming this weekend?"
"Yeah."
It was Mothers' Day, so Kathy had their kids all weekend. "What are your plans?"
"I mailed him a city guide, told him to circle whatever he wanted to see, and we'd pack in as much as we could."
"Just the three of you?"
"That's right. Before this, every visit has been a family event. We stay at Mother's, sometimes Angus and his family stay too. I feel like I have to share him. This time, I've put my foot down. It's going to be my kids and me."
"That's great, Toby. Is Holly excited?"
"I suppose. She hasn't said much, but she's pretty wrapped up in the last weeks of school."
"How's she feeling about middle school in September?"
"Almost as nervous as me. We did a tour of St Edith's yesterday, so she's feeling a little better about it. She was excited when she saw the art rooms."
Toby let Elliot keep the conversation on Holly as they cleared the table, so when it petered off, he admitted, "It was a bad day."
"Is there anything I can do?"
Elliot shrugged. "Make me a lasagne and let me talk about other stuff for a while."
Toby's arms slid around him and Elliot latched on, leaned in to Toby's weight. He felt different from Kathy and that was all right. Toby was strong, he knew about the stuff Elliot had protected Kathy from and he smelled good in his own way.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Toby turned the page in Harry's New York guide book. "So we can tick off Central Park and the Museum of Natural History. What do you want to see in Times Square tomorrow?"
Harry shrugged, head hanging so all Toby could see was dark hair.
Toby put a hand on his shoulder, not sure if it was welcome but he'd finally got Holly to bury her nose in a book to get her quiet while he sat with Harry at the table, carefully positioned between them, and he was grasping for any connection he could before they started sniping at each other again. "You've circled Toys R Us and Hershey's. How about M&Ms World?"
"Okay."
Ripley's was circled of course. Two-headed calves and shrunken heads: Toby was going to have to keep Holly close through that one. "So we'll spend the day at Times Square, and then you wanted to go up the Empire State Building? Holly loves the Empire State Building, don't you Holly?"
Holly didn't look up. "We went there two weeks ago."
"Then maybe you can point out some of the sights for Harry. You know more of this city than I do."
"I don't want her to," said Harry.
Holly narrowed her eyes at Harry. "Hershey's at Times Square is stupid. It's just a shop."
Toby took a deep breath. He'd wanted five minutes of peace. He should have left Holly to her book.
"Hol, Harry's only got one weekend here, so-"
"I don't care what she says. She's an idiot!"
"Harry!"
"You don't care about anyone but yourself!"
"Holly!"
"Dad said we could do what I want!"
Holly threw down her book, poised on the couch like she was ready to spring over the arm, claws out. "Why do I have to spend another day doing baby things?"
"Holly!"
"I'm not a baby! You're a baby! I wanted to go to Coney Island but I can't because you're a scaredy cat!"
"Harry!"
Holly jumped to her feet, finally in tears. "Why don't you go home to your own family instead of stealing mine!"
"Stop it, the pair of you!"
Harry shrugged off Toby's hand, standing as well. "I didn't even want to come to stupid New York! It's cold and I miss my friends and I hate you both!"
"Go to your rooms!"
Harry whirled on Toby. "I don't have a room! I hate it here and I want to go home to Nan and Pop!"
"Go home to San Diego!" Holly yelled. "Don't come back!"
"Shut up! Shut up, the pair of you! Another fucking word-" Toby almost choked on the filthy taste of rage, his blood pounding with fury at his own children. What had he become? He tried to force his voice down but it was still too loud as he snapped, "Holly, to your room right now! Harry, to my room! Nobody speaks until we've all calmed down!"
"Dad!"
"Get out!"
They both ran out, sobbing through slammed doors, and Toby stood at the table, shaking. He hadn't used that dangerous tone in years. Two years. And then he'd been wielding it at grown men.
He wanted to tear the room apart. He wanted the hacks to storm in and give him someone to fight, hacks to subdue him and throw him in the Hole, where he couldn't be seen or touched. Where he could wish all he wanted for a jar of 90-proof moonshine, but he couldn't flee downstairs and across the street to the package store.
He held still, trying to remember how he kept himself calm when this kind of helpless violence was beating in his veins.
Toby didn't want to be the adult in the house. He didn't know how. He was fucking this up. Who was he supposed to talk to first? He didn't know what to say, where to start. He wanted to throw things, hear them smash, and then drink himself into oblivion.
Harry was happy in San Diego. He was happy with Gen's parents, and Toby was selfishly fucking it all up. Harry hated him.
And Holly. This vicious stranger! Where was his timid, gentle daughter, who couldn't be prised from his side no matter how far he fell?
He could hear them both crying, and he was paralysed. What the fuck made him think he could stumble out of eight years in that pit and make himself a father?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Toby held off unwrapping his sandwich. The sun was warm, the park was quiet, and he had a bench to himself. He'd been proud of himself for putting off calling Elliot this long. He hadn't wanted to call him from the office. Even if Elliot could only spare ninety seconds of his friendly voice, Toby would take it.
"Toby, hey."
"Is this a bad time?"
"No, you're timing's perfect as long as you don't mind the sound of me chewing. Liv's insisting I need to eat a meal at least once a day."
"Are you still caught up in that shooting case?" Toby could tell he was at the precinct by the background noise.
"Three steps forward, two steps back. I'd rather hear about Harry's visit."
Toby didn't want to talk about that at all. Holly had refused to come to JFK, which ended up being a relief because it gave Toby a couple of hours alone with Harry, and he managed to at least undo enough damage that Harry gave him a solid hug goodbye. "It was good. We did Times Square, the Empire State Building, all the usual stuff."
"Toys R Us and the Hershey's store?"
"Of course." Toby grimaced at the pigeons gathering hopefully around his feet.
They only managed a few minutes before Elliot got called off to the lab, but Toby felt a lot better for the chat. Elliot thought Toby's relationship with Holly was some kind of miracle. He didn't need to know she hadn't said a word to him since yesterday when she lifted her head off the pillow long enough to snarl that she wasn't going to the stupid airport.
As Toby hung up the missed call icon caught his eye. Jonah had called while he was chatting with Elliot. Toby's lifted mood slithered away, along with his appetite. He dialled back before he could start making excuses to put it off.
"Jonah, hello."
"Toby, what happened? When we met Harrison at the airport he burst into tears and swore he was never going back."
Fire burned at the back of Toby's throat. So much for undoing the damage. "It was a disaster from start to finish. He and Holly fought all weekend."
There was a long sigh. "I know it's hard for you, making up for everything that's happened, but you have to do something about Holly's behaviour. Harrison's still up in his room."
"Holly's usually the best-behaved kid you'll meet."
"Did she tell Harrison he wasn't family? That he wasn't welcome in your house?"
Both of those things. Emphatically. "Believe me, Jonah, Harry gave as good as he got." He'd told Holly she was spoiled and a chicken and had no friends, and the way that last one had hit her, Toby was going to have to dig into how she was doing socially at school.
"Handling them is a father's job."
"I know that." Toby unwrapped a corner of his sandwich and threw a couple of crumbs on the ground, watched the pigeons gather like prisoners around a dealer.
"Spoiling the children doesn't solve-"
"Spoiling them? Jonah, I'm not-"
"A Nintendo DS?"
"I bought him a game and a few t-shirts. What's so terrible about that?"
"We don't allow those toys in our house."
Toby's fingers tightened on the phone. "You're telling me I can't buy my own son Super Mario Bros?"
He could almost see Jonah shifting in his chair, reaching for patience. "It's not like that Toby. I wish you'd spoken to us first. We've been telling Harrison for months that he can't have one, and now we look foolish."
Toby hated the reasonable voice. It was easier when Jonah was being an ass. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to subvert you; I just wanted him to have something fun out of this trip."
"You can't buy him off for Holly's cruelty."
"That's not what I was doing."
There was a long silence. "Now we're stuck with it. We can hardly confiscate it when he's already in a state over how he was treated."
Toby kicked his foot to scatter the fucking pigeons away, but he kept a hold on his tone. "You can't confiscate it. I gave it to him."
"Toby-"
"I'm not some irresponsible uncle, Jonah; I'm his father."
"And Marta and I are the ones raising him every day, with our values. Genevieve's values. You can't just waltz in and undermine us when it suits you. You have to understand that does your relationship with him no service, either."
Toby rubbed his face. He knew where Jonah was coming from. That didn't mean he liked it. "So restrict its use to an hour after his homework is done, but don't demean the connection I'm building. We spent Saturday afternoon figuring out how to play it together, and it was the best part of this whole wretched weekend. You have windsailing and school activities and helping with his homework. Let me have this."
"Fine. But Toby... You didn't see the state he was in last night. If you don't do something about Holly, you won't have him at all."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
end chapter 15
Small note for Americans: there's no ricotta in lasagne, okay? When you put ricotta in there, you may have some kind of baked pasta dish - perhaps the sort of substitute one might serve in prisons, or school cafeterias - but you do not have lasagne. This is Cooking with Toby lesson #1.
Dr Squidlove clutches feedback tight with all tentacles. 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: 4522
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 15: Siblings
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 14, Roast:
As Toby and Elliot wandered Little Italy, Toby pondered the pros and cons of Elliot vs Chris, and Elliot talked about the day's senior citizen orgy. Toby taught Elliot how to make a pork roast with a simmering side of UST. Elliot was becoming more at ease with the potential for penis-touching, but there was no time. There was, however, time for Elliot to put his foot in it when he nagged Toby to get a car. After their next dinner, Toby nagged Elliot to try building some more trust with Olivia.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
They'd discussed the miserable April weather, Olivia's idle thoughts about moving further uptown, and a comparison of the men's and women's bathrooms at the station, and the conversation had already drifted off.
Elliot checked his watch: just over one hour down. He picked up his coffee, realised it was cold and put it back on the dash.
Olivia lifted the radio. "Don't suppose you've got any action over that end?"
"Not even a mouse," John's voice crackled back. "Anyone want to play 'I spy'?"
"No," snapped Finn in the background, and the radio went quiet.
"Gonna be a long night," said Elliot.
"Want to play 'I spy'?" asked Olivia.
"No." He reached over the back and dug out his sandwich, peeled back the foil.
Olivia's mouth quirked. "Pork sandwiches again? That deli know you by name, yet?"
"These are my leftovers. I made a roast for the kids the other night."
That got a full smile. "You cooked a roast?"
All right. Here was an opening. Toby was wrong: Elliot could talk about things. "Toby's teaching me. He's a hell of a cook."
Only a blink gave away her surprise. "You're still..."
"Yeah." He wondered what she'd been thinking: if she thought he'd run a mile after kissing Toby, or that whatever happened would have been a spectacular failure. He had to give her credit for not digging these past few weeks, when the curiosity must have been killing her. Now he knew she was considering how to get him to give up details without putting him off, so he cut her a break. "I've been seen him a few times."
Olivia let that roll around in her head, picking her next question carefully. "Is it serious?"
It wasn't meant to be. It was supposed to be testing a few boundaries, no guarantees. And still, it wasn't like Elliot was about to introduce Toby to his family, or start bringing him flowers. "I don't know." Sometimes it seemed like it was. Sometimes this whole situation seemed ridiculous. "He's a guy."
"I noticed."
Elliot struggled for something else to say. He hoped Toby didn't expect him to tell Olivia how it felt playing games with Holly last night, watching her giggle and tease like an ordinary girl when for Elliot all the ugly details of her abduction and her brother's murder were still fresh and raw. Toby said he'd be impressed by mentioning that he visited, so he could just leave it at this.
"I'm glad you told me." She gave him a small smile. "What's it like?"
The dating part was like... going out with a woman, Elliot supposed, except for Elliot being completely hung up about sex. He was hardly going to explain that to Olivia. "Toby's obsessed with talking out feelings. It's like dating Huang." He shuddered at that idea.
She chuckled.
The talking was good for him. Kathy had given up pushing a long time ago. As soon as he thought it, a dozen arguments came to mind. No, she didn't stop pushing. Elliot just stopped giving in. "You want to share my sandwich? It's good."
"I wouldn't miss a chance to taste Elliot Stabler's foray into serious cooking."
Elliot took half for himself and passed her the rest in the foil.
She took a bite and nodded, impressed. Toby was right - he did feel good about talking to Liv.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The scents of tomato and baking cheese rolled out as Toby opened the door, and Elliot swayed on his feet. "That's the best thing I've ever smelled in my life."
Toby caught his sleeve to tug him inside, sliding Elliot's jacket off as he passed. "Holly and I had spaghetti and meat sauce last night, so I used the leftovers to throw together a lasagne. You don't look like you'll be awake long enough to eat it."
"It may be all that keeps me awake that long." It was only Toby's double-take that made Elliot remember he still had his gun. He usually left it at work when he came to Toby's, but today he hadn't even thought of it. "Sorry."
"Don't worry about it."
"Holly's not home?" He knew she wasn't, but he had to check.
"No."
Elliot slid off his holster and dug out the trigger lock he'd been carrying lately, locked it down and piled it on a side table, threw his jacket over it. It wasn't regulation security but Elliot was too tired to give a damn. Toby wasn't about to go running off with his gun. Finally he collapsed on the couch, wincing at the twinge in his stomach, and dragging off his tie.
"Long day?"
"Got called in at four am." A dead five year-old boy, scarred from years of abuse, dumped like trash. "Chased a perp most of a mile only to find out he was running because he thought we were there about a stolen bicycle. Took a punch in the gut from a father who took exception to my questions." He had to be exhausted, to be running off about his day like this.
"Are you hurt?"
Elliot shrugged it off. "He weighed a hundred and forty pounds. Can't blame him. If someone asked me those questions about my kids..." He hated that part of the job. You had to start with the parents, and until you were done you didn't know if you were cutting straight to the heart of the case or piling more trauma on good people. Today it had been piling trauma. "I didn't have time for lunch, but the day didn't get any better after whenever that was supposed to happen."
Toby sat on the coffee table in front of him. "Dinner's going to be half an hour. I was going to suggest a quick grope, but I won't judge if you want to nap."
A nap sounded incredible. Closing his eyes was like a siren call, but- "I just got here."
Toby reached over to give him a reassuring pat on his leg. "I'd rather you take a quick one now than face plant in my cooking. Go on, pass out. I'll wake you up when there's food."
He picked Elliot's tie up off the floor and hung it over his jacket, headed off to his bedroom before Elliot could manage any more protests, and Elliot closed his eyes gratefully.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Mmm. Kiss. Long time since Kathy woke him with a kiss. Elliot missed her. He didn't open his eyes, but the smile pulling across his face probably gave him away.
It wasn't Kathy. Kathy was gone. Elliot's gut clenched.
Toby had kissed him. He was on Toby's couch. Elliot forced his eyes open to find Toby leaning over him, and managed a groggy 'Mmph.' He wanted Kathy to slide in and wrap her arms around him, wanted to bury his face in her hair and smell her.
"I'm just dishing up now, if you want to go wash your hands and face."
Elliot just wanted to close his eyes and go back to sleep. Maybe then he'd wake up knowing where he was and who he was with. Guilt squeezed his gut.
Now he could smell hot cheese, and his stomach growled. And here was Toby, waiting for him. Toby wasn't such a bad way to wake up. It had been a long time since Kathy woke him that way. "'ll right."
Toby kissed him again. "You're sexy when you're asleep."
Elliot huffed, and rubbed his eyes, and dragged himself to his feet. His gut twinged, and he rubbed it as he shuffled to the bathroom. The nap had left him dopey, but hunger was beating out the urge to fall back on the couch. Dinner smelled great.
A long piss and then cold water over his face made him feel a little more human. He wiped his face dry on Toby's towel. Someone's father had punched him in the stomach, face contorted in poisonous rage. That was why his gut hurt.
As he got his bearings his day started trickling back. Braden's body. Warner's bitter report. Combing through a paedophile's prize collection of happy snaps until Olivia caught him starting to nod.
Elliot wished he'd never woken. At least he hadn't dreamed. With the shit filling his head today, it wouldn't have been pleasant.
When Elliot came out Toby was taking hot plates out of the oven. He dumped them on the counter and flicked the dishtowel over his shoulder and waved his hand to cool it off. "Feeling better?" He wouldn't be so irritatingly cheerful if Elliot told him about the tiny body he'd studied today.
Hair the same colour as Toby's son. Jesus. He wished he hadn't thought of that.
"Elliot?"
"I'm fine."
While Toby dished up, Elliot pulled a couple of sodas out of the fridge, dug out the forks. Felt Toby press up behind him, hands sliding over his hips. "I've been looking forward to picking up where we left off after our cooking lesson."
The purring words and the erection pressing against Elliot's ass left him cold. He shifted away and headed for the table. Today clung to his skin like a sticky film. A splash of water over his face wasn't enough; he wanted to shower, scrub himself raw, crouch on the tiles and let the water run over him.
Toby laid the lasagne in the centre of the table and stripped off his mitts to catch Elliot's belt and tug him closer, and this time he got the message when Elliot reared back. Kathy used to get the same look on her face when he didn't want to touch her. In the early years of SVU, anyway. She'd learned to stop taking it personally a long time ago.
"Is everything okay?"
"Do you have to?" For Toby this was just a long campaign for something Elliot probably didn't want, and right now even the idea of it made Elliot's stomach roll.
Toby's face closed. "No, I don't have to."
He stalked back to the kitchen for the plates, and Elliot gripped the back of the chair. This wasn't about Toby.
Toby came back and dropped the plates, just the slightest bit harder than he needed to, took a step towards the kitchen and swung around. "Are we back to pretending you don't want me to touch your cock?"
Did Elliot really want to replay scenes from his marriage with Toby? He took a slow breath in. He was pissed at the world, not at Toby, who didn't have a fucking clue what Elliot waded through today. "Sorry." Elliot had ruined his relationship with Kathy the way he closed himself off. He was the one who stopped letting her help. He had to do better this time.
"I'm not pushing you into anything. You're the one who-"
"I spent the last four hours staring through kiddie porn."
"Oh." Toby waited, obviously trying to figure out what Elliot needed. Elliot didn't know what he needed. He needed fathers to protect their children. He needed husbands to stop abusing their wives. He needed defence attorneys to care more about justice than the law.
"My skin's crawling."
Toby stood, helpless, and Elliot felt bad for bringing this here. Kathy had learned to give him his space when he was like this. Keep out of his way, leave him to lift weights or beat the punching bag until exhaustion took him to bed, and then she'd slide in and mould herself around him. When he woke in the night, she'd be there. What was Toby supposed to do?
Toby gathered a breath like he was about to speak, let it go. Shifted his feet and considered and finally asked, "You're still hungry, right?"
"Starving. I had a coffee for breakfast."
"Then let's feed you."
"I'm sorry I can't..."
"Let's just eat." He said it gently, and Elliot decided to take it as kindness, rather than irritation.
They sat down, and Elliot put a forkful of lasagne in his mouth, and paused. "Wow, Toby."
"Real bechamel sauce. These days people just dump ricotta in there instead, as if they're prison cooks on a budget. That's not lasagne."
They ate in silence, good food slowly softening the edges of Elliot's mood, stilling the churning in his gut. He could do better than this. He sipped his soda, tried to think about what was going on in Toby's life. "Isn't Harry coming this weekend?"
"Yeah."
It was Mothers' Day, so Kathy had their kids all weekend. "What are your plans?"
"I mailed him a city guide, told him to circle whatever he wanted to see, and we'd pack in as much as we could."
"Just the three of you?"
"That's right. Before this, every visit has been a family event. We stay at Mother's, sometimes Angus and his family stay too. I feel like I have to share him. This time, I've put my foot down. It's going to be my kids and me."
"That's great, Toby. Is Holly excited?"
"I suppose. She hasn't said much, but she's pretty wrapped up in the last weeks of school."
"How's she feeling about middle school in September?"
"Almost as nervous as me. We did a tour of St Edith's yesterday, so she's feeling a little better about it. She was excited when she saw the art rooms."
Toby let Elliot keep the conversation on Holly as they cleared the table, so when it petered off, he admitted, "It was a bad day."
"Is there anything I can do?"
Elliot shrugged. "Make me a lasagne and let me talk about other stuff for a while."
Toby's arms slid around him and Elliot latched on, leaned in to Toby's weight. He felt different from Kathy and that was all right. Toby was strong, he knew about the stuff Elliot had protected Kathy from and he smelled good in his own way.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Toby turned the page in Harry's New York guide book. "So we can tick off Central Park and the Museum of Natural History. What do you want to see in Times Square tomorrow?"
Harry shrugged, head hanging so all Toby could see was dark hair.
Toby put a hand on his shoulder, not sure if it was welcome but he'd finally got Holly to bury her nose in a book to get her quiet while he sat with Harry at the table, carefully positioned between them, and he was grasping for any connection he could before they started sniping at each other again. "You've circled Toys R Us and Hershey's. How about M&Ms World?"
"Okay."
Ripley's was circled of course. Two-headed calves and shrunken heads: Toby was going to have to keep Holly close through that one. "So we'll spend the day at Times Square, and then you wanted to go up the Empire State Building? Holly loves the Empire State Building, don't you Holly?"
Holly didn't look up. "We went there two weeks ago."
"Then maybe you can point out some of the sights for Harry. You know more of this city than I do."
"I don't want her to," said Harry.
Holly narrowed her eyes at Harry. "Hershey's at Times Square is stupid. It's just a shop."
Toby took a deep breath. He'd wanted five minutes of peace. He should have left Holly to her book.
"Hol, Harry's only got one weekend here, so-"
"I don't care what she says. She's an idiot!"
"Harry!"
"You don't care about anyone but yourself!"
"Holly!"
"Dad said we could do what I want!"
Holly threw down her book, poised on the couch like she was ready to spring over the arm, claws out. "Why do I have to spend another day doing baby things?"
"Holly!"
"I'm not a baby! You're a baby! I wanted to go to Coney Island but I can't because you're a scaredy cat!"
"Harry!"
Holly jumped to her feet, finally in tears. "Why don't you go home to your own family instead of stealing mine!"
"Stop it, the pair of you!"
Harry shrugged off Toby's hand, standing as well. "I didn't even want to come to stupid New York! It's cold and I miss my friends and I hate you both!"
"Go to your rooms!"
Harry whirled on Toby. "I don't have a room! I hate it here and I want to go home to Nan and Pop!"
"Go home to San Diego!" Holly yelled. "Don't come back!"
"Shut up! Shut up, the pair of you! Another fucking word-" Toby almost choked on the filthy taste of rage, his blood pounding with fury at his own children. What had he become? He tried to force his voice down but it was still too loud as he snapped, "Holly, to your room right now! Harry, to my room! Nobody speaks until we've all calmed down!"
"Dad!"
"Get out!"
They both ran out, sobbing through slammed doors, and Toby stood at the table, shaking. He hadn't used that dangerous tone in years. Two years. And then he'd been wielding it at grown men.
He wanted to tear the room apart. He wanted the hacks to storm in and give him someone to fight, hacks to subdue him and throw him in the Hole, where he couldn't be seen or touched. Where he could wish all he wanted for a jar of 90-proof moonshine, but he couldn't flee downstairs and across the street to the package store.
He held still, trying to remember how he kept himself calm when this kind of helpless violence was beating in his veins.
Toby didn't want to be the adult in the house. He didn't know how. He was fucking this up. Who was he supposed to talk to first? He didn't know what to say, where to start. He wanted to throw things, hear them smash, and then drink himself into oblivion.
Harry was happy in San Diego. He was happy with Gen's parents, and Toby was selfishly fucking it all up. Harry hated him.
And Holly. This vicious stranger! Where was his timid, gentle daughter, who couldn't be prised from his side no matter how far he fell?
He could hear them both crying, and he was paralysed. What the fuck made him think he could stumble out of eight years in that pit and make himself a father?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Toby held off unwrapping his sandwich. The sun was warm, the park was quiet, and he had a bench to himself. He'd been proud of himself for putting off calling Elliot this long. He hadn't wanted to call him from the office. Even if Elliot could only spare ninety seconds of his friendly voice, Toby would take it.
"Toby, hey."
"Is this a bad time?"
"No, you're timing's perfect as long as you don't mind the sound of me chewing. Liv's insisting I need to eat a meal at least once a day."
"Are you still caught up in that shooting case?" Toby could tell he was at the precinct by the background noise.
"Three steps forward, two steps back. I'd rather hear about Harry's visit."
Toby didn't want to talk about that at all. Holly had refused to come to JFK, which ended up being a relief because it gave Toby a couple of hours alone with Harry, and he managed to at least undo enough damage that Harry gave him a solid hug goodbye. "It was good. We did Times Square, the Empire State Building, all the usual stuff."
"Toys R Us and the Hershey's store?"
"Of course." Toby grimaced at the pigeons gathering hopefully around his feet.
They only managed a few minutes before Elliot got called off to the lab, but Toby felt a lot better for the chat. Elliot thought Toby's relationship with Holly was some kind of miracle. He didn't need to know she hadn't said a word to him since yesterday when she lifted her head off the pillow long enough to snarl that she wasn't going to the stupid airport.
As Toby hung up the missed call icon caught his eye. Jonah had called while he was chatting with Elliot. Toby's lifted mood slithered away, along with his appetite. He dialled back before he could start making excuses to put it off.
"Jonah, hello."
"Toby, what happened? When we met Harrison at the airport he burst into tears and swore he was never going back."
Fire burned at the back of Toby's throat. So much for undoing the damage. "It was a disaster from start to finish. He and Holly fought all weekend."
There was a long sigh. "I know it's hard for you, making up for everything that's happened, but you have to do something about Holly's behaviour. Harrison's still up in his room."
"Holly's usually the best-behaved kid you'll meet."
"Did she tell Harrison he wasn't family? That he wasn't welcome in your house?"
Both of those things. Emphatically. "Believe me, Jonah, Harry gave as good as he got." He'd told Holly she was spoiled and a chicken and had no friends, and the way that last one had hit her, Toby was going to have to dig into how she was doing socially at school.
"Handling them is a father's job."
"I know that." Toby unwrapped a corner of his sandwich and threw a couple of crumbs on the ground, watched the pigeons gather like prisoners around a dealer.
"Spoiling the children doesn't solve-"
"Spoiling them? Jonah, I'm not-"
"A Nintendo DS?"
"I bought him a game and a few t-shirts. What's so terrible about that?"
"We don't allow those toys in our house."
Toby's fingers tightened on the phone. "You're telling me I can't buy my own son Super Mario Bros?"
He could almost see Jonah shifting in his chair, reaching for patience. "It's not like that Toby. I wish you'd spoken to us first. We've been telling Harrison for months that he can't have one, and now we look foolish."
Toby hated the reasonable voice. It was easier when Jonah was being an ass. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to subvert you; I just wanted him to have something fun out of this trip."
"You can't buy him off for Holly's cruelty."
"That's not what I was doing."
There was a long silence. "Now we're stuck with it. We can hardly confiscate it when he's already in a state over how he was treated."
Toby kicked his foot to scatter the fucking pigeons away, but he kept a hold on his tone. "You can't confiscate it. I gave it to him."
"Toby-"
"I'm not some irresponsible uncle, Jonah; I'm his father."
"And Marta and I are the ones raising him every day, with our values. Genevieve's values. You can't just waltz in and undermine us when it suits you. You have to understand that does your relationship with him no service, either."
Toby rubbed his face. He knew where Jonah was coming from. That didn't mean he liked it. "So restrict its use to an hour after his homework is done, but don't demean the connection I'm building. We spent Saturday afternoon figuring out how to play it together, and it was the best part of this whole wretched weekend. You have windsailing and school activities and helping with his homework. Let me have this."
"Fine. But Toby... You didn't see the state he was in last night. If you don't do something about Holly, you won't have him at all."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
end chapter 15
Small note for Americans: there's no ricotta in lasagne, okay? When you put ricotta in there, you may have some kind of baked pasta dish - perhaps the sort of substitute one might serve in prisons, or school cafeterias - but you do not have lasagne. This is Cooking with Toby lesson #1.
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