Someone Like You 55/61: What good guys do - 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: 4987
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 55: What good guys do
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 54, Fresh air:
Toby showed up to baby sit Olivia while Elliot was drafted into work. Olivia was surprised, but quickly won over by food and Toby's suggestion of a walk.
Elliot was happy to find Toby and Olivia had bonded, but way more happy when Olivia went to bed so he could do a little bonding of his own. Unfortunately, the tension of Elliot's unexplained suspension and unwillingness to introduce Toby to the kids remained. Toby resolved the latter with an emotional outburst that convinced Elliot to bring his tribe to Vermont for Thanksgiving.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Elliot sat in the car, counting his breaths and flexing his fingers. He hadn't hit anything. Or anyone. He'd forgotten how hard it was, doing this without Olivia. They were short-staffed and backlogged, and he'd spent the day juggling paedophiles and frat boys who argued to his face that being drunk senseless was consent.
He almost didn't come but he couldn't face that empty house tonight, he couldn't inflict this mood on Olivia while she was sick, and he knew if he was left in his own head he'd end up storming over to Kathy's to pick a fight with Kathleen about her drinking. Or to pick a fight with Kathy about Kathleen's drinking. He was going to have to trust Toby would stay out of his face and let him blow off some steam.
He slipped on his woollen cap and climbed out of the car into the bitter cold and slammed the door, cast a long look at the liquor store. He really could have used a couple of beers, but he could hardly drink himself out of this mood in front of an alcoholic. Elliot rubbed his face. God, he was an asshole: he was pissed at Toby for being sober.
He prayed Toby wasn't going to ask how his kids took the news of Vermont. Their cousins were going to Six Flags, and Dickie and Lizzie threw a tantrum over missing out, but he couldn't back out now. Now that Toby had turned walking into this powder keg into some kind of grand proof of Elliot's trust. Elliot wanted to ask Toby why it was up to him to prove himself when Toby couldn't even trust Elliot enough to tell him he loved him.
Elliot was sure he did. Most days he was sure . Surely Toby wouldn't back Elliot into the Thanksgiving from hell if he didn't, but why was it so hard to say? Elliot would have blamed the monster inside him, if Toby hadn't proudly declared his love for a monster more times than Elliot could count.
He had his key in the door when it swung open, Holly looking up at him.
"Holly, I didn't expect..." He slid off his cap. She was supposed to be at her grandmother's. "Where's your dad?"
"At the shops."
"Oh. I should go."
"Why?"
Because he couldn't let Holly see the rage that was battering through his veins, and his skin was crawling being anywhere near her right now. "I don't want to bother you."
She gave him the universal teenage look for 'You're an idiot,' and walked back to the homework spread across the dining table, leaving the door open. "You're not bothering me." This was the friendliest she'd been since Elliot came back into Toby's life, and Elliot just wanted to get away.
Elliot shifted his feet and pumped his fists. Trapped being calm for Holly. Thank god he hadn't punched anyone or anything on the way here, and he didn't have to hide scraped knuckles. He'd had to do that with his own kids more than once, probably hadn't fooled them.
"Dad'll be home in a while." She didn't look up.
He didn't want to come in, but he could hardly turn around and leave now. He came in, closed the door, shrugged off his coat and took his time hanging it up. Thank god he'd left his gun locked up at the station. He couldn't make conversation with an eleven year-old. Could barely have made conversation with Toby. "Do you, do you mind if I just go and lift weights in your dad's room?"
She shrugged. "I don't care."
Thank god.
He walked through. Wanted to shut himself in but that didn't seem polite, so he left the door ajar after he changed, and got to burning away the memories of crying girls and middle-aged creeps and smug fucking frat boys.
Elliot worked his way around the weight bench until his thighs were aching and his arms were trembling. He dropped the barbell in its cradle and felt the burn in his abs as he sat up, panting. He grabbed the towel to wipe the sweat from his face, feeling a little more in control. One very long, hot shower and he'd almost be able to face-
Holly was standing in the doorway, staring. A long, blonde ponytail and serious blue eyes. She could have been there for half an hour for all he knew, but even now, watching each other, she didn't say anything.
It was up to Elliot. He owed her an apology anyway. "I'm sorry."
"Why?"
"For being grumpy when I came in." For wishing she'd go away, now.
"You weren't."
Elliot stayed on the bench, chasing his breath, wondering if Holly wanted to talk or was just curious to watch. Sometimes he didn't know whether he was supposed to talk to her like one of his victims or one of his daughters, but she was finally approaching him, and he had to seize the chance. "How's the homework going?"
"I finished."
"Do you like middle school?"
"It's all right. Did you have a bad day at work?"
"Yeah." He hadn't hidden it that well, then.
"Why?"
Elliot took a long breath. "Sometimes I have to talk to bad guys. Sometimes that's not very nice." It was the simplest explanation he'd found for his kids when they were younger. Simple and neat and not nearly enough to encompass why a few hours undercover left him feeling like he'd dredged through the sewers of his own psyche.
He'd had to walk out of the interrogation room in the middle of threatening one of the frat boys. He hadn't had to be dragged out; maybe that was progress. He'd felt the monster battering inside him, that piece of Chris Keller that wouldn't leave him alone.
Holly was watching, out of questions, but it seemed like she wanted to talk about his temper, and Elliot didn't have that many opportunities to talk to her without Toby around. "I know you think I'm like Stalin or the man who took you, but-"
Her forehead crinkled. "I don't think you're like Hank."
Elliot stopped, surprised.
"Hank was evil. He was a monster. You're just angry."
"Sometimes there isn't a difference."
"It's different."
It was simple as that, for an eleven year-old. Elliot wished he could tell her how much it meant to hear it from her, knowing it wasn't some kind of platitude. At least Holly was holding him responsible for his actions. She had that in common with Kathleen. Sweat was beading on his forehead, so wiped his face again, the back of his neck.
"Is this what you do when you're angry?"
Elliot looked at the weights. "Yeah. Mostly."
"Ling, my counsellor, says that when I'm really angry, I should go and talk to somebody about something else for a while. And then I should talk about the bad thing after I calm down."
Elliot licked his lip. He had to step carefully. "Is there something you want to talk about?"
A few seconds passed, and then she shook her head. There was definitely something.
Elliot leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Are you angry a lot?"
Holly folded her arms, a familiar expression on her face. "My mother killed herself and my brother was murdered and my grandad was murdered and my dad's part crazy. Why would I be angry?"
He almost smiled. "Your dad does that."
"What?"
"Says the terrible things that have happened to him like they're nothing, to shock people. I'm not that easily shocked."
She looked down and shrugged.
"You're a lot better at hiding your anger than I am."
Her nose wrinkled. "You're big and strong and a boy. Nobody thinks you're weird if you're angry a lot."
It took the wind out of him completely. Holly didn't have suspects to shove around, or a boyfriend to punch. What did an eleven year-old girl do with her well-earned rage?
"Holly, did something happen?"
"No." She turned and walked away. Elliot gave her a second's head start and then borrowed a pair of Toby's sweatpants and followed, bringing the towel. The muscles in shoulders were cramping. He was sticky and probably stank, but there wasn't going to be any showering yet.
She was standing in the middle of the living room. Elliot pulled a chair from the table and sat, so he wouldn't loom over her. Be small, be casual, be understanding. "I'll bet sometimes you don't want to tell your dad things, because you don't want to upset him. You know you can talk to me, don't you?"
She shrugged. He waited.
She reached up for her ponytail, and twisted the end in her fingers. "You're coming to Vermont."
"That's right. And my kids. Do you mind?"
A dark look passed across her face, and Elliot braced himself. Finally she said, "I like you better than Harry." That hung there for a moment, and then she let a little smile creep out.
Ahhh. "Thanks." Elliot gave her a little smile back. He'd been bracing himself for another serve on him hitting Toby, or bullying at school, or a new hideous revelation from her past. He could barely speak for relief that it was a familiar problem being dredged up. "You and Harry don't get along, do you?"
"I hate him."
"I haven't met Harry. Is he angry, like me?"
She drifted over to perch on the arm of the couch. "No. He doesn't care."
"He doesn't care about getting along?"
"He doesn't care about anyone. He doesn't care about Dad." She looked around the room, considering. "Do your kids all like each other?"
"They fight sometimes, but they take care of each other, too. They all grew up living in each other's space, playing together, eating together. You and Harry don't have that."
"I had Gary."
Elliot stilled. He had a feeling he was going to be having an incredibly long conversation with Toby tonight. "You and Gary must have been close."
Her fingers dug into the couch, but she kept her chin steady. He could see it was an effort. "He stood up to the mean kids at school."
"Were there a lot of mean kids?" Her silence was enough of an answer. "It sounds like he was a good brother."
"He was the best."
Elliot's gaze drifted to a photo on the wall. Gary and Holly, eight and six years old, cheesy grins for the camera and their arms around each other outside a school. Toby had told him it was the last photo taken of Gary. "Why don't you come and sit down? You can tell me about him."
He could see her teetering, so he reached and pushed the chair out. At last, Holly came and sat with him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Elliot was waiting for it when Toby came back from the bathroom, glasses on, and closed the bedroom door. "All right. Are you going to tell me what the hell was going on with you and Holly tonight?" Last week Holly hadn't stopped glaring at him, and since Toby got home tonight she'd been as shy and awkward as the day they met, right up until she surprised them both by hugging Elliot goodnight, thin arms winding around his neck, sliding away again before Elliot realised the gift he'd got. Toby had stared, wide-eyed. Like he was doing now.
Elliot sat on the bed. "She doesn't want to share Gary. That's why she got so angry that time at the zoo."
Toby kept right on staring. "I don't understand."
"I don't know if you know how close they were while you were inside. They relied on each other. They clung to each other after Genevieve died. Gary protected her from the bullies at school, and he spent the last few days of his life shielding her from Hank Schillinger, and she doesn't want Harry replacing him." She hadn't painted details, but now Elliot had a picture of the eight year-old boy in that photo putting himself between his little sister and a full-grown psycho.
It took Toby a full minute to shut his mouth. "She told you all that?"
"Yeah."
Elliot saw disappointment creep through the surprise. He'd seen it on a hundred parents, after learning second-hand about things their own kids had been afraid to tell them.
"She doesn't want to upset you. But she wants you to know, or she never would have told me."
Holly had never cried as she explained how Hank Schillinger had told her and Gary, right to their faces, that he had taken them to hurt Toby. Holly didn't have the words to explain, but it sounded like the way she saw it, if Toby was broken, Hank won, and she wasn't ever going to let Hank win. She'd told Elliot, 'Hank wasn't angry. He didn't care. His dad paid him to take us because his dad hated our dad.' Elliot had asked her permission for what he could tell Toby. She'd agreed to almost everything but that. Holly was right; it was more than Toby needed to know.
Toby rolled his jaw, and his eyes sparked. "What? There was nothing on TV, so you suddenly decided to play SVU detective with my daughter?"
"It wasn't like that." Talking to kids was Elliot's job, but so was talking to distraught parents. He had a few advantages with Toby. He reached and caught his hand, pulled him closer. "I came over in a mood and you weren't home so I came in here and lifted weights. She came in, she started asking about Vermont and if my kids get along." Holly was right: talking about something else had chased his own anger away. He'd forgotten all about the stress from work. "She hates that her fighting with Harry upsets you, but her loyalty to Gary comes first."
Elliot tugged, and Toby finally sat beside him. "I don't love Gary any less-"
"You hardly need to explain that to me."
Toby stared at the floor. "What did you tell her?"
"I talked about my twins, and how close they are, but how they still have Maureen and Kathleen. Suggested that maybe Harry needed a big sister to look out for him like Holly needed her big brother." He squeezed Toby's hand. "Don't expect any miracles."
Toby was quiet for a long time, so Elliot pushed him over on the bed and curled up behind to hold him, closed his eyes at the unsteady swell of Toby's lungs. Tried to imagine for the hundredth time this year what would be left of him if some scumbag took Dickie away, and left Lizzie broken. Not enough to function the way Toby did.
"She's strong, Toby. A lot of kids - plenty of adults - take that kind of trauma and hide themselves away. Holly's galvanised it into loyalty to her family."
"Harry's her family."
Elliot pressed his face into Toby's hair. "You and Gary and Holly - and your parents - you all weathered it together. That makes one hell of a bond." Toby had to feel it too. Harry had to feel it, had to know he wasn't part of that.
Toby fell quiet. Elliot pressed his nose in his hair and breathed him in, concentrated on the feel of him in his arms.
"She's got a lot of anger."
Toby huffed. "Don't we all?"
It was true. All of them had a little of the beast inside. Holly and Toby had found better ways to deal with theirs. Elliot needed to do the same, stop the endless cycle of rage and guilt.
He'd asked Holly how she fought her anger. She'd told him, "Ling says fighting anger just makes it bigger. She says you have to let it go."
He'd asked, "How do you do that?"
Holly had lifted her chin, smug as anything. "Hank and his dad wanted to hurt my dad. Every time I protect my dad, or hug him, I win."
Elliot had wanted to hug her. Maybe that was what he needed to do. Hug people more often. Keep his family closer.
Elliot breathed Toby's scent as he considered. It mattered that he said this right. "I know you hate that Holly saw you in prison, but it means something that she has that memory of you. Harry wasn't part of that. He still isn't part of rebuilding your life. You see him every couple of months; that's not going to build the relationship you want: not with you, not with Holly."
"It's all I've got."
"It doesn't have to be." Elliot squeezed him to keep him quiet, as his whole body tightened against Elliot's hold. "You're his father, Toby. All you have to do is say the word and you get to see him every day, and he and Holly get to be brother and sister."
"He doesn't want to live with me."
Elliot would never, ever let that get between him and his kids. No matter how difficult Kathleen got, he was never going to walk away. "It's not our job to give kids what they want. We're supposed to do what's best for them."
"What's best for them, not us. He's settled there. He has friends and stability, and Jonah and Marta are the family he's known his whole life. I'm not forcing him to move to New York."
Elliot read the danger rising in his tone, and dropped it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Toby woke suddenly, and alone.
It took a moment to remember Elliot had been here earlier. He felt the other side of the bed, found the sheets cold. Elliot had been telling him about his conversation with Holly, everything Holly had told him about Gary and Hank and all the anger inside her. Toby gritted his teeth. So much damage wreaked on everyone he loved, and every time he tried to look forward, another demon reared its head.
It was so stupid that he hadn't understood her. There'd never been a cross word or any kind of competition between her and Gary when they visited him in Oz. Toby had taken it for granted: them being so much closer in age than him and Angus, best behaviour for special occasions. He'd never thought of it as the two of them against the world. It shouldn't have taken Elliot to tell him that, but thank god for him.
He struggled up on his elbows, cracked his jaw wide on a yawn. He was still in his pants and polo shirt. Elliot must have taken off his glasses; he found them folded neatly on the nightstand.
Light shifted in the crack under the door. Elliot hadn't left. Toby yawned again and pressed himself out of bed, fumbled his glasses on and drunkenly wound his way out to the living room. It was cool out here. Elliot was lounging on the couch in sweatpants and a t-shirt, feet up on the coffee table, lit by the flickering television. Some football game, of course.
Elliot snatched up the remote when he saw him. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"
Toby waved a hand. "I can barely hear it." He dropped into the seat next to Elliot and curled up against him, knees in Elliot's lap, breathing that safe Elliot-scent, grateful for the arm that settled around his shoulders. First thing, he had to undo being such a jerk. "Thanks for taking care of Holly."
"Of course, Toby. I understand."
Of course he did. "It sounds like you're back on her good side."
A moment passed, and Elliot lifted the remote again, dropped the volume to just one bar over mute, nothing but the soft whisper of sibilants. "Yeah. I think so." He shifted under Toby; there was more to say, something on his mind. Toby prayed he hadn't been keeping anything even worse back from that conversation. Elliot's hand played in Toby's hair, trailing down to the nape of his neck, chest vibrating under Toby's cheek as he spoke. "I'm glad it was hard to win Holly's forgiveness. It was right, that she made me earn her trust. I should tell her that."
Toby splayed his hand over Elliot's stomach, waiting.
"I don't want you to be okay with me hitting you."
Toby sucked in a breath. They were really going back to that? "That was months ago. And I never said it was okay. I said I forgave you."
Elliot wouldn't let Toby sit up, so Toby was left watching the two suited, muted commentators on the screen out of the corner of his eye, feeling Elliot's voice rumble against his face. The frame of his glasses was sticking into his nose. "I don't want you to put up with the moods and the excuses Kathy put up with all those years." Toby felt more than heard the swallow. "I pushed her away because I knew if she saw inside me, she wouldn't love me anymore. Sometimes I think... that you loved Chris Keller and that should make me feel safe. You wanted someone darker and uglier than I could ever... so I don't have to be afraid of you seeing who I am. But this... what I'm carrying around; it shouldn't feel safe."
"Elliot..."
"I don't want to just be better than some rapist-murderer you loved in prison. I want to be one of the good guys. I want you to hold me to account, like Holly did."
Elliot comparing himself to Chris was ludicrous. But after what Toby had done to him, it was inevitable. The damage wasn't gone just because Elliot forgave Toby. Toby knew that better than anyone. "So what does a good guy do?"
"What do you mean?"
Toby wished he could see Elliot's face. He rubbed a hand over his stomach, played with the fabric of his t-shirt. "You said you want to be a good guy. Tell me what a good man does."
"He takes care of his family. He protects the weak. Controls his temper."
"Isn't that what you did today?"
"I had to walk out of an interrogation today."
"But you did walk out."
There was a long pause. "Yeah." Elliot's chest swelled beneath him, let go slowly. "A good man does it every day."
Toby wasn't going to get inside unless Elliot really started talking. He pushed against Elliot's grip and turned until he could see his profile. "Tell me what's been going on at work."
Elliot stared blindly at the game, reflection flickering in his eyes. "Today I had to tell a guy it's normal to get a chubby watching thirteen year-old girls." His voice turned hard. "'Just between us guys, pal, we all want a piece of that.' Making friends so he'd bring me into the circle."
"That's your job."
"It's not just words. I can't just recite a kiddie-diddler script."
"You have to feel it." Toby's stomach turned.
"I can talk for as long as you like about the irresistible delights of a thirteen year-old, just how much they want you to touch them while they're still ripe." His jaw clenched. "I'm really good at it. And then I'm supposed to go home and put my arms around Elizabeth. Come here and... look Holly in the eye." Elliot pulled his arm away, desperation creeping into his tone. "The other week I was talking to boys who'd been molested by this one scumbag, and the whole time I was listening, half my mind was trying to figure out what these kids did to lead him on, what their buttons were that he used to seduce them, getting in the perp's head so we could track him down."
"You climb inside the skin of monsters."
"They climb inside me." He grimaced. "I'm better at it than anyone else in the squad. Do you know how many times I've had to empathise with rapists, tell them the bitch deserved it? Tell them college girls wouldn't be drunk and wearing skirts like that if they didn't want some guy to show them a good time? Or I have to get in some prick's face, show him I'm angrier and scarier than he is. And then I come here and eat dinner with you and pretend it isn't all still in my head."
"You can always look me in the eye."
"I shouldn't."
If Elliot had any idea of the things Toby had done... "What happened that got you suspended?"
"I wasn't suspended. Not officially." Elliot sucked in a deep breath. "I lost it. I was supposed to intimidate this prick, this scumbag that raped and beat college girls, and I just.... I went red. I was yelling in his face, didn't even know what I was saying, just suddenly I was being pulled off and he was crying for his lawyer. We could've put him away for life if I'd got a confession. In the end they had to cut a deal, only got him ten years." Guilt soaked his voice.
Toby slid a hand along Elliot's cheek and forced him to look him in the eye. "There are days when nobody knows how hard you're holding yourself back from throttling some worthless piece of humanity. And there are other days when you're dealing with indescribable violence, and you don't feel a damned thing, and you don't know which is worse."
Elliot's eyes were glassy and his lips pressed tight. It took him a long time to turn his nod into a, "Yeah."
"I understand. I've swum through all that shit without any reason as noble as fighting for justice." He laid one hand gently against Elliot's face and wrapped the other tight around his wrist. "That doesn't make you a monster. That makes you human. Everyone's a lot closer than they think. Most of them just haven't been pushed to the edge."
He shook his head. "I don't want you to tell me it's okay."
Toby wished he could. "I'm not going to. But you have to forgive yourself." He pulled Elliot into his arms, let him hide his face in Toby's neck. Elliot's hands were clenched tight between them like he wanted to hit someone, or hold too tight.
"I can't go on the way I have. I'll lose everyone. I've already lost my family-"
"You lost your wife. You still have your kids." And Toby wasn't going anywhere.
"Do I? Dickie and Elizabeth are hardly talking to me. I had another argument with Kathleen a few days ago. I was yelling; she was yelling... I could hear myself but I couldn't... Couldn't just shut my mouth."
Letting all this spill out was probably the best step Elliot had taken yet. "Have you tried talking to her the way you're talking to me?"
"I've tried talking-"
"I mean like this. Stop pretending to be tough for her. You want me to hold you to account? That's what I'm telling you. Step one on your twelve-step program is stop pretending you're angry when you're terrified. Let Kathleen see you're afraid." Toby stroked his hair. "Maybe she'll be strong for you."
Elliot's only answer was a soft snort.
"I won't tell you everything's okay, but I'll help you find your way through it if you let me. You can't scare me."
"I love you, Toby, but I can't stop wondering..."
Those three words again, and a great chasm where Toby was supposed to echo them.
"Do you still see Chris in me?"
"What? No!"
"That's who I see when I look in the mirror."
Toby was going to be undoing this for a long time. "I told you, you're nothing like Chris. You think you're like him because you drive yourself into the ground protecting people? Chris did one selfless act in his entire life." Toby pushed Elliot back to hold his gaze. "If I thought you were like him, you wouldn't be here in my home. Chris had me but he never met Holly or Harry. I never gave him that part of me. I trusted him with me but I never trusted him with my kids."
Toby could see it processing. Elliot didn't completely believe him, but he was listening. "Holly told me I'm not a monster. Just angry."
"You should listen to her. She's smarter than either of us." Toby reached down and squeezed Elliot's hand. "You're may be good with criminals but you talk to victims, too. What you got out of Holly today... Thank you."
"That felt good, getting her to talk." Elliot swallowed. "I like talking to victims. I'm good at that, too."
"I know it better than anyone."
Elliot frowned. "That's not what you are to me. You know that, right? I don't see you that way."
"I know." Toby wondered how far he could push this while Elliot was talking. "El, are you thinking of quitting the force?"
"I don't know."
Toby caught his breath. He'd expected an overly-protesting no. "Or asking for a transfer?"
"I don't know. I've... I've been talking to the counsellor about it. I love my job, but doing what I do... I feel like an alcoholic working in a brewery."
Toby wanted to tell Elliot he was proud of him for following through with the counselling, but he wasn't sure Elliot would take that as a compliment. "Sit on it a while. Maybe just knowing that leaving is an option will help."
"Maybe."
"Whatever you decide, I'll be here."
Elliot gave him a sad smile, and tugged him forward so their foreheads pressed. "I'm glad you are, Toby."
"Me too." He was glad Elliot was here, for him and Holly.
"And you're sexy as hell in your glasses."
Toby snorted.
Elliot pulled Toby against him, slid a leg over Toby's. "Haven't I ever told you that? I've always liked you in your glasses."
Sketch by Haru
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
end chapter 55
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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: 4987
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 55: What good guys do
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 54, Fresh air:
Toby showed up to baby sit Olivia while Elliot was drafted into work. Olivia was surprised, but quickly won over by food and Toby's suggestion of a walk.
Elliot was happy to find Toby and Olivia had bonded, but way more happy when Olivia went to bed so he could do a little bonding of his own. Unfortunately, the tension of Elliot's unexplained suspension and unwillingness to introduce Toby to the kids remained. Toby resolved the latter with an emotional outburst that convinced Elliot to bring his tribe to Vermont for Thanksgiving.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Elliot sat in the car, counting his breaths and flexing his fingers. He hadn't hit anything. Or anyone. He'd forgotten how hard it was, doing this without Olivia. They were short-staffed and backlogged, and he'd spent the day juggling paedophiles and frat boys who argued to his face that being drunk senseless was consent.
He almost didn't come but he couldn't face that empty house tonight, he couldn't inflict this mood on Olivia while she was sick, and he knew if he was left in his own head he'd end up storming over to Kathy's to pick a fight with Kathleen about her drinking. Or to pick a fight with Kathy about Kathleen's drinking. He was going to have to trust Toby would stay out of his face and let him blow off some steam.
He slipped on his woollen cap and climbed out of the car into the bitter cold and slammed the door, cast a long look at the liquor store. He really could have used a couple of beers, but he could hardly drink himself out of this mood in front of an alcoholic. Elliot rubbed his face. God, he was an asshole: he was pissed at Toby for being sober.
He prayed Toby wasn't going to ask how his kids took the news of Vermont. Their cousins were going to Six Flags, and Dickie and Lizzie threw a tantrum over missing out, but he couldn't back out now. Now that Toby had turned walking into this powder keg into some kind of grand proof of Elliot's trust. Elliot wanted to ask Toby why it was up to him to prove himself when Toby couldn't even trust Elliot enough to tell him he loved him.
Elliot was sure he did. Most days he was sure . Surely Toby wouldn't back Elliot into the Thanksgiving from hell if he didn't, but why was it so hard to say? Elliot would have blamed the monster inside him, if Toby hadn't proudly declared his love for a monster more times than Elliot could count.
He had his key in the door when it swung open, Holly looking up at him.
"Holly, I didn't expect..." He slid off his cap. She was supposed to be at her grandmother's. "Where's your dad?"
"At the shops."
"Oh. I should go."
"Why?"
Because he couldn't let Holly see the rage that was battering through his veins, and his skin was crawling being anywhere near her right now. "I don't want to bother you."
She gave him the universal teenage look for 'You're an idiot,' and walked back to the homework spread across the dining table, leaving the door open. "You're not bothering me." This was the friendliest she'd been since Elliot came back into Toby's life, and Elliot just wanted to get away.
Elliot shifted his feet and pumped his fists. Trapped being calm for Holly. Thank god he hadn't punched anyone or anything on the way here, and he didn't have to hide scraped knuckles. He'd had to do that with his own kids more than once, probably hadn't fooled them.
"Dad'll be home in a while." She didn't look up.
He didn't want to come in, but he could hardly turn around and leave now. He came in, closed the door, shrugged off his coat and took his time hanging it up. Thank god he'd left his gun locked up at the station. He couldn't make conversation with an eleven year-old. Could barely have made conversation with Toby. "Do you, do you mind if I just go and lift weights in your dad's room?"
She shrugged. "I don't care."
Thank god.
He walked through. Wanted to shut himself in but that didn't seem polite, so he left the door ajar after he changed, and got to burning away the memories of crying girls and middle-aged creeps and smug fucking frat boys.
Elliot worked his way around the weight bench until his thighs were aching and his arms were trembling. He dropped the barbell in its cradle and felt the burn in his abs as he sat up, panting. He grabbed the towel to wipe the sweat from his face, feeling a little more in control. One very long, hot shower and he'd almost be able to face-
Holly was standing in the doorway, staring. A long, blonde ponytail and serious blue eyes. She could have been there for half an hour for all he knew, but even now, watching each other, she didn't say anything.
It was up to Elliot. He owed her an apology anyway. "I'm sorry."
"Why?"
"For being grumpy when I came in." For wishing she'd go away, now.
"You weren't."
Elliot stayed on the bench, chasing his breath, wondering if Holly wanted to talk or was just curious to watch. Sometimes he didn't know whether he was supposed to talk to her like one of his victims or one of his daughters, but she was finally approaching him, and he had to seize the chance. "How's the homework going?"
"I finished."
"Do you like middle school?"
"It's all right. Did you have a bad day at work?"
"Yeah." He hadn't hidden it that well, then.
"Why?"
Elliot took a long breath. "Sometimes I have to talk to bad guys. Sometimes that's not very nice." It was the simplest explanation he'd found for his kids when they were younger. Simple and neat and not nearly enough to encompass why a few hours undercover left him feeling like he'd dredged through the sewers of his own psyche.
He'd had to walk out of the interrogation room in the middle of threatening one of the frat boys. He hadn't had to be dragged out; maybe that was progress. He'd felt the monster battering inside him, that piece of Chris Keller that wouldn't leave him alone.
Holly was watching, out of questions, but it seemed like she wanted to talk about his temper, and Elliot didn't have that many opportunities to talk to her without Toby around. "I know you think I'm like Stalin or the man who took you, but-"
Her forehead crinkled. "I don't think you're like Hank."
Elliot stopped, surprised.
"Hank was evil. He was a monster. You're just angry."
"Sometimes there isn't a difference."
"It's different."
It was simple as that, for an eleven year-old. Elliot wished he could tell her how much it meant to hear it from her, knowing it wasn't some kind of platitude. At least Holly was holding him responsible for his actions. She had that in common with Kathleen. Sweat was beading on his forehead, so wiped his face again, the back of his neck.
"Is this what you do when you're angry?"
Elliot looked at the weights. "Yeah. Mostly."
"Ling, my counsellor, says that when I'm really angry, I should go and talk to somebody about something else for a while. And then I should talk about the bad thing after I calm down."
Elliot licked his lip. He had to step carefully. "Is there something you want to talk about?"
A few seconds passed, and then she shook her head. There was definitely something.
Elliot leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Are you angry a lot?"
Holly folded her arms, a familiar expression on her face. "My mother killed herself and my brother was murdered and my grandad was murdered and my dad's part crazy. Why would I be angry?"
He almost smiled. "Your dad does that."
"What?"
"Says the terrible things that have happened to him like they're nothing, to shock people. I'm not that easily shocked."
She looked down and shrugged.
"You're a lot better at hiding your anger than I am."
Her nose wrinkled. "You're big and strong and a boy. Nobody thinks you're weird if you're angry a lot."
It took the wind out of him completely. Holly didn't have suspects to shove around, or a boyfriend to punch. What did an eleven year-old girl do with her well-earned rage?
"Holly, did something happen?"
"No." She turned and walked away. Elliot gave her a second's head start and then borrowed a pair of Toby's sweatpants and followed, bringing the towel. The muscles in shoulders were cramping. He was sticky and probably stank, but there wasn't going to be any showering yet.
She was standing in the middle of the living room. Elliot pulled a chair from the table and sat, so he wouldn't loom over her. Be small, be casual, be understanding. "I'll bet sometimes you don't want to tell your dad things, because you don't want to upset him. You know you can talk to me, don't you?"
She shrugged. He waited.
She reached up for her ponytail, and twisted the end in her fingers. "You're coming to Vermont."
"That's right. And my kids. Do you mind?"
A dark look passed across her face, and Elliot braced himself. Finally she said, "I like you better than Harry." That hung there for a moment, and then she let a little smile creep out.
Ahhh. "Thanks." Elliot gave her a little smile back. He'd been bracing himself for another serve on him hitting Toby, or bullying at school, or a new hideous revelation from her past. He could barely speak for relief that it was a familiar problem being dredged up. "You and Harry don't get along, do you?"
"I hate him."
"I haven't met Harry. Is he angry, like me?"
She drifted over to perch on the arm of the couch. "No. He doesn't care."
"He doesn't care about getting along?"
"He doesn't care about anyone. He doesn't care about Dad." She looked around the room, considering. "Do your kids all like each other?"
"They fight sometimes, but they take care of each other, too. They all grew up living in each other's space, playing together, eating together. You and Harry don't have that."
"I had Gary."
Elliot stilled. He had a feeling he was going to be having an incredibly long conversation with Toby tonight. "You and Gary must have been close."
Her fingers dug into the couch, but she kept her chin steady. He could see it was an effort. "He stood up to the mean kids at school."
"Were there a lot of mean kids?" Her silence was enough of an answer. "It sounds like he was a good brother."
"He was the best."
Elliot's gaze drifted to a photo on the wall. Gary and Holly, eight and six years old, cheesy grins for the camera and their arms around each other outside a school. Toby had told him it was the last photo taken of Gary. "Why don't you come and sit down? You can tell me about him."
He could see her teetering, so he reached and pushed the chair out. At last, Holly came and sat with him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Elliot was waiting for it when Toby came back from the bathroom, glasses on, and closed the bedroom door. "All right. Are you going to tell me what the hell was going on with you and Holly tonight?" Last week Holly hadn't stopped glaring at him, and since Toby got home tonight she'd been as shy and awkward as the day they met, right up until she surprised them both by hugging Elliot goodnight, thin arms winding around his neck, sliding away again before Elliot realised the gift he'd got. Toby had stared, wide-eyed. Like he was doing now.
Elliot sat on the bed. "She doesn't want to share Gary. That's why she got so angry that time at the zoo."
Toby kept right on staring. "I don't understand."
"I don't know if you know how close they were while you were inside. They relied on each other. They clung to each other after Genevieve died. Gary protected her from the bullies at school, and he spent the last few days of his life shielding her from Hank Schillinger, and she doesn't want Harry replacing him." She hadn't painted details, but now Elliot had a picture of the eight year-old boy in that photo putting himself between his little sister and a full-grown psycho.
It took Toby a full minute to shut his mouth. "She told you all that?"
"Yeah."
Elliot saw disappointment creep through the surprise. He'd seen it on a hundred parents, after learning second-hand about things their own kids had been afraid to tell them.
"She doesn't want to upset you. But she wants you to know, or she never would have told me."
Holly had never cried as she explained how Hank Schillinger had told her and Gary, right to their faces, that he had taken them to hurt Toby. Holly didn't have the words to explain, but it sounded like the way she saw it, if Toby was broken, Hank won, and she wasn't ever going to let Hank win. She'd told Elliot, 'Hank wasn't angry. He didn't care. His dad paid him to take us because his dad hated our dad.' Elliot had asked her permission for what he could tell Toby. She'd agreed to almost everything but that. Holly was right; it was more than Toby needed to know.
Toby rolled his jaw, and his eyes sparked. "What? There was nothing on TV, so you suddenly decided to play SVU detective with my daughter?"
"It wasn't like that." Talking to kids was Elliot's job, but so was talking to distraught parents. He had a few advantages with Toby. He reached and caught his hand, pulled him closer. "I came over in a mood and you weren't home so I came in here and lifted weights. She came in, she started asking about Vermont and if my kids get along." Holly was right: talking about something else had chased his own anger away. He'd forgotten all about the stress from work. "She hates that her fighting with Harry upsets you, but her loyalty to Gary comes first."
Elliot tugged, and Toby finally sat beside him. "I don't love Gary any less-"
"You hardly need to explain that to me."
Toby stared at the floor. "What did you tell her?"
"I talked about my twins, and how close they are, but how they still have Maureen and Kathleen. Suggested that maybe Harry needed a big sister to look out for him like Holly needed her big brother." He squeezed Toby's hand. "Don't expect any miracles."
Toby was quiet for a long time, so Elliot pushed him over on the bed and curled up behind to hold him, closed his eyes at the unsteady swell of Toby's lungs. Tried to imagine for the hundredth time this year what would be left of him if some scumbag took Dickie away, and left Lizzie broken. Not enough to function the way Toby did.
"She's strong, Toby. A lot of kids - plenty of adults - take that kind of trauma and hide themselves away. Holly's galvanised it into loyalty to her family."
"Harry's her family."
Elliot pressed his face into Toby's hair. "You and Gary and Holly - and your parents - you all weathered it together. That makes one hell of a bond." Toby had to feel it too. Harry had to feel it, had to know he wasn't part of that.
Toby fell quiet. Elliot pressed his nose in his hair and breathed him in, concentrated on the feel of him in his arms.
"She's got a lot of anger."
Toby huffed. "Don't we all?"
It was true. All of them had a little of the beast inside. Holly and Toby had found better ways to deal with theirs. Elliot needed to do the same, stop the endless cycle of rage and guilt.
He'd asked Holly how she fought her anger. She'd told him, "Ling says fighting anger just makes it bigger. She says you have to let it go."
He'd asked, "How do you do that?"
Holly had lifted her chin, smug as anything. "Hank and his dad wanted to hurt my dad. Every time I protect my dad, or hug him, I win."
Elliot had wanted to hug her. Maybe that was what he needed to do. Hug people more often. Keep his family closer.
Elliot breathed Toby's scent as he considered. It mattered that he said this right. "I know you hate that Holly saw you in prison, but it means something that she has that memory of you. Harry wasn't part of that. He still isn't part of rebuilding your life. You see him every couple of months; that's not going to build the relationship you want: not with you, not with Holly."
"It's all I've got."
"It doesn't have to be." Elliot squeezed him to keep him quiet, as his whole body tightened against Elliot's hold. "You're his father, Toby. All you have to do is say the word and you get to see him every day, and he and Holly get to be brother and sister."
"He doesn't want to live with me."
Elliot would never, ever let that get between him and his kids. No matter how difficult Kathleen got, he was never going to walk away. "It's not our job to give kids what they want. We're supposed to do what's best for them."
"What's best for them, not us. He's settled there. He has friends and stability, and Jonah and Marta are the family he's known his whole life. I'm not forcing him to move to New York."
Elliot read the danger rising in his tone, and dropped it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Toby woke suddenly, and alone.
It took a moment to remember Elliot had been here earlier. He felt the other side of the bed, found the sheets cold. Elliot had been telling him about his conversation with Holly, everything Holly had told him about Gary and Hank and all the anger inside her. Toby gritted his teeth. So much damage wreaked on everyone he loved, and every time he tried to look forward, another demon reared its head.
It was so stupid that he hadn't understood her. There'd never been a cross word or any kind of competition between her and Gary when they visited him in Oz. Toby had taken it for granted: them being so much closer in age than him and Angus, best behaviour for special occasions. He'd never thought of it as the two of them against the world. It shouldn't have taken Elliot to tell him that, but thank god for him.
He struggled up on his elbows, cracked his jaw wide on a yawn. He was still in his pants and polo shirt. Elliot must have taken off his glasses; he found them folded neatly on the nightstand.
Light shifted in the crack under the door. Elliot hadn't left. Toby yawned again and pressed himself out of bed, fumbled his glasses on and drunkenly wound his way out to the living room. It was cool out here. Elliot was lounging on the couch in sweatpants and a t-shirt, feet up on the coffee table, lit by the flickering television. Some football game, of course.
Elliot snatched up the remote when he saw him. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"
Toby waved a hand. "I can barely hear it." He dropped into the seat next to Elliot and curled up against him, knees in Elliot's lap, breathing that safe Elliot-scent, grateful for the arm that settled around his shoulders. First thing, he had to undo being such a jerk. "Thanks for taking care of Holly."
"Of course, Toby. I understand."
Of course he did. "It sounds like you're back on her good side."
A moment passed, and Elliot lifted the remote again, dropped the volume to just one bar over mute, nothing but the soft whisper of sibilants. "Yeah. I think so." He shifted under Toby; there was more to say, something on his mind. Toby prayed he hadn't been keeping anything even worse back from that conversation. Elliot's hand played in Toby's hair, trailing down to the nape of his neck, chest vibrating under Toby's cheek as he spoke. "I'm glad it was hard to win Holly's forgiveness. It was right, that she made me earn her trust. I should tell her that."
Toby splayed his hand over Elliot's stomach, waiting.
"I don't want you to be okay with me hitting you."
Toby sucked in a breath. They were really going back to that? "That was months ago. And I never said it was okay. I said I forgave you."
Elliot wouldn't let Toby sit up, so Toby was left watching the two suited, muted commentators on the screen out of the corner of his eye, feeling Elliot's voice rumble against his face. The frame of his glasses was sticking into his nose. "I don't want you to put up with the moods and the excuses Kathy put up with all those years." Toby felt more than heard the swallow. "I pushed her away because I knew if she saw inside me, she wouldn't love me anymore. Sometimes I think... that you loved Chris Keller and that should make me feel safe. You wanted someone darker and uglier than I could ever... so I don't have to be afraid of you seeing who I am. But this... what I'm carrying around; it shouldn't feel safe."
"Elliot..."
"I don't want to just be better than some rapist-murderer you loved in prison. I want to be one of the good guys. I want you to hold me to account, like Holly did."
Elliot comparing himself to Chris was ludicrous. But after what Toby had done to him, it was inevitable. The damage wasn't gone just because Elliot forgave Toby. Toby knew that better than anyone. "So what does a good guy do?"
"What do you mean?"
Toby wished he could see Elliot's face. He rubbed a hand over his stomach, played with the fabric of his t-shirt. "You said you want to be a good guy. Tell me what a good man does."
"He takes care of his family. He protects the weak. Controls his temper."
"Isn't that what you did today?"
"I had to walk out of an interrogation today."
"But you did walk out."
There was a long pause. "Yeah." Elliot's chest swelled beneath him, let go slowly. "A good man does it every day."
Toby wasn't going to get inside unless Elliot really started talking. He pushed against Elliot's grip and turned until he could see his profile. "Tell me what's been going on at work."
Elliot stared blindly at the game, reflection flickering in his eyes. "Today I had to tell a guy it's normal to get a chubby watching thirteen year-old girls." His voice turned hard. "'Just between us guys, pal, we all want a piece of that.' Making friends so he'd bring me into the circle."
"That's your job."
"It's not just words. I can't just recite a kiddie-diddler script."
"You have to feel it." Toby's stomach turned.
"I can talk for as long as you like about the irresistible delights of a thirteen year-old, just how much they want you to touch them while they're still ripe." His jaw clenched. "I'm really good at it. And then I'm supposed to go home and put my arms around Elizabeth. Come here and... look Holly in the eye." Elliot pulled his arm away, desperation creeping into his tone. "The other week I was talking to boys who'd been molested by this one scumbag, and the whole time I was listening, half my mind was trying to figure out what these kids did to lead him on, what their buttons were that he used to seduce them, getting in the perp's head so we could track him down."
"You climb inside the skin of monsters."
"They climb inside me." He grimaced. "I'm better at it than anyone else in the squad. Do you know how many times I've had to empathise with rapists, tell them the bitch deserved it? Tell them college girls wouldn't be drunk and wearing skirts like that if they didn't want some guy to show them a good time? Or I have to get in some prick's face, show him I'm angrier and scarier than he is. And then I come here and eat dinner with you and pretend it isn't all still in my head."
"You can always look me in the eye."
"I shouldn't."
If Elliot had any idea of the things Toby had done... "What happened that got you suspended?"
"I wasn't suspended. Not officially." Elliot sucked in a deep breath. "I lost it. I was supposed to intimidate this prick, this scumbag that raped and beat college girls, and I just.... I went red. I was yelling in his face, didn't even know what I was saying, just suddenly I was being pulled off and he was crying for his lawyer. We could've put him away for life if I'd got a confession. In the end they had to cut a deal, only got him ten years." Guilt soaked his voice.
Toby slid a hand along Elliot's cheek and forced him to look him in the eye. "There are days when nobody knows how hard you're holding yourself back from throttling some worthless piece of humanity. And there are other days when you're dealing with indescribable violence, and you don't feel a damned thing, and you don't know which is worse."
Elliot's eyes were glassy and his lips pressed tight. It took him a long time to turn his nod into a, "Yeah."
"I understand. I've swum through all that shit without any reason as noble as fighting for justice." He laid one hand gently against Elliot's face and wrapped the other tight around his wrist. "That doesn't make you a monster. That makes you human. Everyone's a lot closer than they think. Most of them just haven't been pushed to the edge."
He shook his head. "I don't want you to tell me it's okay."
Toby wished he could. "I'm not going to. But you have to forgive yourself." He pulled Elliot into his arms, let him hide his face in Toby's neck. Elliot's hands were clenched tight between them like he wanted to hit someone, or hold too tight.
"I can't go on the way I have. I'll lose everyone. I've already lost my family-"
"You lost your wife. You still have your kids." And Toby wasn't going anywhere.
"Do I? Dickie and Elizabeth are hardly talking to me. I had another argument with Kathleen a few days ago. I was yelling; she was yelling... I could hear myself but I couldn't... Couldn't just shut my mouth."
Letting all this spill out was probably the best step Elliot had taken yet. "Have you tried talking to her the way you're talking to me?"
"I've tried talking-"
"I mean like this. Stop pretending to be tough for her. You want me to hold you to account? That's what I'm telling you. Step one on your twelve-step program is stop pretending you're angry when you're terrified. Let Kathleen see you're afraid." Toby stroked his hair. "Maybe she'll be strong for you."
Elliot's only answer was a soft snort.
"I won't tell you everything's okay, but I'll help you find your way through it if you let me. You can't scare me."
"I love you, Toby, but I can't stop wondering..."
Those three words again, and a great chasm where Toby was supposed to echo them.
"Do you still see Chris in me?"
"What? No!"
"That's who I see when I look in the mirror."
Toby was going to be undoing this for a long time. "I told you, you're nothing like Chris. You think you're like him because you drive yourself into the ground protecting people? Chris did one selfless act in his entire life." Toby pushed Elliot back to hold his gaze. "If I thought you were like him, you wouldn't be here in my home. Chris had me but he never met Holly or Harry. I never gave him that part of me. I trusted him with me but I never trusted him with my kids."
Toby could see it processing. Elliot didn't completely believe him, but he was listening. "Holly told me I'm not a monster. Just angry."
"You should listen to her. She's smarter than either of us." Toby reached down and squeezed Elliot's hand. "You're may be good with criminals but you talk to victims, too. What you got out of Holly today... Thank you."
"That felt good, getting her to talk." Elliot swallowed. "I like talking to victims. I'm good at that, too."
"I know it better than anyone."
Elliot frowned. "That's not what you are to me. You know that, right? I don't see you that way."
"I know." Toby wondered how far he could push this while Elliot was talking. "El, are you thinking of quitting the force?"
"I don't know."
Toby caught his breath. He'd expected an overly-protesting no. "Or asking for a transfer?"
"I don't know. I've... I've been talking to the counsellor about it. I love my job, but doing what I do... I feel like an alcoholic working in a brewery."
Toby wanted to tell Elliot he was proud of him for following through with the counselling, but he wasn't sure Elliot would take that as a compliment. "Sit on it a while. Maybe just knowing that leaving is an option will help."
"Maybe."
"Whatever you decide, I'll be here."
Elliot gave him a sad smile, and tugged him forward so their foreheads pressed. "I'm glad you are, Toby."
"Me too." He was glad Elliot was here, for him and Holly.
"And you're sexy as hell in your glasses."
Toby snorted.
Elliot pulled Toby against him, slid a leg over Toby's. "Haven't I ever told you that? I've always liked you in your glasses."
Sketch by Haru
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
end chapter 55
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