Worth

A/N: This is my very first SVU fic, and I'll admit that I haven't seen every single episode. In fact, after Meloni left, so did I. Major E/O shipper here! I've seen a few of the new episodes, but I prefer to set my story in the past, say season 7-ish. No spoilers. Definitely pre-Fault.

The cleaning lady muttered to herself, complaining about the colossal mess the party goers had left in their wake. She hated working the overnight shift, but this gig at the Palisade Banquet Hall paid time and a half, and with minimum wage being so low, she needed the cash. She dunked the heavy mop again and again in the bright yellow plastic pail, and pressed out the excess water. She was tired, her shoulders hurt from mopping and scrubbing and bending down to clean toilets. The high school prom had ended late, well after midnight and it was almost two in the morning now. She had four more toilet stalls to go, then the rest of the bathroom floor. She sighed, opened the stall door, completely unprepared for the sight that greeted her. A pool of dark, sticky blood coated the floor and the toilet seat. A clearer, watery liquid surrounded the blood. Her pulse accelerated and she swallowed hard as she peered into the toilet. The high pitched shriek that erupted from her throat of its own accord startled her and she fell back, unable to accept what she was seeing.

The insistent sound of her cell phone pierced through Detective Olivia Benson's sleep. She groaned and squinted at her alarm clock. Three eleven in the morning. Her eyes stung from lack of sleep but she understood her duty well. She and Elliot were on call.

"Benson," she answered the phone, stifling a loud yawn.

"Sorry to wake you, Liv. We caught a case. I'm downstairs." Elliot sounded apologetic and weary. If he was already downstairs, it meant he'd driven all the way from Queens before calling her. She threw on a pair of jeans, a long sleeved cotton shirt, secured her holster beneath her leather jacket and ran down the stairs, out her building to the dark sedan parked in front.

"Hey," she greeted him as she slid into the passenger seat. "Thanks for letting me have extra sleep while you drove here." He acknowledged her words with a nod of his head but said nothing.

"What'd we catch?" she asked, noting his subdued demeanor. Elliot Stabler was strong, mentally and physically with plenty of field experience. He didn't usually react before arriving on the scene. He put the car into drive and said nothing for a few moments. She knew better than to rush him.

"The victim is a baby," he said in a low voice. "A dead newborn baby, found in a toilet." He cleared his throat and sniffed loudly.

"Oh." Olivia felt a familiar sickening squeeze in her lower gut, the one she always got when their cases involved children. Despite everything she'd seen on the job, the darkness that sometimes threatened to overwhelm her, the twisted evil of perps, the violence, and the gore, she was able to compartmentalize her work. But when the vic was a kid, all bets were off. She knew Elliot was the same way. Being a father made these cases extra difficult for him, but for her, it was her childlessness. When a child was murdered, her deep longing mother-heart simply cracked.

"Palisade Banquet Hall. Senior Prom. Cleaning lady found … it." His staccato words like little bullets of information, shot into the car's quiet interior.

"A prom? You mean a girl gave birth on a toilet during her prom?" Olivia asked incredulously.

"That's a supposition. Let's hold off on those for now." Elliot went quiet again and focused on the drive. He didn't speak for the rest of the trip, and Liv gave him this silence, this time for him to bolster his strength. She also needed to prep for their imminent arrival on the scene.

When they arrived, Melinda was already there in the tiny bathroom stall, her crouched pose hiding the victim. Olivia stood by and looked to Elliot. He was pale and in no hurry to see the body either.

"What, um, what happened, Melinda?" Liv asked, her small voice echoing in the cavernous bathroom.

Melinda drew a deep breath before standing and facing the detectives. When she stood, the tiny baby's body came into view. Olivia gasped and Elliot closed his eyes. The newborn girl was blue and delicate, fragile really. Her translucent skin couldn't hide the veins and arteries beneath. But she was perfect, ten fingers and ten toes, a tiny rosebud mouth and a soft patch of reddish hair on her pale head.

"Full term baby, six pounds, four ounces, born alive. She drowned in the toilet," Melinda explained. "Based on lividity, I'd say time of death occurred within the last five hours." She shook her head sadly. "This baby was in perfect health. I'm calling it a homicide, pending full autopsy results."

"Five hours ago, the prom was in full swing," Elliot said. "How on earth did a pregnant girl give birth at her prom? Didn't anybody notice?"

"Probably a concealed pregnancy," Liv observed. She crouched down, and stared at the tiny girl, studying her in detail, venerating her appearance to memory, for she knew this baby would soon be buried and nobody would claim her. She clenched her fists. Olivia wanted nothing more than to have a baby of her own; the craving was borne of her very soul. She dreamt about being pregnant, about holding a sweet newborn, and was acutely aware of her dwindling time. At thirty-eight, the biological clock had ceased to chime and was now clanging wildly in a discordant cacophony. She couldn't shut it up even if she tried. Through blurry tears, she cast her gaze upon the baby one last time and swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Liv, you okay?" Elliot asked, though he could see she wasn't.

"I'm fine." Olivia looked away from her partner's piercing blue gaze. "We're going to have to interview the prom goers and find out who was pregnant. Then we're going to …"

"Liv! It's three in the morning. I think it can hold until tomorrow," Elliot said, his voice gentle and calm.

"I still have to perform a full autopsy to confirm my suspicions about the drowning," Melinda chimed in. "It's an educated guess but I need to ensure that her lungs contain water. I'll call you guys with my final results later this morning. The unis are collecting evidence; they're almost done."

"So that's it? We just go home?" Olivia gritted her teeth against the feeling of helplessness.

"Cribs for me. Not driving all the way back to Queens just to get stuck in traffic later. But I can drop you back home, Liv. Try and get a few hours' sleep before work, okay?"

"Sleep? As if," she mumbled. There was no way in hell she was going to sleep now. She couldn't get the dead baby's image out of her head.

"Yeah, sleep. C'mon." Olivia stood fused to the floor, not moving for a long moment. Elliot finally placed his hand on the small of her back to steer her out of the bathroom. He rarely touched her and she flinched at the unfamiliar sensation. "Sorry," he muttered.

"I'm not going home," she declared. She didn't want to be alone with the horrifying images of this crime. She didn't want to pretend to sleep.

"Cribs too?"

"Yeah."

He nodded at her. "Let's go."

The next morning, a full investigation was underway. After Warner confirmed that the baby had indeed been born alive and drowned in the toilet, Cragen ordered Benson and Stabler to interview the students from the prom. They were from an all girls' Catholic school, Sorrowful Virgin. He called the school for assistance and asked them to gather all of the students in the school auditorium, not an easy task on the Saturday morning following prom.

The detectives pulled up to Sorrowful Virgin, just north of Manhattan. Olivia took in the gothic grey building, its perfectly manicured garden and the majestic fir trees on either side. "Swanky place," she commented.

"I wanted to send Maureen here but the tuition is almost twenty grand a year," Elliot replied. "You'd think all those nuns breathing down their necks would have prevented a pregnancy, hmf."

Olivia's eyes widened. She didn't want to get into it with Elliot, but she seriously believed that a lack of proper sex education and the veneration of a Virginal figurehead wasn't helping anything in terms of pregnancy prevention. She couldn't even begin to understand Catholicism but she respected the fact that it was an important part of her partner's life. So she kept her musings to herself.

As they exited the car and began to head up the steps to the front entrance, he stopped her. "You didn't get any sleep in the cribs, did you?"

Olivia shook her head. She'd tried to sleep, had lain down in the bunk across from Elliot's and observed his deep, even breathing, jealous of his ability to sleep so soundly after such a disturbing find. "Not a wink." She pushed past him toward the school entrance.

"Hey, Liv, wait," he ran after her and stopped in front of her. "Cases with kids … you know they're the hardest. So, if you need a break …" he trailed off, uncertain now because Liv had pushed past him and continued up the steps.

"El, we have to interview those kids. I can do my job."

"I know that, Olivia. I got your back, okay?" She paused and nodded her head.

"And I've got yours. Let's go."

The school gymnasium was filled with hung-over, exhausted, and resentful teenagers. Some of them were still in their prom clothes, not having had a chance to go home and change before being summoned on their cell phones. Olivia looked at the pale faces, some streaked with mascara, and all with scowls.

"I'm detective Olivia Benson and this is my partner Elliot Stabler. We asked you to come this morning because we need to speak to you about a crime that occurred. A crime that happened during your prom. A murder." She paused for emphasis and observed the girls' expressions, looking for that one face to betray itself. She couldn't find it. Scowls had now morphed into curiosity and surprise and whispers of confusion emanated from the group before her.

"Murder?" An Asian girl asked. "Are you saying somebody was murdered at our prom?"

"Yes. Anybody know anything about that?" Elliot probed, not yet willing to disclose the victim's identity. He too was seeking that one guilty face. But all the kids standing before him were too shocked and horrified to appear guilty.

"Oh my god!" another girl shrieked. "Where's Tess? Guys, Tess isn't here. Was it Tess?"

Murmurs in the crowd grew louder with more kids asking where Tess was. The din reached a crescendo and some of the kids were beginning to freak out.

Olivia clapped her hands to get their attention. "Ahem, what can you tell me about Tess? When was the last time you saw her?"

The kids all began speaking over each other, at once and the detectives couldn't make any sense of what they were saying.

"Ok, everybody quiet!" Elliot shouted. "Who can tell me about Tess? She got a best friend?"

Nobody moved. Then a voice from the back said, "You need to ask Rachel."

"Alright, which one of you is Rachel?" Olivia asked. Nobody moved. "Rachel? Is Rachel here?"

"That's Rachel," a girl said, and pointed to a tiny brunette hidden in the back of the room. Rachel shirked back and stared at her shoes. Her face was flushed and worried. Olivia approached her slowly and confirmed her identity. "Are you Rachel?" she asked. Rachel nodded.

"Is Tess dead?" she croaked, tears beginning to form in her eyes. She looked at Olivia pleadingly. "Please, tell me she's okay."

"Tess isn't our victim," Olivia replied. "Was she at prom last night?"

"Yeah, she and I went together," Rachel said. "But, she had a stomach ache and went home early. I offered to go with her, but she wanted me to stay and have fun. Not that it was any fun after she left."

"Ok, that's helpful Rachel," Olivia told the scared young girl. She moved Rachel away from the other girls into the relative privacy of the hallway. Elliot followed and motioned to the others to stay where they were.

"At about what time would you say Tess had a stomach ache?"

"Uh. .it was after the food. Tess didn't eat much of the dinner. She said she felt sick and had to go to the bathroom," Rachel told Olivia.

"Did you go with her?"

"At first, I went to see if she was okay but she told me to leave because she needed to, um, needed to go, you know, number two, and she didn't want me there."

"And did she return to your table afterwards?"

"No. She texted me from the john to say she had been sick and needed to go home. She said I should stay. She was gonna call her mom to pick her up."

"Rachel, I want you to think very hard, okay. Did Tess seem at all different to you? Had she gained any weight recently? Changed the way she dressed? Behaved oddly?"

Rachel blinked hard and hid her face in her hands. "How'd you know?" came the muffled reply.

Elliot and Olivia pulled up to Tess Morgan's house, an elegant two story brownstone. They rang the doorbell and waited. A middle-aged woman opened the door, her face sporting worry lines and her clothes somewhat rumpled. "Yes? May I help you?"

"We're detectives Benson and Stabler," Elliot said by way of introduction as he held out his badge.

"What is this concerning?" The woman appeared very alarmed and kept checking behind her. She let herself out rather than inviting the detectives inside.

"Are you Tess' mother?" Olivia asked.

The woman nodded and her distress level went up about three notches. "Tess? Why are you here about Tess?"

"We'd like to speak with her. It pertains to an event that occurred during her prom last night."

Tess' mother shook her head. "Tess came home early. She became violently ill during her prom. Food poisoning. I had to pick her up before ten. You can't speak with her; she's resting."

Elliot spoke up. "Ma'am, I'm sorry but we're going to have to disturb your daughter. She might have information pertinent to a crime. Has she turned eighteen yet?"

"Yes, she turned eighteen last April. Why? What's going on? I have a sick girl upstairs and she needs me. She missed half of her prom; what information can she possibly have for you?"

"Please, Mrs. Morgan. We only need to ask her a few questions. It's very important," Olivia pleaded. She gave the woman a sympathetic smile and tried to appear as harmless as possible.

"Well alright, but I'm staying with you. Let me check on her first," the woman said begrudgingly. She re-entered her house but didn't hold the door open for the detectives. They had to catch it before it slammed in their faces. They looked at each other and Elliot shook his head. He didn't need to be told when he wasn't welcome. They followed Mrs. Morgan up the stairs, and waited behind Tess' bedroom door until her mother opened the door to them.

"Please be quick; she's very uncomfortable. She's been vomiting throughout the night."

Olivia was concerned and wanted a chance to speak to the girl alone. She stepped into the overtly childish room, taking in the teddy bears and porcelain dolls on display. Tess lay pale and weak, bright red curls spilling over her pink frilly pillow. "Hi Tess, my name is Olivia." Behind her back, she held her hand up, signalling Elliot to stay where he was at the door's threshold. She wanted him to keep the mother back too.

"Are you a nurse?" Tess asked.

"No, I'm a detective. Do you need a nurse, Tess?"

Tess moaned and Olivia noticed the sheen of perspiration on the girl's whiter than white face. She reached her hand and touched Tess' forehead. It was warm. "Are you bleeding heavily?" she asked the girl quietly so her mother wouldn't hear. Tess gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head.

"So much," she whispered. "It's a bad period."

"Actually, I think it might be a post-partum hemorrhage," Olivia whispered, not without sympathy. Tess began to cry.

"Did you give birth during your prom?" Olivia probed. Tess shook her head and looked away, tears streaming out the corners of her eyes. She blinked hard and wiped her face.

"What's going on in there?" Mrs. Morgan pushed past Elliot and tried to get close to her daughter. "What are you two whispering about? Tess, are you okay sweetie?"

"Please, Mrs. Morgan, just one moment …"

"But she's crying … you made my daughter cry!" Tess' outraged mother stomped into the room and pulled Olivia away from the bedside.

"Ma'am, please call an ambulance. Your daughter needs to be seen by a doctor. She's hemorrhaging and she's running a fever. I'm concerned about infection." Olivia raised her voice so the woman would react. "Now!"

Elliot ushered the mother out of the room and to a telephone, giving Olivia a chance to interview the girl without interference.

"Tess, please. If you've just given birth, you need medical attention." She took the girl's limp hand in her own and squeezed. "Hey, you're going to be okay. We're getting you the help you need."

"No!" Tess shouted. "No, they can't see. You don't understand. Please," she whimpered.

"Shhhh, we know Tess. We know. We found her. . your baby. Why, Tess? Why didn't you get help? Why didn't you tell anybody?" Olivia blinked away the image of the dead baby girl in the bathroom and refocused her attention on the terrified girl in the bed.

"Nobody knew. Nobody knew I was pregnant. I just couldn't …." Tess trailed off, crying harder now. She pressed her palms against her leaking eyes and continued to sob. "I didn't mean it. Please, I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it. That thing had to come out. . it hurt. . it hurt so much." Tess went quiet for a moment and asked with true curiosity, "Did it live?"

Olivia shook her head sadly. "No, Tess. She's not alive. You left her in the toilet. Why, why did you do that?"

Tess looked at Olivia, eyes red from crying, green irises brilliant with shiny tears. "I thought if I pretended it hadn't happened, it wouldn't be real. She couldn't be real. She was no good. . not supposed to be. Olivia, she was an evil thing growing inside of me. But abortion is wrong; that's what they keep telling me at school. How can it be wrong if the thing was evil?"

"Evil? How could a baby be evil?" Olivia asked.

"Because evil made her," Tess gasped. "I was raped. I hated her. . hated her. . hated her. . and I didn't want her. The monster put her inside of me. . he's a monster!"

Olivia stared, unable to move, blink or even breathe. The air in the room became suffocating and she felt her lungs compress unable to draw breath. She looked at Tess, aghast. She opened her mouth to speak but words failed her. She was now dealing with a rape victim who had committed a homicide. Murdered her own baby born of rape. Liv shut her eyes and drew shallow painful breaths into her constricted lungs. Victim, murderess, images of a dead newborn baby lying on a cold tile floor, so perfect, so beautiful. Evil? Innocent? In that moment, it all came rushing at her, a dreadful tidal wave of existential crisis, the blood pounding in her ears, threatening to devastate her.

"El," she called, seeking an anchor in the storm. "El. . .come."