title: control
author: duck
rating: pg-13. the vaguely safe for the kiddies version. still discusses rape, just not as explicit as the version you can find on svufiction.com
summary: "all the world has closed her eyes/tired faith all worn and thin/for all we could have done/and all that could have been"
author note: hang on for duck's rollercoaster o' angst, folks. you must be this tall to ride. and if your name is kukrae then you are a goddess for helping me get through the difficulties of writing this.
disclaimer: not mine, and for once i'm happy about it. it's like being a grandparent; when they start to cry you can give them back.
-----
"Tell me about what happened."
"Where do you want me to start?"
"The morning of the crime."
"Okay." He pulls a deep breath into his lungs, letting the soothing touch of fresh oxygen drown his fears. He meets Alex's eyes and she is soft and encouraging. They've never seen eye-to-eye on most things, he and Alex, but she is here now supporting him. He looks into each of the twelve juror's faces. They are all expectant, blank and void of emotion.
It seems fitting that he should confess his sins at last in a courtroom. The waiting audience is prepared to damn him what he's done, though the law has released him from his crimes.
Elliot Stabler, rapist.
He tries the title out in his mind. He hates himself for what he's become. The self-loathing simmers underneath the skin of his emotions, ever-present. They expect a story.
"It was a normal day," he begins. "As normal as it gets at SVU."
"Could you explain for the record what you do?" He's been through this a hundred times with Alex.
"I'm a detective with the Special Victims Unit," he explains. "We investigate sexually motivated crimes, crimes against children, the elderly, cases of that nature."
"So this call was like any other?"
"Yes. They said they had a guy whose story we had to hear. My partner, Olivia Benson, and I left to go to the hospital. Once we heard what had happened to him, we called Detectives Munch and Tutuola to come in and aid with the investigation." He halts waiting for her question.
"And what was his story?"
"That a man had kidnapped him and his secretary and forced them to engage in sexual acts. They had both been reported missing a week earlier and she was married. The original detectives thought they'd run off together."
"We've already heard all the specifics of his case, so if you could just move along to what you did next?" Alex is standing casually in front of him now. She leaves the jury's view of his face unobstructed. He knows she will stay there for the rest of his statement. He always cries at the same spot.
"Olivia and I went to investigate the place they had been dumped. It was this trash heap of a warehouse down by the docks. There were ten other warehouses in the immediate vicinity, so we decided to canvas them."
"And where were the other two detectives at this point?"
"They were the hospital, talking to the secretary. She'd been pretty badly beaten, but she'd regained consciousness after we left."
"Why didn't you call for back-up while exploring the warehouses?" Alex asks, her cool demeanor still firmly in place. He knows she will cry too, even if only a little. She is their friend and she feels their pain deeper than she shows now.
"We didn't expect to find anything. We didn't think the perp would be dumb enough to dump them so close to his place." He feels his throat constrict slightly. "We were both knocked unconscious at the third one." This is where it gets harder. He has to face what he did in front of a room full of people. It is harder even than what he has to face in his dreams. He's given up on sleep long ago, and he knows his face has the haunted look of a man who's condemned himself already.
"Where were you when you woke up?" Alex's face is full of sympathy. She knows he hates this part.
"I was tied in a bed," he says quietly. He stops.
"I know this is hard, Elliot," Alex soothes.
"I was naked."
"Was there anyone else in the room?"
"Yes," he says simply.
"Who?"
"Olivia." His eyes close and he sees it again. The room is dark except for windows set high in the ceiling. They throw off a dank light and it casts a pallor on the scene before him. "She's handcuffed around me."
"What did you do?"
He can see himself nudging her with his chin, calling her name softly. "I woke her up. I was on top of her with my arms and legs tied to each bed post with a thick rope. We tried to shift positions but we couldn't move." They both struggle against their bonds but to no avail. She tells him to calm down, that it will be okay.
"How would you best describe your position?"
"Very sexual."
"What happened then?" He opens his eyes at the slight crack in Alex's voice. She knows the worst is upon them.
"A man with a mask on came into the room." Cruel eyes leer through the black ski mask. "He had a gun." Mine? "I thought it was mine."
"Was it?"
"Yes."
"How did you know?"
"Because he told me that if I didn't rape her, he'd shoot her with my own gun." In his mind's eye he struggles at the ropes, threatening death. The man laughs and points the gun at her. The sight of it freezes him in terror. Not Olivia. Not her. Point it at me and I will tell you to go to hell.
He wishes she was here. Her own testimony is scheduled for that afternoon. He wants to face her. Wants to hear her condemnation, see it in her eyes.
"Did you?"
"Not at first. Because of our position it was easy to get between the gun and her." He moves to cover Liv completely. The laughter at his efforts rings in his head.
"What did he do then?" He knows the hurt in Alex's voice is for them.
"He laughed and put the gun against the top of her head." He breaks away from Alex's face and stares at the wood of the witness box in front of him. Buried in memory he can see her lips moving, talking to him, reassuring him, loving him. "She told me to do it. That it wasn't my fault." He pauses and can feel the tears starting to well up.
"I've, ah, seen a lot in my years at SVU," he says, his voice scratchy. "I've managed to insulate myself from it. But this...this was the worst experience of my life." And it still plays in his head. He is whispering apologies even then.
"I have to ask, Elliot..." Alex starts.
"Yes I raped her," he says fiercely, hot tears spilling over. He jabs at them angrily with the palm of his hand, then lets his hands rest there over his eyes.
"I'll never forgive myself and I don't expect anyone else to either." His heart has broken in his chest. It shreds his insides with guilt. He cannot live with this; the weight of it pushes down on his soul.
"Olivia forgives you," Alex murmurs before she continues. He looks up and sees a single tear at the corner of her eye before she wipes it away and returns to her professional mode. "What was the man doing then?"
He bows his head and closes his eyes again.
"He was getting off on it." His voice is angry, bitter, filled with hate. What has he become? He cannot look at the defense table for fear of losing control and screaming his hate for the courtroom to hear. Look at what you've done, he wants to scream. Look at my shell of a life. Look at what I did because of you.
Alex's voice cuts across his thoughts. "What happened after he forced you to rape your partner?"
"He threw a blanket over us and left. We fell asleep after a couple hours." Guilt was eating away like acid inside his chest. She is speaking soft words of encouragement, but he cannot hear her. He is mumbling I'm sorry over and over again into her neck. The endless mantra burns itself on his mind as the words tumble out.
"What?" Alex asks, leaning in closer to him.
"Nothing," he says, realizing he was saying it aloud.
"When did you wake up?"
"We woke up to shouts and banging," he continues, his shoulders slumped. "John and Fin had gotten concerned when we hadn't called back in. They found out we'd been investigating the warehouses and brought in several teams of uniformed officers to help search."
He feels a fresh wave of embarrassment as he sees John and Fin burst into the room. The expressions of horror on their faces suggest they won't be comfortable in the other pair's presence for a while. No doubt that ridiculous betting pool will be scuttled.
"Just for the record, Elliot," Alex says. "When you left the room, who did the officers have in custody?"
"The defendant." He still refuses to look, can't lose control. "They had just subdued him and were in the process of taking his mask off."
"Thank you, Elliot. No further questions your honor." Alex strides confidently back to her table. The defense lawyer rises for the cross-examination. Elliot knows he will ask the horrible questions, making him go into excruciating detail about the rape, the circumstances surrounding it, everything.
"Were you and your partner having sex before the incident?"
Elliot's jaw drops as Alex leaps back to her feet to shout her objection. This is not what he was expecting. He sees the judge measure up the lawyer out of the corner of his eye. "What is your aim here, Mr. Dayton?"
The weasel actually smiles. "I merely wish to ascertain if the detectives were previously engaged in a consensual sexual relationship. If so then I submit this was not in fact a rape. May I remind the court that we are not contesting the charges of kidnapping, torture and theft, only the two counts of rape."
This is the only time he's ever felt relief over the night they decided to wait. "I'm perfectly fine answering, your honor, because the answer is no. Your argument doesn't hold anyway."
"Really? Define rape. As a Special Victims detective I'm sure you're perfectly qualified." Elliot ignores the hidden insult.
"There are many forms," he says. "The most common is where one person says 'no' but the other person forces them into sex anyway." Think of it clinically, disassociate. "In our case we both were forced to engage in sex by an external person."
"But you said your partner told you to have sex with her."
He feels dumbfounded. She had actually. But under duress; she'd had his gun pointed at her head.
"She had a gun--"
"No further questions your honor."
His hands clench into fists of rage, but he can do no more good--or damage--here. His anger has washed away his feelings of self-hatred for now, and he allows himself to be led out of the courtroom, finally looking at the defendant who sits smugly in his chair. He wants to smash his face in.
[tbc]
author: duck
rating: pg-13. the vaguely safe for the kiddies version. still discusses rape, just not as explicit as the version you can find on svufiction.com
summary: "all the world has closed her eyes/tired faith all worn and thin/for all we could have done/and all that could have been"
author note: hang on for duck's rollercoaster o' angst, folks. you must be this tall to ride. and if your name is kukrae then you are a goddess for helping me get through the difficulties of writing this.
disclaimer: not mine, and for once i'm happy about it. it's like being a grandparent; when they start to cry you can give them back.
-----
"Tell me about what happened."
"Where do you want me to start?"
"The morning of the crime."
"Okay." He pulls a deep breath into his lungs, letting the soothing touch of fresh oxygen drown his fears. He meets Alex's eyes and she is soft and encouraging. They've never seen eye-to-eye on most things, he and Alex, but she is here now supporting him. He looks into each of the twelve juror's faces. They are all expectant, blank and void of emotion.
It seems fitting that he should confess his sins at last in a courtroom. The waiting audience is prepared to damn him what he's done, though the law has released him from his crimes.
Elliot Stabler, rapist.
He tries the title out in his mind. He hates himself for what he's become. The self-loathing simmers underneath the skin of his emotions, ever-present. They expect a story.
"It was a normal day," he begins. "As normal as it gets at SVU."
"Could you explain for the record what you do?" He's been through this a hundred times with Alex.
"I'm a detective with the Special Victims Unit," he explains. "We investigate sexually motivated crimes, crimes against children, the elderly, cases of that nature."
"So this call was like any other?"
"Yes. They said they had a guy whose story we had to hear. My partner, Olivia Benson, and I left to go to the hospital. Once we heard what had happened to him, we called Detectives Munch and Tutuola to come in and aid with the investigation." He halts waiting for her question.
"And what was his story?"
"That a man had kidnapped him and his secretary and forced them to engage in sexual acts. They had both been reported missing a week earlier and she was married. The original detectives thought they'd run off together."
"We've already heard all the specifics of his case, so if you could just move along to what you did next?" Alex is standing casually in front of him now. She leaves the jury's view of his face unobstructed. He knows she will stay there for the rest of his statement. He always cries at the same spot.
"Olivia and I went to investigate the place they had been dumped. It was this trash heap of a warehouse down by the docks. There were ten other warehouses in the immediate vicinity, so we decided to canvas them."
"And where were the other two detectives at this point?"
"They were the hospital, talking to the secretary. She'd been pretty badly beaten, but she'd regained consciousness after we left."
"Why didn't you call for back-up while exploring the warehouses?" Alex asks, her cool demeanor still firmly in place. He knows she will cry too, even if only a little. She is their friend and she feels their pain deeper than she shows now.
"We didn't expect to find anything. We didn't think the perp would be dumb enough to dump them so close to his place." He feels his throat constrict slightly. "We were both knocked unconscious at the third one." This is where it gets harder. He has to face what he did in front of a room full of people. It is harder even than what he has to face in his dreams. He's given up on sleep long ago, and he knows his face has the haunted look of a man who's condemned himself already.
"Where were you when you woke up?" Alex's face is full of sympathy. She knows he hates this part.
"I was tied in a bed," he says quietly. He stops.
"I know this is hard, Elliot," Alex soothes.
"I was naked."
"Was there anyone else in the room?"
"Yes," he says simply.
"Who?"
"Olivia." His eyes close and he sees it again. The room is dark except for windows set high in the ceiling. They throw off a dank light and it casts a pallor on the scene before him. "She's handcuffed around me."
"What did you do?"
He can see himself nudging her with his chin, calling her name softly. "I woke her up. I was on top of her with my arms and legs tied to each bed post with a thick rope. We tried to shift positions but we couldn't move." They both struggle against their bonds but to no avail. She tells him to calm down, that it will be okay.
"How would you best describe your position?"
"Very sexual."
"What happened then?" He opens his eyes at the slight crack in Alex's voice. She knows the worst is upon them.
"A man with a mask on came into the room." Cruel eyes leer through the black ski mask. "He had a gun." Mine? "I thought it was mine."
"Was it?"
"Yes."
"How did you know?"
"Because he told me that if I didn't rape her, he'd shoot her with my own gun." In his mind's eye he struggles at the ropes, threatening death. The man laughs and points the gun at her. The sight of it freezes him in terror. Not Olivia. Not her. Point it at me and I will tell you to go to hell.
He wishes she was here. Her own testimony is scheduled for that afternoon. He wants to face her. Wants to hear her condemnation, see it in her eyes.
"Did you?"
"Not at first. Because of our position it was easy to get between the gun and her." He moves to cover Liv completely. The laughter at his efforts rings in his head.
"What did he do then?" He knows the hurt in Alex's voice is for them.
"He laughed and put the gun against the top of her head." He breaks away from Alex's face and stares at the wood of the witness box in front of him. Buried in memory he can see her lips moving, talking to him, reassuring him, loving him. "She told me to do it. That it wasn't my fault." He pauses and can feel the tears starting to well up.
"I've, ah, seen a lot in my years at SVU," he says, his voice scratchy. "I've managed to insulate myself from it. But this...this was the worst experience of my life." And it still plays in his head. He is whispering apologies even then.
"I have to ask, Elliot..." Alex starts.
"Yes I raped her," he says fiercely, hot tears spilling over. He jabs at them angrily with the palm of his hand, then lets his hands rest there over his eyes.
"I'll never forgive myself and I don't expect anyone else to either." His heart has broken in his chest. It shreds his insides with guilt. He cannot live with this; the weight of it pushes down on his soul.
"Olivia forgives you," Alex murmurs before she continues. He looks up and sees a single tear at the corner of her eye before she wipes it away and returns to her professional mode. "What was the man doing then?"
He bows his head and closes his eyes again.
"He was getting off on it." His voice is angry, bitter, filled with hate. What has he become? He cannot look at the defense table for fear of losing control and screaming his hate for the courtroom to hear. Look at what you've done, he wants to scream. Look at my shell of a life. Look at what I did because of you.
Alex's voice cuts across his thoughts. "What happened after he forced you to rape your partner?"
"He threw a blanket over us and left. We fell asleep after a couple hours." Guilt was eating away like acid inside his chest. She is speaking soft words of encouragement, but he cannot hear her. He is mumbling I'm sorry over and over again into her neck. The endless mantra burns itself on his mind as the words tumble out.
"What?" Alex asks, leaning in closer to him.
"Nothing," he says, realizing he was saying it aloud.
"When did you wake up?"
"We woke up to shouts and banging," he continues, his shoulders slumped. "John and Fin had gotten concerned when we hadn't called back in. They found out we'd been investigating the warehouses and brought in several teams of uniformed officers to help search."
He feels a fresh wave of embarrassment as he sees John and Fin burst into the room. The expressions of horror on their faces suggest they won't be comfortable in the other pair's presence for a while. No doubt that ridiculous betting pool will be scuttled.
"Just for the record, Elliot," Alex says. "When you left the room, who did the officers have in custody?"
"The defendant." He still refuses to look, can't lose control. "They had just subdued him and were in the process of taking his mask off."
"Thank you, Elliot. No further questions your honor." Alex strides confidently back to her table. The defense lawyer rises for the cross-examination. Elliot knows he will ask the horrible questions, making him go into excruciating detail about the rape, the circumstances surrounding it, everything.
"Were you and your partner having sex before the incident?"
Elliot's jaw drops as Alex leaps back to her feet to shout her objection. This is not what he was expecting. He sees the judge measure up the lawyer out of the corner of his eye. "What is your aim here, Mr. Dayton?"
The weasel actually smiles. "I merely wish to ascertain if the detectives were previously engaged in a consensual sexual relationship. If so then I submit this was not in fact a rape. May I remind the court that we are not contesting the charges of kidnapping, torture and theft, only the two counts of rape."
This is the only time he's ever felt relief over the night they decided to wait. "I'm perfectly fine answering, your honor, because the answer is no. Your argument doesn't hold anyway."
"Really? Define rape. As a Special Victims detective I'm sure you're perfectly qualified." Elliot ignores the hidden insult.
"There are many forms," he says. "The most common is where one person says 'no' but the other person forces them into sex anyway." Think of it clinically, disassociate. "In our case we both were forced to engage in sex by an external person."
"But you said your partner told you to have sex with her."
He feels dumbfounded. She had actually. But under duress; she'd had his gun pointed at her head.
"She had a gun--"
"No further questions your honor."
His hands clench into fists of rage, but he can do no more good--or damage--here. His anger has washed away his feelings of self-hatred for now, and he allows himself to be led out of the courtroom, finally looking at the defendant who sits smugly in his chair. He wants to smash his face in.
[tbc]