Post Surrender Benson

My first SVU story. What I wish would happen.

The Morning After

He remembers the moment Kathy told him.

That memory is crystal clear in his mind. He can't remember what he was doing beforehand. He just remembers Kathy sitting in front of him, her own blue eyes wide and her face anxious, as she takes both of his large hands in hers, and tells him Olivia Benson had been kidnapped.

Elliot doesn't like to think of Olivia. More correctly, he doesn't like to think of how he left; how he quit without a word to her. In the months that followed his departure from Manhattan SVU, so many times he had reached for his phone to call her, but he was so ashamed, so scared of her reaction to him leaving, that he had put the phone back down, swearing to call her 'one day' to make things right.

That had been two years ago. Time had seemed to go by so quickly.

Then Kathy had told him. Olivia. Kidnapped.

He blinks, confused. "What?"

She grips his hands tighter, although he can't feel that. He only feels his heart beat quicken at the vert mention of her name. Kathy shifts closer.

"It's all over the news, El," she says softly. She isn't surprised he doesn't know. He doesn't watch the news anymore. He doesn't like to be reminded anymore than he already is about the horrors of the world, of New York City. The memories he have will last a lifetime.

Kathy turns, and picks up the television remote, turning the television on. In High Definition, he sees her, as the breaking news banner at the bottom boldly proclaims that she has been found alive. He recognises the location outside the 1-6, as she is escorted out by... Cassidy? He's holding her hand, keeping her close. Elliot blinks, and finds her again. Her face is covered in bruises, a cut on her forehead, her eyes are wide, and she blinks often as the flashes blind her; as the NYPD declares her a hero.

He pushes Kathy away and heads out the door, ignoring her calls.

One Month Later

It doesn't take long for him to find out what happened. He has enough buddies in the NYPD to find out the specifics of Lewis's depravity. Although many of the smaller details were harder to discover, he knows what happened:

William Lewis had kidnapped Olivia from her own home.

He had her for four days.

She was forced to watch him rape his defence attorney's mother.

She had been drugged. Dragged from location to location.

She had escaped, having beaten him with an iron bedpost.

He doesn't know whether or not she was raped. The details are fuzzy on that one. Some say she wasn't, others say she was and it was covered up by the NYPD at her request.

He starts picking up his phone again, wanting to call her. Desperately needing to know if she is really okay. He agonises over the phone until Kathy pulls it from his hands, again, as she refuses to make eye contact with him.

He doesn't deserve to know if Olivia is okay. He knows that. But it doesn't stop him from wanting the answer.

2 Months Later

If Casey Novak is surprised to hear from him, she doesn't show it. And if she is surprised at his request, she doesn't show that either.

They sit in the car outside Rikers, the engine idle. He wipes his hands on his jeans, taking a deep breath as Casey turns the car off. It seemed too easy for Casey to organise this, but in retrospect, perhaps not.

"You don't have to do this," she says gently. He glances at her. She's gotten him this far.

"Yes, I do," Elliot counters. She nods, and opens the door, stepping out as he does the same. They walk side by side silently. He pulls out his wallet and keys as he is stepped through security. It seems like a million years ago, when he used to do this, sometimes on a daily basis.

A prison warden leads them through the dimly lit hallways. "He's in there".

Casey stops short. "I'll wait here". Elliot knows she never had any intention of entering that room with him.

The warden opens the steel door, and Elliot steps inside.

Lewis sits at the table. He isn't handcuffed, but his feet are shackled to the table legs. One foot is tapping away, and the cuffs make a tinkling sound against the table legs. He looks up at Elliot, and purses his lips, a smirk forming as he tilts his chair back, examining the man in front of him as he sits opposite. He's large, pure muscle. His eyes seem calm, but Lewis can read into them and see the thinly veiled fury beneath the ocean. He chuckles, and he knows exactly who this is. "So, you're the old partner."

It's not a question. Clearly, Lewis knows who he is. Elliot swallows, determined not to let Lewis see his surprise. He feels an ache deep inside him, at the thought of Olivia speaking about him to this monster.

"I heard all about you," Lewis continues. "Heard about how you'd break my teeth in, break my legs, break my back, my face". He tilts his head to the side. "You're not as macho as I expected though."

"Am I as macho as you?" Elliot questions. "How macho of a man do you have to be to kidnap and rape women?"

Lewis chuckles. "Are you really here to discuss what makes a man, old partner? Say, why are you the old partner? I know you fucked her, detective. She basically confirmed it. I could hear it in her voice, how much she longed for you."

"Do not talk about her," Elliot snapped. He could feel the anger building, climbing through his views. "You have no right to talk about her."

"Funny, she said the same thing about you."

They both become silent, until Lewis speaks again. "Do you want to hear what I did to her? Is that why you're here? To hear about the way I violated your old partner?"

"I know what you did to her," Elliot responds. He flexes his hands on his thighs, and clenches them. Violated. It's such an ugly word, with so many meanings. Emotionally violated, mentally violated, physically violated.

Suddenly, he isn't sure why he came here anymore.

"Did she tell you how I shoved her own gun down her throat?" Lewis starts, his voice low. His eyes look through to Elliot, watching as his iris grow smaller, as his adams apple bobs in his throat. "Did she tell you how she begged me to let her live? How much she struggled? How I gave her the option to have her clothes cut off, or burnt off? I wanted to burn them off, you see, so I could watch the flames in those big, beautiful brown eyes of hers."

The words are like poison, and Elliot recoils, shoving the table away from him as he stands up, turning away from Lewis. He is breathing hard, trying desperately to keep a hold on himself. But he's never been good at that.

"I have to say," Lewis said, his eyes on Elliot's back. He sees his muscles trembling. "Her skin was so soft. So soft. But you'd know that already, wouldn't you. Was it as good for you as it was for me?"

Suddenly Elliot's chair is in his arms, raised above his head as it slams down on the table. The doors open, and the prison wardens restrain him, pulling him out into the hallway. Casey is waiting there, her eyes anxious.

"Elliot," she says, but he interrupts her.

"Get me out of here."

They walk silently back out of the prison to Casey's car. As they take their respective seats, she turns to him, finally asking the question that has been niggling at her desperately for days. "What were you hoping to achieve?"

"I had to see him," Elliot says, closing his eyes. "I had to see the monster who hurt my Liv."

There is nothing more to say, and Casey starts the car and heads back into the city.

1 Day Later

He's parked his car in her street, and he can see the light on in her apartment four stories up. Before he can change his mind, he's climbing the steps. Just as he reaches her security door, a man leaves, and he slips in, climbing the stairs two at a time until he reaches her door. His heart is hammering so hard in his chest, his heart bursting with a million apologies, like butterflies scrambling to get free.

He knocks loudly, once, twice, three times. He hears her approach the door, obviously checking to see who it is. He can tell she's standing there; he can see her shadow through the crack in the bottom of the door. Then he hears the sound of her unlocking the door, and it's probably one of the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard.

The door opens, and there she is. Her hair is shorter than it was when he saw her on TV. Her face has healed up perfectly, and she looks perfect, and beautiful in every way he remembers. His eyes lock onto hers, and suddenly he's taken her up into his arms, whispering desperately all the apologies as those butterflies break free from his chest. She doesn't resist him, she simply melts into him, her arms locking behind his back as she buries her face in his neck. He does the same, breathing her in, holding her so tightly he's afraid he might be hurting her so he pulls back. But she clings to him even more desperately and he takes that as a sign. Holding her to him with one hand on her back, the other cradling the back of her head, he steps her back into her apartment, closing the door behind him.

"Liv," he breathes, "My Liv, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He doesn't know exactly what he's apologising for. Maybe for leaving without a word. For never calling. For not being there to protect her like a partner should do. Maybe he's apologising for everything. All he knows is she's not letting go and she is shaking her head into his neck, clutching at him. She isn't crying, though, which makes tears almost well in his eyes. Liv, as strong as ever. He doesn't deserve this. He deserves her anger, her hurt, her betrayal. He pulls back and presses his lips to her temple.

He doesn't know how long they stand there for, only that it feels like both an eternity and a second wrapped up in one. Finally, she pulls back, letting her hands fall from around his neck.

"I would have shot him," Elliot says finally, his voice trembling. "I would have shot him in the knees, and taken him out with that pole. I would have broken his legs, his arms, his back. I would have made him suffer, Liv. I would have made him suffer for what he did to you."

Her eyes widen and just like that, Elliot knows that she knows he's spoken to Lewis. He expects her to be angry that he's gone to the prison and spoken to the man who'd hurt her, without even speaking to her. But she knows him. She knows this is how he copes with things, and she wouldn't expect any different. She swallows, her dark eyes meeting his, and she grabs his hands in hers, like Kathy did all those weeks ago. And instead of telling him something that makes his world fall apart, she speaks the words he desperately wants to hear, that puts him back together and he can't believe it's her that's comforting him. He almost laughs at the ridiculousness of it all, but she's always been the stronger one, the partner that could handle more than he ever could.

"Thank you," she whispers. They stand their silently, with her holding his hands, when she speaks to break the ice. "You, uh, want to stay for a coffee? Or.. tea?'

He nods and releases her, following her to her kitchen. Her apartment looks different, and it smells of fresh paint. She puts the kettle on, and then stands besides him again, their shoulders touching at they both lean over the kitchen bench. He clears his throat.

"Really Liv, Cassidy?"

She lets out a throaty chuckle, and nudges him in the shoulder. "Good to have you back, Stabler."