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Serena despised precincts. She hated police paraphernalia in general and precincts were the epicenter of all things associated with the criminal justice system. As if that wasn’t bad enough, her daughter had insisted on working at SVU, a very specific unit that was even closer to Serena’s triggers. Typically, she avoided her daughter’s profession of choice altogether. However, this would be her thousandth attempt in the last year to persuade Olivia into a different unit. It wasn’t healthy; she was continually putting herself at risk, not to mention she was completely drained and distressed at the end of each case. Today marked the third week Olivia had ducked her mother’s calls and ignored her voicemails. She couldn’t bother to be at her apartment for longer than two seconds either. So, Serena steeled herself and marched into the one place her daughter was sure to be, which, unfortunately, was a precinct. Doing so while sober was a great feat but if she were to turn up to her daughter’s place of work drunk, then it would most certainly defeat the reason for her visit in the first place. She could plan on dinner with Olivia tomorrow and turn to vodka later today.
Of the many things Serena had imagined to find at her daughter’s desk that morning, a somewhat scrawny young man with strikingly cerulean eyes was not among them. She momentarily questioned if she was in the right place, but it was most certainly her daughter’s photographs that littered the desk. He hovered above the desk, putting together a case file and occasionally flicking a key on the computer’s keyboard. Olivia was nowhere in sight, but if this man was so comfortable at her desk then surely he’d know where she was. Despite her upbringing, Olivia wasn’t that much of a hermit. Serena walked over and cleared her throat.
The young man turned, eyebrows shooting into his already receding hairline as he recognized the woman before him from the pictures on his partner’s desk. A myriad of emotions rolled through the ocean in his eyes as he considered who she was to him by way of her relationship with his partner. Serena nearly gasped upon seeing the expressiveness, the pure emotion in his eyes. Eyes may be the window to the soul, but some are shuttered, some foggy, some smeared… cracked. Not these. It was the clearest, most open view into a soul imaginable; innocent, in a way. Keen and kind. Shock morphed into sadness into anger into heartache into longing, all on Olivia’s behalf, his face never moving a muscle but his eyes clearly painting his internal struggle.
He seemed to decide on the simplest option: being courteous. Extending a hand, he flashed a cautious grin, still trying to gauge her intentions (as well as her sobriety). “Professor Benson,” he nodded. “Elliot Stabler. I’m Olivia’s partner.”
Serena arched an eyebrow, the corner of her lips turning up in a knowing smirk. Olivia had never mentioned him. Adjacent to most parent/child relationships, not mentioning something to her mother meant she considered him important. The closer something was to Olivia’s heart, the less she discussed it. She had mentioned all her previous partners in passing plenty of times. This… Elliot. He was something different. Although that was already clear. She barked out a quiet laugh.
It was Elliot’s turn to quirk an eyebrow. “What?” he implored, almost concerned.
“Well, I’m used to having to correct people on my title at least once,” she stated, matter-of-factly. His eyebrows furrowed, a juxtaposition to his small smile; torn between pride over getting it right and scrutiny for whoever didn’t. Thankfully, Serena didn’t wait for him to decide on a response. “Where is my daughter?”
Just for a moment, something flickered in his eyes in response to her intentionally possessive wording. Not quite jealousy, but a protectiveness that was not entirely selfless. Apparently, Olivia’s regard for him was reciprocated; she meant something to him, too. Serena’s eyes briefly flicked down to his left hand. Her eyebrows arched deeper at the sight of his wedding band. Oh, Olivia…
“She stepped out to grab us lunch.” His tone was borderline defensive.
“Well, I hope you don’t mind if I wait?” she asked, although her own tone made it clear that she wasn’t requesting permission.
After a brief staring contest, he acquiesced and began clearing the case files from her desk, unceremoniously shoving things onto his own desk. Serena gracefully sat down in her daughter’s seat while Elliot made his way around the desks and haphazardly threw himself into his chair.
“You’re from Queens?” she asked coolly. He looked up in surprise, then huffed out a laugh.
“What gave it away?”
“You have an accent. A dull one, but it’s still there.”
Elliot grinned at her attempt to keep judgment out of her voice. “Yeah, Liv’s told me as much,” he shrugged.
“Oh? What else has she told you?” she challenged. His eyes narrowed as he tried to size up where she was going with this.
“Probably most things,” he said softly, seemingly honored by the fact. Serena merely hummed in response. She sincerely doubted that; Olivia hadn’t ever truly been close with anyone. Why should this man be any different?
“And how long have you been partners?”
He smiled and said, “Since she got here. ‘Bout a year.” She internally grimaced at his apparent inclination to incomplete sentences. Not just a cop. No. A cop from Queens. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“So you two work well together?” she asked, genuinely puzzled by the opposites that were her daughter and this man.
He almost laughed. “Well, I can’t speak for her but I definitely work better with her than anyone else I’ve ever met.” Serena’s features were once again overtaken with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.
“How so?” she asked innocently. However, his narrowed eyes and knowing smirk told her he was much less oblivious than she would have guessed. However, he saw no problem in continuing on anyway.
“She sees things I don’t. And vice-versa. She’s quick, compassionate… She has a bigger heart than I thought possible. Our captain thought that could be her downfall. Ya know, that she would burn out.”
“But you think otherwise?” Serena asked, almost mockingly.
He shook his head, seemingly unbothered by her tone. He’d become rather jaded to attitude this last year. “She’s strong enough to carry that heart and do the job. Stubborn enough. She doesn’t always like the way we have to do things.” He smiled, remembering something. “She’s gotten in trouble a few times, trying to do the right thing. But I’m happy to follow her into trouble. She’s almost never wrong.” He focused on a spot on his desk for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as he silently weighed the implications of something. “She’s my best friend.” He nodded as if affirming it for himself. He looked up at Serena then, his eyes shifting to a defensive electric blue. “And she’s the greatest cop in the whole damn department. She just doesn’t know it yet,” he stated nonchalantly, nothing but sincerity in his tone.
Serena was momentarily stunned into silence. As soon as she recovered, she scoffed, completely taken aback by his confidence when it came to knowing her daughter. “You’ve known her for barely a year,” she said by way of rebuttal, a disapproving look on her face. He just flashed the damned grin again. “What?” she asked sharply.
“I can see you in her,” he said, eyes shining warmly.
“Oh?” she asked, leaning back in the chair, mildly intrigued at that. “Tell me, what is it that’s signature to the Benson name?”
“How ‘bout the kind of bluntness that knocks you on your ass and a wit that’ll leave you questioning everything you’ve ever believed?” he said admiringly.
“Ah,” Serena nodded. “I suppose it’s good to hear I taught her a few good things,” she said before breaking into a small, mischievous smile that he reciprocated in kind. “I didn’t raise a people pleaser,” she said, tipping her chin up defiantly.
He arched an eyebrow. “No shit,” sarcasm dripped from his tone.
He took a breath, steeling himself. “Due respect, Professor?” She remained silent and he took it as an invitation to continue. “I don’t think it’d make a difference if I knew her for one year or twenty. My opinion won’t change,” he said firmly. Serena’s smile quickly faded and she scoffed again. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as his eyes implored her to hear him. “I know you’re concerned for her.” Serena’s eyes immediately flashed a warning at his audacious attempt to sympathize with her. He carried on anyway. “I have children. This line of work? I’d worry, too. Hell, I worry anyway.”
“Don’t try to understand my position, dear. You’ll hurt yourself,” she sneered. He smiled again. Almost… fondly. Stubborn , she thinks, beginning to see the underlying similarities. Not opposites, then. Parallels.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he said earnestly, with humility that took her breath away. “I’m also not naive enough to think that my vow to have her back will do anything to lessen your concern.”
“Good,” she snapped. He simply nodded.
“But for your information, Professor… She is more than capable of doing this job. It won’t get easier but she’ll get stronger. She’s better at this than anyone I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been here a while.” They were both painfully aware that he was avoiding the phrase ‘born for it’ but the implication hung in the air nonetheless. “And I do have her back. I’d die for her.” Serena looked up, shocked again by the simplistic sincerity in his voice as he stated such a heavy conviction. He looked almost offended by her surprise. “She’s my partner,” he said, shrugging as if that explained everything.
Serena smiled keenly. “A title that says everything and nothing.” At his puzzled expression, she elaborated, “It provides a rather convenient professional excuse as to why you’re willing to die for a woman who’s not your wife, don’t you think?.”
All the confidence and color immediately drained from his face. “Did you think you were being subtle, dear?” she said with an amused expression on her face. “You love her,” she stated simply, her tone neither accusing nor exonerating.
“No, that’s not– we’re not… we – we never…” he fumbled, which only furthered her amusement.
“Well, I wasn’t implying you were sleeping with her, but good to see where your head’s at,” she said coolly, thoroughly enjoying his sudden ineptitude for composure.
“I–I don’t –”
“Don’t lie to me,” she interjected sharply. He stopped in his tracks and wiped at his nose nervously, face flushed beet red. A fierce storm was brewing in his eyes, confusion and a great deal of distress battling a strange sort of misfit notion of hope.
Eventually, he lowered his head in defeat and quietly said, “She’s my partner.” He looked up at Serena, whose amusement faded at the sight of his youthful torment. He sounded resigned in the matter.
“Again,” she said, her voice gentle for the first time. “Everything and nothing.” He smiled sadly.
“Yeah,” he whispered. He looked up suddenly, remembering his initial point. “But I have her back. No matter what.”
Serena huffed out a laugh. “No matter what?” He nodded, confused as to why that was an issue for her. “You can’t protect her forever. Nor her you.”
He shook his head, confused. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She laughed again. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, dear.” She stood up and he mirrored her. He really is a gentleman, I’ll give him that. “Everybody leaves.” She looked at him, her eyes briefly conveying something to him that he wouldn’t quite understand for another twenty-something years. “Not everybody comes back. Very few fight to return,” she said, wistfully. His eyebrows furrowed, a mixture of confusion and desperation to understand. She sighed. This wasn’t a point easy to convey. “Have you… have you ever read The Count of Monte Cristo ?” His face twisted even further in confusion. He nods ‘no’. She smiled softly. “Read it some time. It may offer you some insight.” The puzzled expression remained on his face.
“I don’t have a whole lotta free time,” he said sheepishly.
She laughed. “A poor excuse. But I won’t waste my time convincing you.” Her own grayish-blue gaze met his own vivid blue one. He somehow got the sense she was once again speaking to some future version of himself, the wisdom of her words lost on his current self. “When you need it, you’ll find the time to read it. And you will need it, Elliot.” He nodded, accepting her words despite his current lack of understanding.
She looked around the precinct, still disgusted but reluctantly beginning to accept her daughter’s decision. If Olivia were going to change her mind, she would’ve done it already. Serena looked back to Elliot. “A favor, Detective?”
“Anything, Professor.” There was that sincerity again.
“Don’t tell her I was here.” She turned to walk out of the squad room but stopped short, debating a moment before calling over her shoulder, “And you may call me Serena.”
Elliot sat down, feeling like he’d just gone ten rounds in the ring. In a way, he did. But nothing she said changed his situation. He shook off the conversation and dove back into his work.
***
Twenty-two years later, Elliot sits on his terrace and finally turns the last page of the old book. He scrubs a hand down his face, tears pooling in his eyes as he silently apologizes to both Benson’s for waiting so long. Ten years today. It was eerie, the similarities between Dante’s story and his own. It was even eerier considering that it’s a book recommended to him by her mother, well over a decade before anything remotely similar to the story came to pass in his life.
“I’ll never not wonder what it was you saw in me, Serena,” he mumbles under his breath. His lips turn up in a rebellious smirk as he recognizes his own bad grammar and makes no effort to correct it.
He stands up and takes a deep breath, looking out at the sunset. He feels the oncoming fight in his bones and mentally steels himself for whatever this decision will cost him. As it turns out, he’s not ‘everybody’. He can’t help it.
He picks up his phone and dials Fin’s number.