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I killed my first monster when I was seven years old
He melted like butter in my bathroom's sixty-watt bulb
Kept a three-cell MagLite from Daddy's workshop drawer
Under my pillow and I'd pull it like a sword
Elliot remembers the first time he confronted the monsters.
He was seven years old and his teenage cousins had been watching some horror movie when they were supposed to be babysitting him. The rest of the family was at some wedding, no kids allowed. He'd gone to bed long before his parents got home and woke with a start when he heard some crashing and a thump. He'd run to the hallway, but it was pitch black and he thought for sure he saw a shadowy figure disappear into the bathroom. He dashed in, throwing on the light, but there was nothing there.
"What in the damn hell, Elliot?" his father yelled, stumbling out of his bedroom, shirtless and eyes bloodshot.
"I heard a noise," Elliot squeaked, shutting off the bathroom light quickly.
"Your mother knocked over a lamp," his father said, grabbing him roughly by the arm, the one that still hurt when it rains since he broke it in the car accident. "Get back in bed and stay there."
His father shoved him through the door and pulled it shut, and Elliot could hear his heavy footfalls return to the bedroom and slam the door. He tried to go back to sleep but then he heard crying, and the shrieking of "Please Joe, stop."
"Mama?" Elliot whispered, tiptoeing to his door. His mother sometimes called out for no reason, but she sounded like she was in trouble. But Elliot was afraid. He knew what would happen if he didn't stay in his room like his father told him. He'd get the belt, or maybe the paddle.
"Joe, please," he heard again. Definitely Mama.
That was the first time he remembered thinking that the monsters on TV had nothing on monsters in the real world.
The next morning, he stole a flashlight from his father's toolbox in the garage and kept it under his pillow. Anytime he heard a noise at night, he'd pull it out and point it in the direction of the sound. He usually found nothing, except sometimes his mother's muffled screams. He wished he was braver. He wished he could save her. But he was just a kid with a flashlight. What more could he do?
Anymore when a restless feelin' keeps me up at night
Fallin' on my knees is my new turnin' on the light
I keep my faith intact, make sure my prayers are said
'Cause I've learned that the monsters ain't the ones beneath the bed
The Royce case had wrecked him. He turned back to Kathy like he always did and she wound up pregnant. In their 40s. How many accidental children could show up in one family? Then everything with Kathleen happened and his mother… his mother was still as flamboyant (her words, not his) as ever. How could he save her now if she didn't even want to help herself?
Now that he's a grown up, Elliot wonders if maybe he's the monster.
"How come you never told me about your mother?" Olivia had said to him in the cribs.
"It never came up," he said.
"You made sure it never came up," she countered.
"Well, Liv, what do you want me to tell you?" he said. "Things happen, I deal with it, I move on. I'm not going to wallow in it."
But what she said next hit him harder than he expected.
"Elliot, let me tell you something," she said. "Bottling it up inside hasn't worked for you. And neither has beating up perps, or walls, or garbage cans. Kathleen may be sick, but you're the one with the problem."
He'd told her he was through the looking glass, and he was. Was she right? Was he the one with the problem? Was he the monster in this situation? Kathy had slapped him and called him a bastard. The look of betrayal on Kathleen's face, on Liv's. The way his mother looked at him, afraid. Like she used to be afraid of his father.
The Stablers had long been devout Catholics, but it had been a long time since he really prayed for something that mattered to him. He prayed for Kathleen's safety in Rikers. Prayed that his mother would recognize she needed help. Prayed that both Liv and Kathy would forgive him. That he could forgive himself.
He spent all day, every day, trying to put the monsters away, so he prayed he wouldn't become one, too.
The wolf hunts a hungry man and the devil a lonely heart
A minefield of bad decisions lay hidin' in the dark
Greed stalks, sickness steals, and pride lays a wicked trap
You can't avoid 'em all, no, you gotta trust me on that
The allure of being Eddie Wagner had long worn off. The realization that he'd slept with a woman no better than a pimp, whose self worth was shattered as a teenager because her father sold her into sex slavery, it was too much for him to stomach.
Though it was done undercover, that wasn't something he could leave behind when this was all over, like the junk of a van, the ugly clothes, and the beard.
He'd once heard that nothing good happened after 2 a.m., that bad decisions abounded in the dark. And that's what his mind was these days: dark. There wasn't a glimmer of sunlight anywhere. It was robberies, and sex trafficking, and drugs. Everything he spent all his life trying to stop, trying to avoid, and he was right in the middle of it. He didn't know who he was anymore, but didn't like who he was becoming.
But then he remembered Olivia's words: "I want you to come home."
She was his glimmer of sunlight. Her hand on his cheek, the pleading in her eyes. She still saw him for the man he was years ago, not a saint, but a protector. Someone who fought for truth, justice, and righteousness. Maybe he wasn't as dark inside as he feared. Maybe there was still hope for him after all to escape the rabbit hole he'd fallen into.
Anymore when a restless feelin' keeps me up at night
Fallin' on my knees is my new turnin' on the light
I keep my faith intact, make sure my prayers are said
'Cause I've learned that the monsters ain't the ones beneath the bed
Elliot felt his chest clench when he returned from the bathroom. Looking at the woman lying in his bed, in his shirt and sweatpants, her chocolate and caramel hair splayed all over his pillow, with a small smile on her face.
He didn't know how or why it took them so long to get here. They still hadn't done anything intimate, not even kissed, but just having her here, in his space, so near to him, that was enough for now.
They both still had things to work through, things to discuss, but that could wait for another night. He'd finally gotten out of his UC operation only to find Wheatley still lurking in the shadows, coming after Liv again, this time trying to lure her to an abandoned building for an assassination attempt.
He feels his PTSD flaring again as he quickened his pace to the side of the bed where she lays. He knows this will never go away, not completely, but he's found that for him, prayer, like some use meditation, helps. He dropped to his knees and folded his hands, silently thanking God for bringing her back to him, bringing him back to her, letting them find each other again in this universe.
He felt her stir in the middle of his prayer and placed her hand on his arm.
"You're praying," she says, through sleepy slurs. "What for?"
"Thanks," he said. "Praying for thanks for bringing you back to me."
"I prayed for that too," Olivia said. "And you know I don't pray. But sometimes it helps to keep the darkness away."
"I know," he said, leaning down to kiss her hand. "That's why I do it."
"You know what else keeps the darkness away?" she murmured.
"What?" he asked.
"Somebody holding you while you fall asleep," she said, patting the other side of the bed.
She didn't have to ask him twice as he climbed over her into the bed, not bothering to walk all the way around, and she giggled. He pulled her into his arms, against his chest, sending up another prayer of thanks for her existence.
Daddy, check my closet, leave on the bathroom light
I smile and say "All clear" when I tuck him in for the night
But Daddy, I'm still scared, can I sleep with you instead?
I kneel down beside my little man and I bow my head
"Dad, maybe we can leave the bathroom light on," Noah said. "You know, just in case."
Eli had let him watch his first horror movie tonight when they'd been at a department function.
"Why did you think Friday the 13th was appropriate for a nine year old?" Elliot had asked Eli when he went in to say goodnight.
"Dickie let me watch it when I was nine," Eli said.
"And you had nightmares for over a month," Elliot said.
"Guess I forgot about that part," he muttered.
"Kid wakes up in the middle of the night and I'm sending him in here," Elliot said, but he smiled at Eli. "But I'm glad you two are getting along. I know this hasn't been easy for you."
"He's a cool kid," Eli said. "I just miss the way things used to be sometimes. But I do like how much he looks up to me."
"That's why you've gotta keep making good choices," Elliot said. "Stay a good role model."
"I'm trying," Eli said. "Really."
"I know," Elliot said, giving his son a side hug. "Don't forget to say your prayers."
Elliot smiled down at his youngest boy, not really believing he'd become a father of six in his late 50s, but he couldn't be happier about it.
"We'll leave it on if you want Noh," Elliot said. "But I promise you there's nothing in that closet. Nothing stands a chance in this house with Mom and I around."
"Maybe I could sleep with you guys tonight?" Noah said. "Just to be really really sure?"
"You could," Elliot said. "But won't that make sleeping in here tomorrow night even harder?"
"I guess," Noah said. "But I'm still scared. How can I make it go away?"
"Remind yourself that those monsters aren't real," Elliot said. "They're pretend, for the movie."
"But there are real monsters in the world," Noah said. "It's why you and Mom have jobs. How do you stop being scared of them?"
"You don't," Elliot said. "Even I'm still scared of them. Your Mom might not be. She's fearless. But I'm afraid. Afraid they'll try to get to you and your brothers and sisters."
"So what do you do?" Noah asked.
Elliot stood from the bed and dropped to his knees.
"Come down here with me," he said and Noah slid out of bed and followed him.
"I know you and Mom just recently started coming to church with us," Elliot said. "But you know how we kneel at Mass? Every night before bed, I kneel like this and say my prayers. It makes me feel better, like somebody else up there is helping me fight the monsters."
"What are you supposed to say?" Noah asked. "I don't know how to pray."
"Sure you do," Elliot said. "You can say whatever you want. Tell God your fears, things you're thankful for, the good things you hope happen to people you love."
"Can you show me?" Noah asked.
Elliot cleared his throat. He'd never really said his nighttime prayers aloud before, but he'd try, for Noah.
"Dear God," Elliot started. "Thank you for letting Olivia and I make it home safe to our families today. Thank you for our health, for Maureen's new baby and making me a grandpa. Thank you for bringing Olivia and Noah into my life. Please watch over all the kids, my mother, and Olivia. Keep them safe when I can't be with them, and happy in everything they do. Amen."
"So it's kind of like writing a letter?" Noah asked.
"A little bit," Elliot said. "Do you want to give it a try?"
"Hi God," Noah said. "It's Noah Benson-Stabler. Um, thanks for letting Mom find me and adopt me. And for letting me have the Dad and brothers and sisters I always really wanted. Thanks for letting me be an uncle to Katie even though she spits up on me a lot. Um… please don't let the monsters from the movie be real and don't let Eli get into too much trouble for letting me watch it. Oh, and please keep Mom and Dad safe at work. Amen."
Noah let out a deep breath and smiled when he finished.
"Feel better?" Elliot asked, hoisting the boy up under his arms and tucking him back into bed.
"Yeah," Noah said. "I do."
"You can do that any time you're feeling scared," Elliot said. "In your head, anywhere. I do it at work sometimes when we're doing something scary."
"I love you, Dad," Noah said. "Thanks for teaching me how to be brave."
"I love you too, buddy," Elliot said, kissing Noah on the top of his head. "You still want the bathroom light on?"
"Nah," Noah said. "If I get scared I'll say another prayer."
"Sweet dreams buddy," Elliot said, turning out his bedroom light. "If you need us, come get Mom and I. Or better yet, go wake Eli."
Anymore when a restless feelin' keeps me up at night
Fallin' on my knees is my new turnin' on the light
I keep my faith intact, make sure my prayers are said
'Cause I've learned that the monsters ain't the ones beneath the bed
I've learned that the monsters ain't underneath the bed
When Elliot got back to their bedroom Olivia was propped up on the headboard with a book in hand but her eyes were wet.
"You were eavesdropping," he said.
"Was not," she muttered, but he could tell she was lying and gave her a look that said so.
"Fine,' she huffed. "I was eavesdropping. But I never get tired of seeing the two of you interact."
Elliot shed his t-shirt and socks and slid into bed next to her.
"You okay with the fact that I'm teaching him about my religion and prayer?" Elliot asked. "I know you've never been religious, but I appreciate you coming to church with us for the past few weekends."
"I don't know if I believe in organized religion," Olivia said. "And I've always found it hard to believe that your God could let the bad things that happen in this world exist. But ever since you've been back, I don't know. I'm more inclined to believe there's something more out there that I never wanted to acknowledge."
"I prayed for you in Rome," Elliot said. "I prayed for you every day for those 10 years we were apart. That you got everything you'd ever wanted. I just never thought I'd actually get to be a part of it."
"Me either," Olivia said. "But you're here. And that's what makes me believe there has to be something or someone out there sliding our little puzzle pieces into place."
"I know what you mean," Elliot said. "It makes me feel like I can deal with all the monsters out there. When I pray them away, and of course when I've got my partner there next to me starting down evil."
"Well, Lieutenant Stabler," she said with a smirk. "I'm much happier that we can stare it down more from the sidelines these days. I'm getting a little old for chasing the monsters on foot."
"Yeah, you're ancient," he said, joking, which earned him a swat on the arm.
"You're still older than me," she said with a laugh, rolling over into his side.
"We're both older than dirt Captain," he said. "But there's nobody else I'd rather have as my partner, in every sense of the word, than you. The monsters are more scared of you than you are of them."
"They're scared of the Benson-Stabler team," Olivia said, reaching up and tapping him on the nose. "As they should be. Just like our children."
"Amen," Elliot said with a laugh, leaning down to give her a goodnight kiss as he reached for the bedside table and turned off the light.
I've learned that the monsters ain't underneath the bed