Chapter Text
The OCA2-HERC2 genes explain most of the blue and brown eye color inheritance.
(From “Further insight into the global variability of the OCA2-HERC2 locus for human pigmentation from multiallelic markers” in Scientific Reports)
Olivia started at the figure sitting in the hallway, leaning against her front door. She took an involuntary step back and then stopped.
“Eli?” She knew enough not to ask questions she already didn’t have the answer to. Eli was at her apartment, the rest–the why –could wait.
“Sorry . . .” He straightened, and she again struggled to reconcile this rangy young man with the toddler she’d formerly known. “I didn’t know when you’d be home, and I had to talk to you.”
“Of course,” she answered, unlocking the door and ushering him in.
“Have a seat,” she gestured to the sofa. “Noah’s gonna be back from his dance class soon, but . . . Can I get you anything to drink? Water, seltzer, coffee?” She was already in the kitchen, taking comfort in activity, unwilling to ask yet, just what it was that had brought yet another Stabler to her front door.
“Seltzer’s fine,” he answered.
“Ice?” She asked, reaching for a glass.
“It’s fine . . .” he said, not clearly answering the question.
She popped the can and brought it to him. “I thought you were in school.”
“Spring break,” he explained, after a sip.
She watched him, silently, waiting for the rest of the story to come out. It didn’t take long. “Dad said you were there when I was born.”
She nodded. “I was. It was . . .” she struggled for the adjectives, “one of the scariest and one of the most amazing days of my life. You were early and your mom was in really bad shape, and they just handed you to me in the back of the ambulance while they worked on her.”
“Did my mom . . . say anything?” He asked.
She shook her head, wondering where he was going with this. “No, she was in pretty bad shape, and she was mostly just worried about you.” She met his eyes, “What are you wondering?”
He swallowed. “I have brown eyes.”
Olivia nodded, simply, knowing this was only a precursor to something deeper. “Yes, you do.” She looked at those eyes again as she said it–so brown they were almost black, and yet, entirely transparent. You could see his every mood, and right now he was terrified.
“My dad has blue eyes,” Eli noted. “And so did my mom.”
“Right . . .” Olivia confirmed, but even as she said it, Eli’s point sank in. Though he shared a name, Elliot Stabler, Junior, may not share any DNA with Elliot Stabler, Senior.
He continued, clearly seeing the way that her face had fallen. “I’m just wondering if you know who my real father is.”
“Eli . . .” Her heart was breaking for the young man. She wanted nothing more than to come up with alternative theories for what he was seeing with his own eyes–random mutations, some sort of genetic quirk. Instead of science though, she went with what she knew. “Listen to me; hear me. Elliot Stabler is your father. You have his name, and you have his love. Nothing will change that.”
“Right . . .” He sounded entirely unconvinced, but at that moment, she heard the sound of keys in the door.
“Noah–” She placed a quick, reassuring hand over Eli’s before standing to greet her son. “Sweetheart! How was dance class?”
“Fine . . .” Noah dropped his bag and moved to the kitchen, but she stopped him by clearing her throat pointedly.
He turned to look at her. “Gym bag in your room and sweaty clothes in the hamper,” she reminded him.
“Yes, ma’am” he answered brightly and then turned to look. “Oh, hi!”
“Bag. Room.” Any sternness in her voice was belied by her smile. “Clothes. Hamper.”
“Man. Woman. Camera. Television,” Noah muttered under his breath but complied.
She shook her head with another smile. “Smartass,” she said, loud enough that Eli could hear her even if Noah couldn’t.
“He’s a lot like you,” Eli observed.
End Chapter 1