Close To Home - Chap 4 (Law & Order: SVU)

Author’s Note; I don’t own Law & Order: SVU.

Elliot’s eyes were now stuck on the door ahead. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t stop the voices in his head. Emotions churned through out his body. He wanted to stand up and punch something, anything. Was she attacked? Did she get away from an abusive boyfriend? He wanted answers to silence the questions, but had none. He waited; waited for her to finally show herself. What was he going to say? How was he going to tell her he saw her? There was one thing he realized, if he didn’t calm himself there was no way he could deal with this. He talked himself out of his anger. Maybe there was another explanation. Maybe she was in an accident and just didn’t want to admit it. Anything could have happened. He needed to calm down before he could ask her.

Realizing how intimidating he must look right now, he knew he couldn’t confront her as soon as she came out of the bathroom. If she was a victim, that would make her even more uncomfortable. He took a second to stand from the bed and walked into the living room. Seeing her bag beside the couch he picked it up and placed it on his bed. He shut the door behind him and headed to the kitchen. He needed coffee and figured it would be a good way to get his mind on something else. The music finally shut off with a jolt and his eyes turned to his bedroom door. He could hear the bathroom door open and some movement in the room. Soon he heard the sound of the coffee brewing behind him. Drip. Sizzle. Drip. Sizzle.

He stared at the door handle. Nothing. Each second that passed made his skin crawl. He had to stay calm. He had to stop the images. The door handle finally jiggled and out she stepped dressed in one of his long sleeve blue shirts and her jeans. She looked around coming to stop on his staring face. She jumped when she saw his eyes focused on her. She stared back at him. “I borrowed one of your shirts. I don’t really have any right now. I need to go shopping.” He tried his best to put a smile on his face when all he could see where those bruises. “That’s fine. I’m making some coffee. Care to join me?”

This time positions were reversed. Chris now sat on the receiving side of the breakfast bar with Elliot as the server. He turned around grabbing two mugs from the cabinet. He placed one in front of her and put the other one on the counter. He grabbed the coffee pot from the machine and did his best to keeping his shaky hands calm. He poured her cup and then one for himself placing the pot back in its original position. “You alright?” she asked fairly sure she knew the answer. He continued trying to put on the normal face and keep a small smile going. He should have realized smiling was not his strong suit.

He didn’t answer her question, but yet directed one to her, “I have short sleeve shirts, too.” She nodded to him, “That’s fine. I like long sleeves.” He countered, “Well, it’s a little warm in here. I think you’d be more comfortable in short sleeves.” He watched as she became more agitated, but he was not about to back down. “Let me go get you one.” “No,” she exclaimed back, “It’s cold outside and I’m going shopping later so I’m going to need some layers.” Ah, she was good, but he was up to the challenge. Elliot grabbed her arm from beside the coffee mug, “Well then roll them up while you’re in here at least. You’re going to burn up.” She tried to pull away from him, but he had a light, but firm grip on her hand. “What is your problem?” she yelled at him. He pushed the oversized sleeve up revealing the bruise on her wrist. The bruise he now got a much better look at and could now see the marks engrained within it. This wasn’t a bruise. It was a rope burn.

“Elliot stop! What the hell is wrong with you?” she screamed at him as she pulled away much more forcefully finally freeing herself. “What is that mark on your wrist?” he asked back. She quickly shot up from the stool and pulled back from the bar. “That is none of your business. What are you nuts?” He let his emotions take over and became increasingly louder, “What is it, Christina?” She became very aggravated and he became very aggressive. She watched as his anger began to take him over and she became scared. Something flashed through her eyes and she jumped. Elliot could sense the fear in her movement and closed his eyes. He had to calm himself; she was not a suspect, she was a victim and he needed to be understanding. As he opened his eyes he watched her head for the door. He ran to block her way, “I’m sorry. Please don’t leave. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I’m scared Chris. I’m scared something happened to you and you didn’t think you could tell me.”

She pulled back from him, but as he calmed so did she. She turned her back to him, “How did you know?” she asked. Elliot collected his thoughts, but realized it would appear as if he was spying if he admitted that he saw her. “It doesn’t matter how, just tell me what happened.” “Things haven’t changed. You still feel like you can pry into my life,” she shot back at him. Elliot did his best you put on a soothing tone, “Please, tell me what happened.” “No,” she responded back very intent. “Christina!” anger began to slowly boil through him. “Why? So you can go hunt him down with all your SVU buddies? So you can make yourself the hero or so you can go do something stupid? I know you too well, Elliot.”

He felt her words like a slap to the face. He knew she was right. The second she said a name he would be out the door trying to find him. No matter how bad he wanted answers he knew there was no way he was getting them. Why did she have to be as stubborn as he was? He took a seat on the couch and placed his head in his hands. He brought his tone down to a less intimidating volume. “Fine. Will you at least let me take you to get checked out?” He looked up to her with the softest expression he could get out. He truly was scared of what may have happened and the first thing he needed to do was make sure she was alright. He could deal with the details later.

She sat down beside him now mirroring his calm, solemn demeanor. “Okay,” she softly stated. He looked to her and nodded his acceptance. “I’ll get you a coat.” He stood from the couch, walked into the bedroom and grabbed his coat from the bed. He walked out shutting the door behind him as he handed it to her. “What about you?” she asked. “I’ll be fine,” he stated back. He continued to stare down at his sister, sadness in his eyes, worried about what he may find out at the hospital. She wrapped herself in his jacket as they walked out the door. Elliot never even got a chance to change his clothes.

St. John’s Memorial Hospital

Elliot stared straight ahead at the walls he had become so comfortable with since he entered SVU. The clean and bleached feel that never before bothered him was now smothering him with its sterility. He attempted to pick up one of the various magazines aligning the tables, but nothing could pull his attention away from the white walls. They were the perfect spring board for his thoughts. It was almost as if he used them as a projection screen for all the pictures running through his head. He had his own private viewing of the horror show playing in his mind with Chris playing the screaming victim running from the bloody axe murdered.

“Hey,” a familiar voice called out behind him. He blacked out the pictures and turned to Olivia. She moved to take the seat next to him, “How is she?” Elliot returned his gaze to the wall, “I don’t know. They’re still looking at her.” His agitation was very obvious and Olivia did her best to control her words, “Did she tell you anything?” He shook his head ‘no.’ “She won’t talk to me about it.” He could hear the concern in her voice, “Want me to try?” she asked. He nodded ‘yes’ to her. She stood from the chairs brushing her hand on his shoulder, she made her way down the hall.

The movie came back full force as he was once again alone. He didn’t want to repeat it so he looked around for the remote to the TV he had initially turned off. He stood from his seat and began his quest. At least it was something to take his mind off of things. He looked under the chairs and around the side tables. The remote was nowhere to be found. He gave up and walked over to the wide screen pushing the on button. The sounds a CNN filled the tiny waiting room. He turned back to his chair as a feeling of annoyance took him over. There, in his seat, was the remote he had gotten down on all fours to find. It was as if it was laughing at him, taunting him because it stayed out of his grasp. He picked it up and threw it against the wall. The tiny remote shattered into a thousand little pieces.

“Elliot!” Olivia shouted from behind him. He turned around facing her and realized that not only had she witnessed his outburst, but so did the very alarmed nurse standing behind her. He let out a sigh as he reached for his back pocket. He pulled out twenty dollars and handed it to the nurse, “I’m sorry about that.” She shook her head and exited the room. He stared at Olivia, too afraid to speak for fear that this overpowering anger will come through in his voice. “She’s not ready to talk about it,” she calmly stated to him. Though he had hoped she might he knew too well that no one was going to get her to say anything until she was ready. He nodded to her as he once again, sat down. Olivia continued to stand. “Shondra agreed to a line up. I’m taking her in now. You take Chris home. Munch and I can handle things.”

He wanted to object. He wanted to reach out and say no. He wanted to feel some sense of control, but it was gone. He watched as she left him there alone. He just had to sit and wait. Waiting was not his strong suit. He let the sounds of the news cast fill his ears not really letting any one word stick. Anything to keep the sounds in his own head quiet. His eyes turned back to the white walls. He was now becoming numb. World News filled the room.

A hand came up behind him and he jerked around. “Sorry,” Chris pulled her hand back from his shoulder. He took a deep breath and stood from the vinyl seat. “You ready?” he asked. She nodded to him and they silently walked to the car. They sat side by side on the ride, neither one sure of what to say to the other. Elliot had been sitting in silence in that hospital waiting room and he was tired of it. “They give you anything?” he asked. “Some pills for the pain and something to help me sleep.” While he was glad she answered that wasn’t actually what he was asking, “How about anything for,” he paused unhappy with the fact that he had to broach the subject, “for a baby?”

She let a short breath, “Do I really need to answer that question, detective?” There it was, he had unintentionally hit a nerve and now he could hear it in her voice. “I wasn’t prying. I’m worried and I wanted to know if they took care of everything.” She seemed to become more frustrated, “No, you wanted to see if it was something I needed. Always the detective. I won’t answer any direct questions so you are going to ask your way around them. Do you ever stop?” He shot back at her, “That’s fine, I won’t ask you anymore questions. We can live in your happy little world where we pretend that nothing happened because it make things easier than facing them, right? Always running. Do you ever stop?”

She turned her sight from him to the passenger side window. The wedge between them was constantly growing bigger. Why did she always have to make things difficult? He decided it was safer for him just to keep his eyes on the road in front of him. The apartment was only a few blocks away. They just had to ignore each other for a few more minutes and then they could put up real barriers. The walls in his apartment worked well for that.