Close To Home - Chap 7 (Law & Order: SVU)

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

As he flipped the switch Elliot realized he had not spent this much time in his apartment in months. Chris snuck by him taking her normal veggie position on the couch as he threw his keys onto the bar. He turned his attention to her as she grabbed the remote, “You know, I don’t ever remember you being this much of a couch potato.” She looked up at him with a sadness in her eyes, “Haven’t really gotten a chance to watch much TV in a long while. Gotta catch up with all the new shows.” She turned her attention back to the television as he let the words sink in.

He truly was sorry for blowing up at her at the station and even more sorry for blowing up at her all those years ago. He couldn’t help but think that if he hadn’t tried to play protective older brother then he would have been around to actually protect her from everything he encountered on a daily basis. “What?” she asked. He snapped himself out of his thoughts, “Nothing,” he replied realizing he must have been staring. “I’m going to go change. What do you say we watch a movie tonight? I know I have some microwave popcorn up in the cupboard.” She raised her eyebrow to him, “Are you trying to have a bonding moment with me?” He had to laugh at her. Through everything she never lost her sarcastic wit. “Call it what you want,” he responded, “but I don’t think either one of us are going to get a lot of sleep tonight.” She nodded to him as he pointed to the microwave.

He walked into his bedroom and closed the door. He tried to keep his focus on one thing at a time. He grabbed a pair of sweats from his hamper and a t-shirt. He switched out of his suit for the more comfortable attire. Soon, he could make out the sounds of the kernels popping in the microwave. He needed any little distraction to keep him from thinking about her voice earlier today. Anything to block out the urge to go run down Rubin Marcus and anything to keep him from looking at his sister like a common whore.

He walked out of his room, “Anything good on?” he asked. She nodded to him, “Yup, Friday the 13th.” He shook his head and asked with a grin, “You really want to watch a horror movie?” “Yes,” she said. “In some weird sadistic way, they make me feel better. Besides, it’s a Kevin Bacon classic.” Beep. They both went to stand up, but he caught her leg and motioned for her to sit. He went to the cupboard and pulled out a bowl as he pushed the open button on the microwave. He pulled open the bag being sure to keep his face clear of the steam steadily rising from it. As it dissipated he dumped the full bag into the bowl. He grabbed salt from beside the bowl and headed back into the living room making himself comfortable beside her.

He placed the bowl down between them and the salt on the table as he focused on the TV. The sounds of screaming and random horrifying music filled his ears and for that moment it was just him and her. It was as if he just came home from hanging out with his friends to find his nine year old sister, who happened to sneak downstairs after bed time, watching the late show in the living room. He remembered thinking how independent she was then and looked over at his twenty six year old little sister now. She still had that way about her that demanded everyone’s respect, but he still had that need to watch over her. He used to sit up then and watch whatever she wanted. He would even cover for her if they were caught staying up late. He watched as she grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl in between them and tried to put it into her mouth. These were the moments he was missing in his life.

She grabbed another handful with her eyes glued to the TV. “Chris, can I ask you a question?” She dropped her hand and he could sense the shift her in mood. “I knew this Kodak moment wasn’t going to last long,” she stated. “What happened?” he asked. “Elliot,” she began to protest but was quickly interrupted. “I’m not asking as a detective. I’m asking as a friend.” She turned her attention to the side table, “I told you what happened.” He shook his head and moved from the couch beside her to the coffee table placing himself in front of her, “No, before that. What happened when you left?” She took in a deep breath and he watched as she brought her hands to her eyes rubbing them deeply. This was one of the ‘tells’ she never learned to hide when she got nervous.

A second passed before she decided that she mine as well get it off her chest. “When I got out of the Army I thought I was invincible. I got shot at everyday and I walked away without a scratch. I watched my battle buddies take bullets and not once did I end up in the infirmary. I thought I was queen of the world and I could control anything; how tough could the city be? What I realized was that the Army had one thing up on the streets of New York; you have battle buddies to take the bullets for you. In New York City no one gives a damn about you.”

She shifted her sights to him, “I took odd jobs and bounced from hotel to hotel trying to find my calling. That calling never came and neither did any money. I was out on my butt and broke so I was living from dumpster to dumpster. No one wanted to hire a homeless girl. Hell, you can’t even get welfare without an address, so I was stuck. I noticed the girls on the corner didn’t have a problem with money and they were eating good food and staying clean. I was so tired of smelling and being hungry all the time, I thought becoming a hooker was a way to control things. I didn’t plan on being one forever, just until I saved up some money. I even thought about trying school. Well, you know how that ended up.”

“You could have come to me,” he softly stated. “No I couldn’t. After the fight I had something to prove. I wanted to prove that I didn’t need some plan for my life; that I could fly by night and get by. When I was a kid I wanted to be just like you, Elliot and when I got out of the military I wanted to be nothing like you. I hated that life. I hated the ass kissing and having to give a crap if my insignia was straight while I had twenty Iraqi’s shooting A-Ks at me. That was your life. You were the big bad Marine. That just wasn’t me. If I had come back I would have had to admit that my way didn’t work. I sure as hell wasn’t ready to give you the satisfaction.” He sat in silence staring at his palms. She surveyed his face for any reaction. He was completely unsure of what he wanted to say. He already had guilt over everything that had happened and now she confirmed that she blamed him for it.

He finally looked up at her, “I’m sorry I made you feel like I was constantly judging you.” Her laugh caught his attention and now he felt confusion over her reaction to his heartfelt confession. “Elliot, I don’t need any apology. I don’t blame you. I made those choices. Right or wrong, I have to deal with them, but you know what? I walked away. In my life I have faced down bullets and I have faced down beatings and I’m still here. Maybe I truly am invincible.” He shook his head and laughed at her. After everything she had been through and to be as strong as she is, “You truly amaze me.” She patted him on the shoulder, “You know, I amaze myself. Now are we done with the heart to heart because Mrs. Voorhees is about to shove an knife through some guy’s chest and I really want to watch?” She sat back turning her gaze to the screen.

He moved back to his spot on the couch and watched the gory scene play out. He could not understand why watching this could possibly make anyone feel better. He felt the couch shift under him and turned his attention back to her. She continued to shift in her seat trying to get comfortable. The pain medication must be wearing off. He got up from the couch walking over to the bar. He grabbed the Vicodin bottle and tossed it at her. She picked it up from her lap, “No, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You can’t even sit still,” he replied. He walked over to the cupboard as she responded, “If I take these I’m going to fall asleep. I want to watch the end of the movie.” He shook his head as he reached for a glass and then headed to the refrigerator, “How many times have you seen this movie? You aren’t going to miss anything. You need the sleep.” He looked into the fridge, “We forgot the juice.” Chris laughed at him as he placed the glass under the running water that was now escaping the kitchen sink faucet, “You mean I spilled my guts and I get no juice?” she questioned.

He shut off the sink and approached handing her the glass, “Sorry,” he shrugged. She popped open the bottle and threw down a couple of pills chasing it with the water. She sat back as the two became entranced by the movie. Twenty minutes passed and it was finally over. As the credits rolled Elliot looked over at Chris who was now fast asleep slumped over the headrest to her right. He picked up the popcorn bowl from between them and placed it on the coffee table. He walked over to the TV and pressed the power button then walked over to her. He pushed her legs on to the couch and tried to even out her body. She was completely out cold not responding to any of his movements. He pulled the blanket down over her and headed to his own bed. His head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes. The world quickly disappeared.

Elliot eyes flew open as the loud scream filled the apartment. Instinctively he jolted to his side table removing the revolver from the small drawer. He leapt up from the bed and grabbed onto the door. 1,2,3. He pulled open the door and pointed the gun into the darkness. “Chris” he yelled as he grabbed for the light switch beside him. He could make out the soft sobs coming from the couch. He flipped on the switch. There she was, tears streaming down her face, now in shock as she stared down the barrel of his pistol. He dropped the gun as he ran to her side, “You alright?” he asked. She shook him off, “Just a bad dream. I’m fine.” He continued to watch her eyes as they shifted through the room. Something had her scared. “You sure?” he re-iterated the question. She nodded to him and as her breathing calmed so did he.

He walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a paper towel. Before walking it over to her he quickly took the pistol into his room and placed it on the bed. “Where do you keep that thing?” she asked as she wiped the tears from her face. “Don’t worry about it. You need to go back to sleep,” he began to wipe the sand from his eyes. “I can’t,” she softly stated keeping her eyes ahead of her. He recognized the fearful expression that shot across her face. It was the same expression he noticed earlier in the interrogation room. She wasn’t as okay as she wanted everyone to believe. He again took a seat on the coffee table in front of her. “Chris, maybe you need to talk to someone. I have a friend I know could help.” She shook her head, “No way. I don’t want to have to re-live any of it again. I just want to move on.”

He tried speaking in a calming tone, “You’re going to have to talk to someone. You have to testify against Marcus.” Her eyes grew wide as she stared him down, “What? I’m not testifying.” That was not what he wanted to hear. He truly wanted to be understanding, but this was something she had no choice over. He stood from the table, “You have to testify. That’s the only way you stay out of jail and we put Marcus away.” She threw the blanket off of her legs and stood up in front of him, “I never agreed to that. You think I want to sit in front of a jury and admit what I let him do to me? It’s bad enough I had to admit it to you and Olivia. It’s bad enough that I have to live with it. There is no way I’m letting twelve strangers sit on their little pedestals and judge me,” she allowed her frustration to take her over as she raised her voice. Elliot allowed his anger to cover his concern as he too began yelling, “This isn’t debatable. You’re testifying against that scum bag. Do you really want to go to jail for him?” She shot back, “This isn’t about him; it’s about you. You want to be the big hero. You want to swoop in and save the day. Another case solved. Can you not be a cop for once?”

He listened to her words and couldn’t understand how she truly didn’t see what he was trying to do. He had to make her understand. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you. You don’t want to admit it, but I know you’re scared. You need to face this and stop trying to cover it with a smile. I love you, Chris. Let me help you.” She shook her head as her tone became less aggressive, “You can’t help me. You can’t even deal with your own problems. You can’t take it back and you can’t protect me from what’s in my head just like I can’t protect you from what is in yours. What happened between you and Kathy?” Elliot quickly cut off all emotion and stared at her, “I’m not talking about that, Chris.”

She shook her head, “Exactly. We both run from our problems, Elliot, so stop trying to ignore yours by solving mine. You can’t save me from what happened. I have to deal with this my own way.”

The room became silent. The two siblings taking a different corner as they each attempted to calm themselves down. Neither one was ready to back down, but neither one wanted to continue the fight. Elliot turned his back to her as he began yawning. Chris was the first to speak, “Go back to bed,” she stated. “No, we need to deal with this now,” he replied back. She tried to take the common sense approach, “We aren’t going to solve anything tonight and my back is starting to hurt. We can deal with it tomorrow.” He turned to the kitchen, “I’ll get you a glass of water.” Her frustration once again became evident in her voice, “No. I’m a big girl now, I can get my own water. If I need you, you are two steps away. Go back to bed. We can settle this in the morning.”

He wanted to argue, but the adrenaline that was keeping him awake was no longer surging through him. He yawned once again and this time he couldn’t hide it. She was right. He was only a door away. He couldn’t believe he was about to give in, but his bed was calling him and he didn’t have the energy left to continue the fight. “I can stay up if you need me,” he stated still trying to be the good big brother. “I’m really not in the mood to yell at you. Once I take the pills I’ll be out. Go.” She gave him the evil eye as he turned to reply, but gave up as she walked toward the kitchen. He took one last deep breath and headed to his door.

As the sounds of the rushing water became clear he walked into his room and closed the door. He picked his revolver up from the bed and placed it back in his night table. He sat on the bed and stared out the window at the street below. There was nothing out there, no cars passing, no one yelling, just complete calm. Maybe it was a sign that he too should go back to the calm world of slumber. He laid back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. The projection screen appeared as the images played out on the ceiling above. He wanted to yell, he wanted to cry, he just wanted them to stop, but he was too tired to fight back. He began to breath slowly letting the calm over take him. Soon he found the soothing sensation the darkness cast over him.

Beep. Beep. Beep. He rolled over smacking his alarm clock’s obnoxious disturbance away. He had forgotten to turn it off before he fell asleep last night. He opened his eyes trying to push the grogginess away. It was way too early to be up after the long night. The normal morning sensation took him over and he headed to the bathroom to relieve himself. Still extremely drowsy he exited the bathroom and sat on his bed. He wanted to go back to sleep, but got the aching feeling to check on Chris. Hopefully she hadn’t heard the alarm clock and was still fast asleep. He didn’t hear any movement. He stood up and peaked out the door. He squinted attempting to see through the darkness covering the room. “Chris?” he whispered. He received no response. He didn’t want to intentionally wake her if she was still asleep, but he didn’t feel like walking all the way over to the couch. He flipped on the light switch. He was now instantly blasted awake.

The couch was empty. He walked to the front door opening it and looking outside. She was nowhere to be found. He turned back to the living room, inspecting it. The blanket was neatly folded on the back of the couch and her bag was gone. He quickly walked back into his room approaching his cell phone sitting on the bedside table. He sat on the bed as he dialed. The phone rang in his ear and a thought finally dawned on him. A voice greeted him from the other end as he opened up the drawer to his nightstand and peered in. He answered the voice, “Olivia, Chris is gone,” and so was his gun.