Title: Walking Separate Paths
Author: Tara
Rating: R/NC-17 (m/f, m/m)
Pairings: Benson/Stabler, Stabler/Beecher, Beecher/Keller, Keller/m
Summary: This is technically an AU: We know that OZ is definitely in NY, and Stabler’s wife Kathy hasn’t left yet. This is set around OZ Season 5. A child prostitution ring leaves Elliot with new answers to his own origins, and redefines a new meaning for family. I suck at writing Summaries, but this is one of my better pieces of fanfic, so enjoy.
CHAPTER IX:
484 Columbus Avenue and West 82nd 12:22 p.m.
She stretched, her arms pulling above her head to grab her headboard, pulling upward firmly, feeling he knots in her shoulders and back pop and release even as the first twinges of pain made their way into her half awake mind. Her right hip exploded into agony as she moved her legs apart, her eyes snapping open at the pain.
Olivia sat up, nose wrinkling at the smell in the small enclosed room. If she could have moved she would have opened the window, but for a moment, she needed to clear the cobwebs out of her head. What the...?
Then she remembered, images floating back to her in perfect clarity...Elliot growling into her ears as he fucked her from behind, his mouth biting into her shoulder as she came around him...his cock pulsing inside of her...They'd on her couch, the floor, her bed over and over again. She'd begged him to hurt her...and he HAD. She couldn't believe it. God, she was fucked up. She covered her face with her hands, the edges of her fingers brushing past bruises and bite marks on her neck and shoulders.
She'd wanted this, hadn't she? She'd wanted to screw him so badly, she just knew that she'd never imagined it being like this, and she didn't know how the hell she'd face him later. What the hell was she going to do? She'd fucked her partner and best friend, her MARRIED partner, no less. The biggest bruises on her arms and hips were from where his wedding band had dug into her skin as he'd held on for leverage. Her thighs and legs had the marks of his hands on them, and for a moment, she felt a brief flame of satisfaction as she remembered clawing down his back, her nails digging into his skin, he teeth biting his lips, his throat. She'd left her own marks, and he'd wear them today just as she wore him. She'd marked her claim, and she felt...satisfaction.
Liv rose, very slowly, allowing her legs just enough time to adjust to her weight again before rummaging around on the floor for the towel she had dropped the night before. She froze, feeling the stickiness between her thighs. Could all of that be her? She walked quickly into the bathroom and dropped the towel in front of the mirror. Slowly, she parted her thighs and scrubbed her hands over sensitive flesh.
She was covered in herself, and from the smell, lube from the condoms, but there seemed to be too much to just be her.
She straightened up, stalking over to the shower, turning on the water as hot as she could stand it. She wasn't going to think about it, she wasn't. She was going to shower, and face the day...and him.
Crossroads Hotel, off of Route 298, Albany, NY: 6:16 a.m.
The knocking on the door went unanswered, and Lenny paused for a moment. He's probably still asleep. Fucking Christ. If I'd been through what he'd gone through for the past two days, I'd sleep for a week.
"Elliot!" There was no answer, either to his voice, or the repeated knocking. His hand reached for the doorknob, and turned. It stopped, about halfway, and then caught. Flimsy lock. He applied a little pressure upwards against the handle and turned it again. The lock slipped off its jamb and the door swung open.
The room was furnished in a decor that probably had seen its best days in the late sixties, but since he could definitely remember the sixties, he wasn't going to comment. He wasn't concerned about bad color choices anyway. He was concerned though, by the fact that the bed was empty, although, from the mussed up sheets, it had obviously been slept in.
"Stabler?" He scanned the room again, this time more slowly, and his eyes caught the closed bathroom door on the far wall. A thin strip of light pooled out from under the wood, sliding towards the wall. He walked towards the door, and knocked on the scratched varnish.
"Hey, Stabler, you in there?" No answer. He knocked again, this time louder. "Elliot, hey son, come on, we need to leave for Oswald in 15."
Again, no answer. He was beginning to worry. Pressing his ear to the door, he heard the faint sound of water running. "Elliot?"
"Look son, if you can hear me, I'm coming in, so please don't be on the bowl or anything."
His hand turned the knob and pushed it in. The whole room was covered in steam, and little room was as hot as a sauna. He looked towards the shower. Steam was billowing up towards the ceiling, and as he moved towards it, he made sure that the door stayed open behind him to let some fresh air in. Had he passed out from the heat? Lenny didn't know, but with the temperature in here, he sure as hell wouldn't be surprised.
"Stabler?" Briscoe pulled open the curtain, reaching towards the faucet with his other hand. His actions were so automatic, that he didn't even recognize the figure sitting in the tub until he'd managed to turn the water off.
"Oh Fuck."
The man in the tub had been sitting in the full force of the spray, his chin resting on his knees as his arms wrapped around his legs. The skin on his back was a deep angry red from the heat, mottled with deep scratches and gouges from nape of neck to hip.
Later on, he patted himself on the back for his quick recovery, but for now, his hand on Elliot’s shoulder was enough to startle the other man out of his stupor. When he finally raised his head, his eyes were red-rimmed, and his jaw was tight.
“Elliot, I’m your friend and I’m not going to ask what the hell is gong on, but I AM going to say a few things. One, Cragen’s outside. He wants to leave in a 15 minutes.”
Nod.
“Two, when we get up to Oswald, you’re going to have a medic look at your back. I don’t know what’s going on, but you need help, and you back looks like raw hamburger.”
Pause…five seconds…another nod.
“Good, now do you need help getting out?”
Head shake in the negative.
Elliot uncurled his long body from the floor of the tiny tub slowly, leaving Lenny just a moment to wonder how the hell he’d managed to fit in there in the first place. He handed the shivering man a towel, and stepped back as Stabler wrapped it around his hips. The quiet man stepped past, into the chill of the bedroom.
Up close, Lenny could see that some of the gouges on the other man were relatively deep, some had even scabbed over with dried blood. However, it was the purplish blue bite at the junction between shoulder and neck that REALLY caught his attention. He wasn’t about to make any comments on Elliot’s sex life, but that bite was fresh; someone had worked him over good. He smirked to himself, shook his head and walked out the door. He’d pry the name of the hellion Stabler had fucked around with out of him sooner or later. Married people just didn’t fuck like that. Not after 20 years, at least.
“Did you wake him up?” Don’s voice crowded into his thoughts.
“Yeah, he’ll be out in a minute.”
“Good, George gave me these for you and Elliot. He’ll meet us by the cars after he checks us out.” He handed Lenny up cup of coffee, which was accepted gratefully.
Popping the tab open on his take out cup, Briscoe sipped the coffee slowly. Tossing Cragen his keys, he nodded towards the door of Stabler’s room. “Go warm up the car, Don. I’ll grab Elliot and we can meet you and Huang over there.” Don gave him an eyebrow, but nodded an affirmative.
It was a few minutes more before Elliot emerged, clean and quiet, if a little rumpled. He looked at Briscoe with an inquiring eye.
“I told Cragen that I’d wait for you. Here.” He handed him a coffee.
Pause...
“Are you ok?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t know anything any more. God, everything’s so fucked up. I don’t know where the hell I’m going anymore. I just need…something.” he sipped again, wincing as the coffee burned his tongue.
“Can I just deal with the hard questions later?”
“Believe me, son, in a little while, they’re only going to get harder.”
“So you keep telling me. Stop it, or I might not laugh at the punch line.”
“I just wanted to let you know that you can talk to me, if you want. You’re going to be dealing with a lot over the next few days, and I want you to know that there’s someone on your side. I’m not going to give you any unsolicited advice. That’s Don’s job.”
That one got a chuckle, at least.
“But I sure as hell don’t want you thinking that just because I’m not saying anything doesn’t mean that I’m not worried, Stabler. I’ve been doing this shit a hell of a lot longer than you, and I’ve snapped more times than I can count. You got it?”
They woke almost simultaneously, Chris’ stretching against his sheets finally pulling Toby into consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, vaguely realizing that he was wrapped around Chris. Another moment confirmed that they weren’t in their pod; they were still in isolation room D, in the hospital. He’d been allowed to spend the night with Chris. He didn’t even remember falling asleep.
He didn’t know what diety he had to thank for this unexpected pleasure, he’d ask Said about that later. For now, he was with Chris, and no matter what happened, for right now, everything was ok with his world. It had taken him years to learn, but he’d learned to covet the moments. Each single drop of time that was lost was a wasted moment. Each moment existed until itself, like drops of mercury coming together to form the whole. When you had nothing to do but count each moment, you learned to appreciate them more.
Chris stretched again, his arms sliding tighter around Toby’s waist even as his head angled to catch his lover’s eye.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”
“Not that I’m not appreciative or anything, Toby, but where in the hell are we, and why are you in bed with me? Last time I checked, I hadn’t done anything that God felt like rewarding.” He paused, and his hands moved lower, sliding up Toby’s thighs. “On second thought, why aren’t you naked?” His voice dropped to a low timbre, and his stubble scratched along the sensitive skin on Toby’s neck.
His skin rippled out in goosebumps, and for a moment, his priorities were fucked. He was seriously considering the option. A sound from his left broke into his reverie.
“Chris, stop.”
Chris’ tongue was tracing the shell of his ear.
He hissed in pleasure. “No! Chris, please stop.”
“Yes, please Christopher, if you have any interest in not performing for an audience I’d suggest that you stop now.” Sister Pete’s voice was half laughing, half embarrassed. It did serve its intended purpose though. Chris froze, and his head and shoulders shot off the pillow to peer into the darkness of the room.
“Sister Pete?”
“Over here, Chris.”
She was sitting up on a cot that had been placed to the left of the bed. She was very rumpled, and looked exhausted.
“Ok, now I know I’m in fucking hell. Toby, what the fuck is going on? This is God’s idea of a joke, to send me a nun to preach at me while I’m in bed about to fuck another guy.”
Pete’s voice was definitely laughing now. “Good to see that smacking your head hasn’t effected your ability to complain, Chris. Dr. Nathan is going to want to check you out, and I’m sure you’d like something to eat. Then we’ll talk. Agreed?”
“Sure thing, Sis. Whatever you say.” Chris’ smirk was back, and Toby rolled his eyes. He groaned inwardly. Everything was coming to a head, and the last thing he needed was for Chris to be cocky and uncooperative.
He was startled out of his thoughts as Chris swung his body out of bed, landing heavily, and swaying for a moment. Pete grabbed his arm.
“Ok now?”
He shook off her hands. “Yeah, look, I’ve been hit pretty hard my whole life. A good crack in the head ain’t gonna stop me now.” He straightened, and moved to strip off the hospital gown. “You gonna stay for the show, or do you feel like watching me take a piss?”
Naked now, hard on poking up towards his belly, his crossed his arms over his chest and smirked, leaning back against the bed.
“CHRIS!” Toby hissed. Grabbing the nun by the arm, he ushered her out of the room.
She collapsed against the wall outside, face red with barely contained laughter. He could only watch as her shoulders shook as she fought for control.
“Pete?”
“I’m…<chuckle>…sorry Tobias. Just give me a moment to collect myself. Does he ALWAYS have to do that?”
“Yup, Sister, I’d have to say that Chris ALWAYS puts his best foot forward.”
~~~
“I don’t believe it.” The voice was low, but it carried over the empty gym.
“I know. It’s fucking wild. After all this time, having something like this fall into our laps is just goddamn priceless.”
“How did he find out?”
“I don’t know, but apparently he’s been talking to the guy for a few months, and everything checks out. Keller’s his own personal property, and he’s not going to sell out the right to kill him unless it’s for a shit load of money.”
“What’s up with him and Kosygin?”
“Nobody knows. It’s all been very hush hush. I doubt even Robson knows what’s up.”
“He’s got something else coming though. Did Vern conveniently forget that Beecher is Keller’s crazy prag?
Beecher’s gonna declare war when he finds out Vern’s going to sell Keller over to this guy. I still have no clue how the hell he thinks he’s going to pull it off. How the hell does he think he’s getting Keller out of OZ alive?”
“Who said anything about alive? For my money, Vern’s better off mailing out the pieces.”
*****
Miguel backed away slowly, his shoes making no noise as he moved. Turning, he headed back down the hall.
~ Hussy & Wicked 2/2004 ~ Everything here is purely fiction and the product of someones dark twisted fantasy. Any actual persons mentioned are not known or affiliated with this site or its Web Mistresses no matter how much we may wish! Any stories involving real persons are purely just that, stories and a product of the author's own fantasies. No events are claimed to be true nor are they meant to be taken as a reflection of that person's actual life, personality, etc. In other words, we strongly state this is all FICTION so do not sue! The fabulously "wicked" graphics are all the product of Wicked. ~