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drsquidloveSomeone Like You
by Dr Squidlove
drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
Oz/Law & Order: SVU crossover
Tobias Beecher's trying to rebuild his family in the shadow of the man he was in prison. Elliot Stabler's struggling to continue in the wake of divorce while his job eats away at his soul. It makes for an odd friendship, but it works.
Rated R for violence and explicit references to sexual violence.
Wordcount this post: 4344
Full headers are on chapter 1.
Oz is the property of Tom Fontana and HBO. Law & Order: SVU is the property of Dick Wolf and NBC. The characters are used without permission, but with much appreciation.
Someone Like You
chapter 29: Interrogation
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 28, Loophole:
Elliot told Toby Maureen knew about them and wanted to meet him. Toby felt the need to sit down. Despite Toby's terror, dinner with Maureen went really well. Though it did remind Elliot of all the emotional mines lying in wait.
Toby woke to find Elliot cuddled around him, after he'd used his own key to get in in the wee hours. It was nice.
Elliot got called to a meeting with an FBI agent asking about Toby. He imagined all the worst possible things this Agent Pierce Taylor could want to discuss, and wibbled about whether to call Toby.
Meanwhile, Toby had a pleasant phone call with Harry.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Elliot had worked himself up to half an ulcer by the time he stepped out of the elevator. He should have called Toby. Unless he was blowing this up for nothing. Either way, Toby was going to be furious.
Munch wandered up. "Captain's looking for you."
"Yeah, I know." They headed into the pen just as Cragen stepped out of his office.
"Elliot, this is-"
"Fuck me." A suited man stepped up beside Cragen, looking exactly like an FBI agent, even if he didn't sound like one. But his eyes were wide, and he was staring like Elliot had just risen from the dead.
Cragen cut a glance at him, and finished, "Agent Pierce Taylor."
The agent stared some more, and then glanced to Cragen. "This is Elliot Stabler? How long have you worked with him?"
"I've been his captain for nine years. Why?"
Agent Taylor kept right on staring. "We're going to need a private room."
The knot in Elliot's gut tightened.
"Elliot can show you to an interrogation room."
"No," Taylor said firmly. "Private."
Cragen looked between them, obviously figuring out there was more going on than some professional courtesy. "Is there an issue here? If you're investigating-"
"No," Elliot cut in. "He wants to know about an old witness of ours."
Cragen didn't believe him, but he backed off. "You can have my office."
The agent nodded. "Thank you, Captain Cragen."
The captain's office was where Elliot went to get ripped, and rarely anything good. He was on a better footing in his own space. "An interrogation room will be fine." Cragen would keep the area clear. Elliot was going to find out what the hell was going on, and then he was going to start pulling whatever strings he had to protect Toby. Elliot led the way, pulling on the shell that had taken him through more interrogations than he could remember. He checked the view and the sound to the ante-room were off, made sure the door between them was ajar so no one could sneak in to eavesdrop, and was about to slide into a chair when Taylor asked, "Are you fucking him?"
Elliot's ass hit the seat. "Am I what?" There was roaring in his ears. An FBI agent just asked if he was fucking Toby. This was how he was going to be outed? By some spook in a suit? He wasn't ready for this. Maybe he was ready to tackle his family but not the NYPD, not for Munch and Finn's sly digs or sideways looks from the uniforms or to be the newest gossip around the DA's office.
And not for it all to come out over a mafia hit. He wouldn't have a job when this was done.
Taylor was still standing in the doorway, watching him, looking smug. "I have to admit, you're a twist I didn't see coming."
That was mutual. Weeks of idle thoughts of careful conversations in the distant future with Liv and Cragen were washed away under rising panic. Outed, just like that. By a Federal Agent investigating Toby on suspicion of murder. Panic was clawing at Elliot's mind, as he thought of all the ways he'd use that information in Taylor's place. A cop dating a man, a felon, maybe a murderer. So much for his shell; Elliot had cracked before he'd even sat down. Elliot was watching the fuse burn down on a disaster.
He forced himself to focus, remember the rules of interrogation. Taylor had the power as long as Elliot seemed afraid of what they both knew. But still, he almost choked as he asked, "You have a problem with two men fucking each other?"
"I guess that depends a lot on the situation. Your situation is interesting."
Screw playing games. It was time for fight mode. "You've got thirty seconds to convince me you have business here or I'm going to throw you out on your ass and contact my union rep."
Taylor slid a hand into his trouser pocket. He knew he had all the cards right now. "Beecher never mentioned me? I was the lead agent on his children's kidnap."
"Really?" They'd never talked about the police involved. This had to be about Hank. Toby might go back to prison.
"How's Holly doing?" Taylor was digging, trying to figure out how well Elliot knew him.
"Fine, so far as I know. Do I need to tell Beecher to get a lawyer?" 'Beecher' he'd called him, like they were just fuck-buddies.
Taylor finally came in and sat, dropping a file on the table. "Put your hackles down, Detective. I've never chased Beecher for anything more than obstruction of justice. I just want him to help me close a file on a fellow prisoner he's protected."
Elliot wasn't buying it. Not after the dance they'd done so far. He wished he could talk to Toby, get some idea what the hell this guy was after. He should have called him.
Taylor watched him quietly for a few minutes, unaffected by Elliot's glare. "Tell me: what do you know about Christopher Keller?"
The mysterious Chris. "I've heard of him."
"Him and Beecher were lovers in Oz."
"I've also heard he's dead."
"Have you heard we looked at him for the kidnap?"
Elliot hid his surprise, this time. "I heard you caught the guy who did it, and hosed the case." If this was about Hank, Elliot needed to know.
Genuine guilt flickered through Taylor's eyes. "Sometimes a case goes down. You must know that as well as anyone." He shook his head. "We had Hank Schillinger dead to rights shoving Holly out of the van, and some idiot in forensics screwed the paperwork."
Elliot did know how it went, but he was running short on charity right now. "Can we circle back to the point? I've got investigations underway."
"Certainly, Detective."
Taylor rifled through his file and tossed a photo across the desk. Elliot picked it up. It was a crime scene, a body lying in the woods. Caucasian male, naked, face down but maybe early twenties from the build. Bruises over his body from a severe beating. On his inner thighs - probably sodomised. On his throat - strangulation. "Bryce Tibbets, raped and killed May '98."
Another photo fell in front of him. A similar scene, strong correlation on the injuries; Elliot would have banked it was the same perp. "Mark Carachi, raped and killed March '98." And another, this time the body too decayed to read the evidence from a photo, but Elliot grasped the pattern. "Byam Lewis, raped and killed January '98." The guy who did this was aggressive, cold and methodical, and at first pass Elliot would class him as some kind of poster child for sociopathy.
Elliot was scanning the photos for clues, until the other chair creaked and he put all the pieces together.
"You think Christopher Keller did this." The guy Toby still longed for.
"I know he did."
"And you think Toby knew? You think Toby would protect a rapist?" After what happened to him? There was no fucking way. Elliot could buy Toby finding comfort with a guy who committed armed robbery, but not someone who did this. This was brutal.
"He knew." Taylor tapped the first photo. "I had Keller on death row for this one, but Beecher got it overturned. One of those technicalities, just like Hank Schillinger."
There was no way.
More photos floated across the table, from the same three scenes, from the autopsies. Rope burns on the men's wrists. Blood from rectal tearing. You could see the profile of the second man's face, eyes puffy from tears. Whoever did this had taken his time. Enjoyed the power.
Elliot dragged his eyes up. "Keller's dead."
"I still have two more sets of parents who want confirmation of who did this to their boys. You must understand that." Elliot did. "Besides - how many years have you been doing sex crimes, Detective? You want to tell me which of these you think was Keller's first rape and murder?"
None of them. Three scenes, this similar. These weren't the first.
If Toby got the conviction overturned, it was because Chris was innocent. Toby couldn't have believed Chris committed these murders. Elliot swallowed his urge to start defending Toby out loud. He wasn't going to give this guy anything until Toby had a chance to explain. There was an explanation for this.
Taylor stood and gathered up the photos, all but the first three, stuffing the rest back in his folder. "You can keep those. And one more." A mug shot was laid down, and Elliot stopped breathing. "That's Christopher Keller."
Three men, raped, tortured and murdered, but Elliot couldn't take his eyes off the mug shot. It wasn't just a likeness. It could have been him. These three men died in terror, staring at Elliot's face.
There could be ten different reasons why Toby didn't know or didn't believe this was Chris Keller's work. None of them explained the likeness. No wonder Toby had never wanted to talk about Chris. He was living out some twisted substitute fantasy.
Chris Keller stared out from his mug shot.
Elliot had fallen in love with him. He loved Toby. And this whole time Toby had just been fucking his dead serial killer boyfriend.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Elliot?" Liv's gentle voice.
Elliot snatched up the mug shot and slid it into his breast pocket, but she was standing beside him before he could do anything about the crime scene photos.
He heard her soft breath out, her disgust at the brutality, but she picked up the photo of Bryce Tibbets, the murder that had put Toby's lover on death row. The case Toby overturned. "Is the FBI giving us a case?"
"No." Elliot shuffled the photos together, wished Taylor had left him a folder to hide them in.
The case Toby overturned? Toby was disbarred. He was in real estate. That didn't make sense.
"Elliot?"
Chris died before Toby even got out, Elliot was sure. He died long before Elliot met Toby. This was bullshit. Taylor was feeding Elliot a line of shit.
That didn't explain the mug shot.
Elliot was numb. All over: his feet and his hands, in his chest. None of this made sense. Toby had lied to him. How many lies?
Elliot scooped up the pictures and headed for the door, snatched up an empty file folder as he passed his desk. He heard Cragen calling his name as he headed through the pen, but he kept going. There was nothing he'd say that would help his case if he stayed. He had to get out of here.
He had his key in the door of the car when someone grabbed him, he swung around with his fist raised to find Olivia with her hands up.
"Okay, Elliot, now I'm definitely not going to let you drive."
Elliot shook, let out a breath, dropped his fist. "Leave me the fuck alone, Liv."
She snatched the keys from the door. "You tell me where we're going, I'll drive."
Elliot slammed his hand against the car door. He had to get out of here.
"Anywhere you want. Do you want to go home? Do you want to go to Toby's?"
Elliot huffed. Yeah, he wanted Toby to tell him everything was all right, not to stress about whatever was bothering him.
Toby had been lying to him from the start.
"Has something happened to Toby? Elliot, will you damn-well talk to me?"
He couldn't drive. He didn't even know which way was up. "I want to go to Toby's."
"Okay." He could hear the relief in her voice. "Get in. I'll take you there."
He marched around the car and dropped into the passenger seat, the file of photos bending in his grip.
Olivia swung the car out, holding her tongue for the moment.
The traffic through Manhattan was creeping. Elliot's mind cycled around and around. What was he going to say when he got there? Where the hell did it start?
"Is this about Toby? Is he in trouble?"
Only with Elliot. Only for being a lying bastard, who'd played Elliot for a fool. This whole situation was insane. Elliot put his hand over his breast pocket, felt the heavy card of the mug shot, still there. He wanted to take it out and see if he was crazy, if maybe he'd just overreacted to a vague likeness, but he couldn't let Olivia see.
"You sure you don't want to talk, Elliot?"
She prodded him all the way to Toby's apartment, and double-parked across the street. Elliot stared up at the window. The drive had brought a sense of cold calm. There had to be some kind of explanation. It had to be some kind of massive misunderstanding. Maybe Taylor was a nut job and the mugshot was a photoshop deal. That was as sane as any other theory going.
Or how damaged had Toby been? Elliot's stomach clenched. In the wake of Vern's sadism, maybe he'd been ripe for picking by the next psychopath, pragged to a man who made him believe it was love? It wasn't like they'd never seen that before, victims who loved their captors. If Toby was that fucked up, could Elliot deal with it?
"I'm fine." He climbed out of the car, realised he'd almost left the photos behind and snatched up the file, managed to throw Olivia a thank you. He barely felt the steps under his feet as he made his way up the stairs.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Toby slid the health history form aside, signed the internet user agreement, and picked up the next sheet. 'Student personality evaluation.' They wanted to know about Holly's temperament, hobbies, issues. Putting his daughter into middle school took more paperwork than getting parole.
The sound of a key in the door caught his attention, and he smiled when it swung open. "Elliot! I didn't expect you tonight." He liked the surprise. He checked the clock as he crossed to greet him. "And you're early. You get time off for good behaviour?"
There was a strange light in Elliot's eyes. He threw out a "Hi," as he walked in, looking around instead of at Toby, took a step towards the dining table and then he caught Toby's arm and dragged him to the couch, sat beside him.
"Is something wrong?"
A couple of aborted attempts to speak, ratcheting up Toby's worry until he asked, "Tell me about Chris."
Toby definitely didn't want to do that. "I've told you enough about him."
"You've hardly told me anything. I found out about the armed robbery from Holly."
"And I told you what happened. What does it matter? That was a whole other life."
Elliot wasn't letting go, and it made Toby nervous. What the hell brought this on? Elliot licked his lip, thinking. "He came after Vern, right?"
After Vern? There was no 'after Vern', only different battles in their long, fucked-up war. "Chris showed up about six months after I got out of Vern's pod."
"Did you love him?"
Toby had told him he did, more than once. "Why are you asking?"
Elliot took his hand. "I need to know if he hurt you, like Vern did. If you were his..."
Toby snatched back his hand. "His bitch?"
"I wasn't going to say-"
"But that's what you were going to mean. You want to know if Vern fucked me up so much I pragged myself to some other piece of shit."
Elliot just looked at him, waiting for an answer.
"No!" Toby forced his voice down. "Yes, Elliot, I loved him. Is that what you want to hear? What the fuck does it matter?"
"And did you ever care about me? Or have you been fucking him this whole time?" Elliot pulled a photo out of his shirt pocket and Toby knew what it was before that smirking face fell to the coffee table. He reached for it, unthinking, and then realised what this meant. A shudder went through Toby like the slam of a prison gate.
He picked up the photo. "I don't have any photos of him."
"You don't need them, do you? You have me."
Chris in the photo looked strange after all these months of staring at Elliot's face, blending memories. He looked wrong, jarring. Not like Elliot at all. Like a brother, maybe, not the clone Toby had imagined back in November.
It hit Toby: he'd just lost Elliot. This relationship was over. He'd been prepared for it. Since the start, he'd known there was an expiry date, but at some point he'd bought in. Let himself believe. "Please let me explain."
"Explain?" Elliot hissed. He stood and shoved a folder into Toby's hands. "How about you explain these?"
Toby didn't open it. If Elliot had his hands on Chris's mugshot, then Toby knew exactly what was inside here. He knew who it came from. This whole thing with Elliot was done. "The FBI never proved it was Chris."
"But you know he did them."
Toby had lied to Katherine and he'd lied to Taylor but now he was mute.
Elliot's hands were fists, the muscles in his arms hard with tension. Danger clung to him like a mist. Elliot was struggling not to grab Toby and hurt him, and oh the irony, that he'd never seemed so much like Chris as he did right now. Quietly, sharp as a knife, Elliot asked, "Do you get what I do, Toby?"
"I know. You catch rapists and killers."
He reached down to flip open the folder, exposing crime scene photos Toby hadn't seen in years. "I look the parents of children like this," he pointed to Bryce Tibbets, "and this," to Mark Carachi, "and this," to Byam Lewis, "in the eye, and I tell them I'm going to find the sick fuck who did it, and bring them some measure of peace."
Staring at the photos was easier than meeting Elliot's eyes. Toby knew Chris did these. It was one of the million shames he shied away from every day. Ronnie Barlog could have brought those parents that measure of peace, but Toby handed him to Chris, might as well have snapped his neck with his own hands. Elliot would never imagine that about Toby. Or never had before today. Toby wondered what would happen if right now he looked Elliot in the eye and told him what he did to Metzger. An officer of the law. First-degree murder: malice aforethought, bare hands, the darkest pleasure of his life. What would Elliot say if Toby told him he could still get hard at the memory of it?
What would Elliot say if Toby told him he traded Adam Guenzel to his own rapist just so he could see Chris on death row?
He'd walk away in disgust. Which was exactly what he was going to do tonight anyway. Toby looked up, started tallying the details: the ugly twist of Elliot's mouth, the broad shoulders, the throbbing energy as he paced the room. Toby was never going to see him again.
"Did you withhold information? Protect him?" He snatched up the photo of Tibbets, naked and bruised and dead. "Did you get down on your knees for the man who did this?"
"Yes. More times than I can count."
The photo was tossed back in Toby's lap and Elliot grabbed the mugshot as he moved away, putting space between them but his voice was still low, dangerous. "Knowing he raped those boys, you got down on your knees and had sex with him. Consensual sex."
Toby jumped to his feet and followed him, just a little threat to back him up, a little peek at Prisoner #97B412. "We did everything." Right in Elliot's face, his wiry body up against all Elliot's bulk. "I sucked his cock. We fucked each other up the ass and kissed and bled and held each other through the nightmares-"
"A real Harlequin romance."
"Elliot, I'm a killer and a terrible father and a disappointment of a son. You think you can make me feel bad about loving someone?"
"Loving someone?" Elliot pushed him back, snarling. "A serial killer. A serial rapist. What a massive disappointment I must be."
Toby held his ground. He'd had to swing a shiv to hurt Chris, had to fuck strangers. With Elliot it only took words, and Toby was a fucking black belt in words. "You certainly don't fuck like Chris, but you were good enough in a pinch."
Elliot roared and shoved Toby up against the wall, and if felt so fucking good, like Toby was alive. Like Chris was alive.
"You remind me of him right now."
Toby almost laughed when Elliot's elbow lifted, until he heard a shriek. Too late to stop the crash across his face, the crack and flash of his head bouncing off the wall, a beat of confusion before the pain tore through.
Holly's small body hit him like another blow, locking around his waist as she wailed in fear. Toby grabbed her close and pulled her face to his neck to muffle her. "It's okay, honey, it's okay." It hurt to talk. His ears were ringing. Seconds passed before he thought to open his eyes.
Elliot was staring at them in disbelief, cradling his hand. Elliot had punched him.
What had Toby done? He reached a hand out. "Elliot, I'm sorry, please don't do anything stupid."
Elliot's gaze drifted down to Holly, and Toby's followed. Red was staining the shoulder of her yellow blouse. What had he done?
The door slammed. Elliot was gone.
Toby slid down the wall. It had been a long time since he'd taken a punch. And now he was sitting on the floor, face screaming, Holly crying. "It's okay Holly. It's okay." It wasn't okay. The look on Elliot's face...
Why had Toby done that? Because he wanted it. He'd wanted Elliot to lose control. And he'd won.
"Shhhhh. He's gone."
Holly tightened her grip, sobs choking down to hiccups and gasps.
Toby switched his grip on her and fumbled his phone out of his pocket and dug through his address book.
"Benson."
"Detec-" Christ, his face hurt. He was slurring. "Detective Benson, this is Tobias Beecher."
"Toby. Hi. Is something wrong?"
Everything. "It's Elliot. He's upset, and I'm worried he might do something." Toby should have taken his car keys; he shouldn't be driving in that state.
He could almost feel her stand up. "What happened?"
"Please find him and keep an eye on him tonight."
Toby hung up and thumbed his phone off before she could interrogate him. He tipped his head back and hissed as his lump hit the wall. If Elliot forgave him for everything else tonight, he was never going to forgive him for that call.
Who was he kidding? Elliot was never going to forgive him. Elliot was never going to forgive himself.
In the back of his mind, Toby could see Chris's self-satisfied smirk. 'You see, Toby? You think a fucking cop could ever love you like I did?'
Holly's hands pulled at his shirt, gently touched his face. Her face was splotchy and swollen from tears, but worse than that she looked terrified. "Dad, why did he do that?"
A sob fought its way up and he swallowed it down. "I did a terrible thing, Holly."
"That doesn't make it okay to hit you. Nobody should hit you."
"That's right." Toby pulled her close as he ran his tongue around his mouth. A couple of teeth loose, his whole jaw aching, lip split. Elliot packed one hell of a punch.
"You should go to the hospital."
"No, honey, I just need a hug. Ice and a hug."
She slid out of his arms and hurried to the kitchen. Toby struggled to his feet and was headed for the couch when he saw the photos, bloody corpses scattered over the floor, Chris's mug shot in the middle. He rushed to pick them up, but Holly was back as he picked up the last. "What's that?"
"Never mind." He slid them back in the folder, now covered in bloody fingerprints, and left them on the dining table as he collapsed on the couch with a wince.
Holly handed over a tea towel bulging with ice and climbed beside him, looking fearfully at the damage before he pressed the ice to his jaw. He grunted as the ache from the cold settled over the rest of it.
Holly rubbed a hand across her red eyes, and then her snotty nose.
Toby reached for the tissues, passed her the box. "Really Holly, I'm okay. I'm sorry we scared you."
She blew her nose. "You didn't scare me." Her breath hitched, voice trembling again. "He scared me. He hit you."
"Are you going to believe me if I tell you he's more upset about that than I am?" Probably more upset than Holly. Toby prayed Olivia could find him.
"Don't say that." She looked at the door, and then jumped up and ran over to throw the locks and put the hook on, scurried back to settle beside him with her knees drawn up, peering around the ice pack to see his face. "What was the terrible thing you did?"
Where to start? "I lied. I lied about a lot of things." And when he should have been apologising, he poured gasoline on what was left of Elliot's trust and lit a match.
"Why?"
This time the sob made it all the way up. "Because I wanted him to like me."
She matched his sob and curled up against him. "He did like you."
"Not anymore." He squeezed her, buried his nose in her hair to breathe her in, caught the sour edge of urine. She'd peed her pants. Toby was a piece of shit.
Holly held on tight. "It doesn't matter anymore. He hit you."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
end chapter 29
Feedback provides all the nutrients a growing squid needs. Concrit thoroughly welcome, warm fuzzies treasured. Here or at drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
The complete works of Dr Squidlove can be found at http://members.iinet.net.au/~tentacles/squidfic.html
S.
by Dr Squidlove
drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
Oz/Law & Order: SVU crossover
Tobias Beecher's trying to rebuild his family in the shadow of the man he was in prison. Elliot Stabler's struggling to continue in the wake of divorce while his job eats away at his soul. It makes for an odd friendship, but it works.
Rated R for violence and explicit references to sexual violence.
Wordcount this post: 4344
Full headers are on chapter 1.
Oz is the property of Tom Fontana and HBO. Law & Order: SVU is the property of Dick Wolf and NBC. The characters are used without permission, but with much appreciation.
Someone Like You
chapter 29: Interrogation
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 28, Loophole:
Elliot told Toby Maureen knew about them and wanted to meet him. Toby felt the need to sit down. Despite Toby's terror, dinner with Maureen went really well. Though it did remind Elliot of all the emotional mines lying in wait.
Toby woke to find Elliot cuddled around him, after he'd used his own key to get in in the wee hours. It was nice.
Elliot got called to a meeting with an FBI agent asking about Toby. He imagined all the worst possible things this Agent Pierce Taylor could want to discuss, and wibbled about whether to call Toby.
Meanwhile, Toby had a pleasant phone call with Harry.
Elliot had worked himself up to half an ulcer by the time he stepped out of the elevator. He should have called Toby. Unless he was blowing this up for nothing. Either way, Toby was going to be furious.
Munch wandered up. "Captain's looking for you."
"Yeah, I know." They headed into the pen just as Cragen stepped out of his office.
"Elliot, this is-"
"Fuck me." A suited man stepped up beside Cragen, looking exactly like an FBI agent, even if he didn't sound like one. But his eyes were wide, and he was staring like Elliot had just risen from the dead.
Cragen cut a glance at him, and finished, "Agent Pierce Taylor."
The agent stared some more, and then glanced to Cragen. "This is Elliot Stabler? How long have you worked with him?"
"I've been his captain for nine years. Why?"
Agent Taylor kept right on staring. "We're going to need a private room."
The knot in Elliot's gut tightened.
"Elliot can show you to an interrogation room."
"No," Taylor said firmly. "Private."
Cragen looked between them, obviously figuring out there was more going on than some professional courtesy. "Is there an issue here? If you're investigating-"
"No," Elliot cut in. "He wants to know about an old witness of ours."
Cragen didn't believe him, but he backed off. "You can have my office."
The agent nodded. "Thank you, Captain Cragen."
The captain's office was where Elliot went to get ripped, and rarely anything good. He was on a better footing in his own space. "An interrogation room will be fine." Cragen would keep the area clear. Elliot was going to find out what the hell was going on, and then he was going to start pulling whatever strings he had to protect Toby. Elliot led the way, pulling on the shell that had taken him through more interrogations than he could remember. He checked the view and the sound to the ante-room were off, made sure the door between them was ajar so no one could sneak in to eavesdrop, and was about to slide into a chair when Taylor asked, "Are you fucking him?"
Elliot's ass hit the seat. "Am I what?" There was roaring in his ears. An FBI agent just asked if he was fucking Toby. This was how he was going to be outed? By some spook in a suit? He wasn't ready for this. Maybe he was ready to tackle his family but not the NYPD, not for Munch and Finn's sly digs or sideways looks from the uniforms or to be the newest gossip around the DA's office.
And not for it all to come out over a mafia hit. He wouldn't have a job when this was done.
Taylor was still standing in the doorway, watching him, looking smug. "I have to admit, you're a twist I didn't see coming."
That was mutual. Weeks of idle thoughts of careful conversations in the distant future with Liv and Cragen were washed away under rising panic. Outed, just like that. By a Federal Agent investigating Toby on suspicion of murder. Panic was clawing at Elliot's mind, as he thought of all the ways he'd use that information in Taylor's place. A cop dating a man, a felon, maybe a murderer. So much for his shell; Elliot had cracked before he'd even sat down. Elliot was watching the fuse burn down on a disaster.
He forced himself to focus, remember the rules of interrogation. Taylor had the power as long as Elliot seemed afraid of what they both knew. But still, he almost choked as he asked, "You have a problem with two men fucking each other?"
"I guess that depends a lot on the situation. Your situation is interesting."
Screw playing games. It was time for fight mode. "You've got thirty seconds to convince me you have business here or I'm going to throw you out on your ass and contact my union rep."
Taylor slid a hand into his trouser pocket. He knew he had all the cards right now. "Beecher never mentioned me? I was the lead agent on his children's kidnap."
"Really?" They'd never talked about the police involved. This had to be about Hank. Toby might go back to prison.
"How's Holly doing?" Taylor was digging, trying to figure out how well Elliot knew him.
"Fine, so far as I know. Do I need to tell Beecher to get a lawyer?" 'Beecher' he'd called him, like they were just fuck-buddies.
Taylor finally came in and sat, dropping a file on the table. "Put your hackles down, Detective. I've never chased Beecher for anything more than obstruction of justice. I just want him to help me close a file on a fellow prisoner he's protected."
Elliot wasn't buying it. Not after the dance they'd done so far. He wished he could talk to Toby, get some idea what the hell this guy was after. He should have called him.
Taylor watched him quietly for a few minutes, unaffected by Elliot's glare. "Tell me: what do you know about Christopher Keller?"
The mysterious Chris. "I've heard of him."
"Him and Beecher were lovers in Oz."
"I've also heard he's dead."
"Have you heard we looked at him for the kidnap?"
Elliot hid his surprise, this time. "I heard you caught the guy who did it, and hosed the case." If this was about Hank, Elliot needed to know.
Genuine guilt flickered through Taylor's eyes. "Sometimes a case goes down. You must know that as well as anyone." He shook his head. "We had Hank Schillinger dead to rights shoving Holly out of the van, and some idiot in forensics screwed the paperwork."
Elliot did know how it went, but he was running short on charity right now. "Can we circle back to the point? I've got investigations underway."
"Certainly, Detective."
Taylor rifled through his file and tossed a photo across the desk. Elliot picked it up. It was a crime scene, a body lying in the woods. Caucasian male, naked, face down but maybe early twenties from the build. Bruises over his body from a severe beating. On his inner thighs - probably sodomised. On his throat - strangulation. "Bryce Tibbets, raped and killed May '98."
Another photo fell in front of him. A similar scene, strong correlation on the injuries; Elliot would have banked it was the same perp. "Mark Carachi, raped and killed March '98." And another, this time the body too decayed to read the evidence from a photo, but Elliot grasped the pattern. "Byam Lewis, raped and killed January '98." The guy who did this was aggressive, cold and methodical, and at first pass Elliot would class him as some kind of poster child for sociopathy.
Elliot was scanning the photos for clues, until the other chair creaked and he put all the pieces together.
"You think Christopher Keller did this." The guy Toby still longed for.
"I know he did."
"And you think Toby knew? You think Toby would protect a rapist?" After what happened to him? There was no fucking way. Elliot could buy Toby finding comfort with a guy who committed armed robbery, but not someone who did this. This was brutal.
"He knew." Taylor tapped the first photo. "I had Keller on death row for this one, but Beecher got it overturned. One of those technicalities, just like Hank Schillinger."
There was no way.
More photos floated across the table, from the same three scenes, from the autopsies. Rope burns on the men's wrists. Blood from rectal tearing. You could see the profile of the second man's face, eyes puffy from tears. Whoever did this had taken his time. Enjoyed the power.
Elliot dragged his eyes up. "Keller's dead."
"I still have two more sets of parents who want confirmation of who did this to their boys. You must understand that." Elliot did. "Besides - how many years have you been doing sex crimes, Detective? You want to tell me which of these you think was Keller's first rape and murder?"
None of them. Three scenes, this similar. These weren't the first.
If Toby got the conviction overturned, it was because Chris was innocent. Toby couldn't have believed Chris committed these murders. Elliot swallowed his urge to start defending Toby out loud. He wasn't going to give this guy anything until Toby had a chance to explain. There was an explanation for this.
Taylor stood and gathered up the photos, all but the first three, stuffing the rest back in his folder. "You can keep those. And one more." A mug shot was laid down, and Elliot stopped breathing. "That's Christopher Keller."
Three men, raped, tortured and murdered, but Elliot couldn't take his eyes off the mug shot. It wasn't just a likeness. It could have been him. These three men died in terror, staring at Elliot's face.
There could be ten different reasons why Toby didn't know or didn't believe this was Chris Keller's work. None of them explained the likeness. No wonder Toby had never wanted to talk about Chris. He was living out some twisted substitute fantasy.
Chris Keller stared out from his mug shot.
Elliot had fallen in love with him. He loved Toby. And this whole time Toby had just been fucking his dead serial killer boyfriend.
"Elliot?" Liv's gentle voice.
Elliot snatched up the mug shot and slid it into his breast pocket, but she was standing beside him before he could do anything about the crime scene photos.
He heard her soft breath out, her disgust at the brutality, but she picked up the photo of Bryce Tibbets, the murder that had put Toby's lover on death row. The case Toby overturned. "Is the FBI giving us a case?"
"No." Elliot shuffled the photos together, wished Taylor had left him a folder to hide them in.
The case Toby overturned? Toby was disbarred. He was in real estate. That didn't make sense.
"Elliot?"
Chris died before Toby even got out, Elliot was sure. He died long before Elliot met Toby. This was bullshit. Taylor was feeding Elliot a line of shit.
That didn't explain the mug shot.
Elliot was numb. All over: his feet and his hands, in his chest. None of this made sense. Toby had lied to him. How many lies?
Elliot scooped up the pictures and headed for the door, snatched up an empty file folder as he passed his desk. He heard Cragen calling his name as he headed through the pen, but he kept going. There was nothing he'd say that would help his case if he stayed. He had to get out of here.
He had his key in the door of the car when someone grabbed him, he swung around with his fist raised to find Olivia with her hands up.
"Okay, Elliot, now I'm definitely not going to let you drive."
Elliot shook, let out a breath, dropped his fist. "Leave me the fuck alone, Liv."
She snatched the keys from the door. "You tell me where we're going, I'll drive."
Elliot slammed his hand against the car door. He had to get out of here.
"Anywhere you want. Do you want to go home? Do you want to go to Toby's?"
Elliot huffed. Yeah, he wanted Toby to tell him everything was all right, not to stress about whatever was bothering him.
Toby had been lying to him from the start.
"Has something happened to Toby? Elliot, will you damn-well talk to me?"
He couldn't drive. He didn't even know which way was up. "I want to go to Toby's."
"Okay." He could hear the relief in her voice. "Get in. I'll take you there."
He marched around the car and dropped into the passenger seat, the file of photos bending in his grip.
Olivia swung the car out, holding her tongue for the moment.
The traffic through Manhattan was creeping. Elliot's mind cycled around and around. What was he going to say when he got there? Where the hell did it start?
"Is this about Toby? Is he in trouble?"
Only with Elliot. Only for being a lying bastard, who'd played Elliot for a fool. This whole situation was insane. Elliot put his hand over his breast pocket, felt the heavy card of the mug shot, still there. He wanted to take it out and see if he was crazy, if maybe he'd just overreacted to a vague likeness, but he couldn't let Olivia see.
"You sure you don't want to talk, Elliot?"
She prodded him all the way to Toby's apartment, and double-parked across the street. Elliot stared up at the window. The drive had brought a sense of cold calm. There had to be some kind of explanation. It had to be some kind of massive misunderstanding. Maybe Taylor was a nut job and the mugshot was a photoshop deal. That was as sane as any other theory going.
Or how damaged had Toby been? Elliot's stomach clenched. In the wake of Vern's sadism, maybe he'd been ripe for picking by the next psychopath, pragged to a man who made him believe it was love? It wasn't like they'd never seen that before, victims who loved their captors. If Toby was that fucked up, could Elliot deal with it?
"I'm fine." He climbed out of the car, realised he'd almost left the photos behind and snatched up the file, managed to throw Olivia a thank you. He barely felt the steps under his feet as he made his way up the stairs.
Toby slid the health history form aside, signed the internet user agreement, and picked up the next sheet. 'Student personality evaluation.' They wanted to know about Holly's temperament, hobbies, issues. Putting his daughter into middle school took more paperwork than getting parole.
The sound of a key in the door caught his attention, and he smiled when it swung open. "Elliot! I didn't expect you tonight." He liked the surprise. He checked the clock as he crossed to greet him. "And you're early. You get time off for good behaviour?"
There was a strange light in Elliot's eyes. He threw out a "Hi," as he walked in, looking around instead of at Toby, took a step towards the dining table and then he caught Toby's arm and dragged him to the couch, sat beside him.
"Is something wrong?"
A couple of aborted attempts to speak, ratcheting up Toby's worry until he asked, "Tell me about Chris."
Toby definitely didn't want to do that. "I've told you enough about him."
"You've hardly told me anything. I found out about the armed robbery from Holly."
"And I told you what happened. What does it matter? That was a whole other life."
Elliot wasn't letting go, and it made Toby nervous. What the hell brought this on? Elliot licked his lip, thinking. "He came after Vern, right?"
After Vern? There was no 'after Vern', only different battles in their long, fucked-up war. "Chris showed up about six months after I got out of Vern's pod."
"Did you love him?"
Toby had told him he did, more than once. "Why are you asking?"
Elliot took his hand. "I need to know if he hurt you, like Vern did. If you were his..."
Toby snatched back his hand. "His bitch?"
"I wasn't going to say-"
"But that's what you were going to mean. You want to know if Vern fucked me up so much I pragged myself to some other piece of shit."
Elliot just looked at him, waiting for an answer.
"No!" Toby forced his voice down. "Yes, Elliot, I loved him. Is that what you want to hear? What the fuck does it matter?"
"And did you ever care about me? Or have you been fucking him this whole time?" Elliot pulled a photo out of his shirt pocket and Toby knew what it was before that smirking face fell to the coffee table. He reached for it, unthinking, and then realised what this meant. A shudder went through Toby like the slam of a prison gate.
He picked up the photo. "I don't have any photos of him."
"You don't need them, do you? You have me."
Chris in the photo looked strange after all these months of staring at Elliot's face, blending memories. He looked wrong, jarring. Not like Elliot at all. Like a brother, maybe, not the clone Toby had imagined back in November.
It hit Toby: he'd just lost Elliot. This relationship was over. He'd been prepared for it. Since the start, he'd known there was an expiry date, but at some point he'd bought in. Let himself believe. "Please let me explain."
"Explain?" Elliot hissed. He stood and shoved a folder into Toby's hands. "How about you explain these?"
Toby didn't open it. If Elliot had his hands on Chris's mugshot, then Toby knew exactly what was inside here. He knew who it came from. This whole thing with Elliot was done. "The FBI never proved it was Chris."
"But you know he did them."
Toby had lied to Katherine and he'd lied to Taylor but now he was mute.
Elliot's hands were fists, the muscles in his arms hard with tension. Danger clung to him like a mist. Elliot was struggling not to grab Toby and hurt him, and oh the irony, that he'd never seemed so much like Chris as he did right now. Quietly, sharp as a knife, Elliot asked, "Do you get what I do, Toby?"
"I know. You catch rapists and killers."
He reached down to flip open the folder, exposing crime scene photos Toby hadn't seen in years. "I look the parents of children like this," he pointed to Bryce Tibbets, "and this," to Mark Carachi, "and this," to Byam Lewis, "in the eye, and I tell them I'm going to find the sick fuck who did it, and bring them some measure of peace."
Staring at the photos was easier than meeting Elliot's eyes. Toby knew Chris did these. It was one of the million shames he shied away from every day. Ronnie Barlog could have brought those parents that measure of peace, but Toby handed him to Chris, might as well have snapped his neck with his own hands. Elliot would never imagine that about Toby. Or never had before today. Toby wondered what would happen if right now he looked Elliot in the eye and told him what he did to Metzger. An officer of the law. First-degree murder: malice aforethought, bare hands, the darkest pleasure of his life. What would Elliot say if Toby told him he could still get hard at the memory of it?
What would Elliot say if Toby told him he traded Adam Guenzel to his own rapist just so he could see Chris on death row?
He'd walk away in disgust. Which was exactly what he was going to do tonight anyway. Toby looked up, started tallying the details: the ugly twist of Elliot's mouth, the broad shoulders, the throbbing energy as he paced the room. Toby was never going to see him again.
"Did you withhold information? Protect him?" He snatched up the photo of Tibbets, naked and bruised and dead. "Did you get down on your knees for the man who did this?"
"Yes. More times than I can count."
The photo was tossed back in Toby's lap and Elliot grabbed the mugshot as he moved away, putting space between them but his voice was still low, dangerous. "Knowing he raped those boys, you got down on your knees and had sex with him. Consensual sex."
Toby jumped to his feet and followed him, just a little threat to back him up, a little peek at Prisoner #97B412. "We did everything." Right in Elliot's face, his wiry body up against all Elliot's bulk. "I sucked his cock. We fucked each other up the ass and kissed and bled and held each other through the nightmares-"
"A real Harlequin romance."
"Elliot, I'm a killer and a terrible father and a disappointment of a son. You think you can make me feel bad about loving someone?"
"Loving someone?" Elliot pushed him back, snarling. "A serial killer. A serial rapist. What a massive disappointment I must be."
Toby held his ground. He'd had to swing a shiv to hurt Chris, had to fuck strangers. With Elliot it only took words, and Toby was a fucking black belt in words. "You certainly don't fuck like Chris, but you were good enough in a pinch."
Elliot roared and shoved Toby up against the wall, and if felt so fucking good, like Toby was alive. Like Chris was alive.
"You remind me of him right now."
Toby almost laughed when Elliot's elbow lifted, until he heard a shriek. Too late to stop the crash across his face, the crack and flash of his head bouncing off the wall, a beat of confusion before the pain tore through.
Holly's small body hit him like another blow, locking around his waist as she wailed in fear. Toby grabbed her close and pulled her face to his neck to muffle her. "It's okay, honey, it's okay." It hurt to talk. His ears were ringing. Seconds passed before he thought to open his eyes.
Elliot was staring at them in disbelief, cradling his hand. Elliot had punched him.
What had Toby done? He reached a hand out. "Elliot, I'm sorry, please don't do anything stupid."
Elliot's gaze drifted down to Holly, and Toby's followed. Red was staining the shoulder of her yellow blouse. What had he done?
The door slammed. Elliot was gone.
Toby slid down the wall. It had been a long time since he'd taken a punch. And now he was sitting on the floor, face screaming, Holly crying. "It's okay Holly. It's okay." It wasn't okay. The look on Elliot's face...
Why had Toby done that? Because he wanted it. He'd wanted Elliot to lose control. And he'd won.
"Shhhhh. He's gone."
Holly tightened her grip, sobs choking down to hiccups and gasps.
Toby switched his grip on her and fumbled his phone out of his pocket and dug through his address book.
"Benson."
"Detec-" Christ, his face hurt. He was slurring. "Detective Benson, this is Tobias Beecher."
"Toby. Hi. Is something wrong?"
Everything. "It's Elliot. He's upset, and I'm worried he might do something." Toby should have taken his car keys; he shouldn't be driving in that state.
He could almost feel her stand up. "What happened?"
"Please find him and keep an eye on him tonight."
Toby hung up and thumbed his phone off before she could interrogate him. He tipped his head back and hissed as his lump hit the wall. If Elliot forgave him for everything else tonight, he was never going to forgive him for that call.
Who was he kidding? Elliot was never going to forgive him. Elliot was never going to forgive himself.
In the back of his mind, Toby could see Chris's self-satisfied smirk. 'You see, Toby? You think a fucking cop could ever love you like I did?'
Holly's hands pulled at his shirt, gently touched his face. Her face was splotchy and swollen from tears, but worse than that she looked terrified. "Dad, why did he do that?"
A sob fought its way up and he swallowed it down. "I did a terrible thing, Holly."
"That doesn't make it okay to hit you. Nobody should hit you."
"That's right." Toby pulled her close as he ran his tongue around his mouth. A couple of teeth loose, his whole jaw aching, lip split. Elliot packed one hell of a punch.
"You should go to the hospital."
"No, honey, I just need a hug. Ice and a hug."
She slid out of his arms and hurried to the kitchen. Toby struggled to his feet and was headed for the couch when he saw the photos, bloody corpses scattered over the floor, Chris's mug shot in the middle. He rushed to pick them up, but Holly was back as he picked up the last. "What's that?"
"Never mind." He slid them back in the folder, now covered in bloody fingerprints, and left them on the dining table as he collapsed on the couch with a wince.
Holly handed over a tea towel bulging with ice and climbed beside him, looking fearfully at the damage before he pressed the ice to his jaw. He grunted as the ache from the cold settled over the rest of it.
Holly rubbed a hand across her red eyes, and then her snotty nose.
Toby reached for the tissues, passed her the box. "Really Holly, I'm okay. I'm sorry we scared you."
She blew her nose. "You didn't scare me." Her breath hitched, voice trembling again. "He scared me. He hit you."
"Are you going to believe me if I tell you he's more upset about that than I am?" Probably more upset than Holly. Toby prayed Olivia could find him.
"Don't say that." She looked at the door, and then jumped up and ran over to throw the locks and put the hook on, scurried back to settle beside him with her knees drawn up, peering around the ice pack to see his face. "What was the terrible thing you did?"
Where to start? "I lied. I lied about a lot of things." And when he should have been apologising, he poured gasoline on what was left of Elliot's trust and lit a match.
"Why?"
This time the sob made it all the way up. "Because I wanted him to like me."
She matched his sob and curled up against him. "He did like you."
"Not anymore." He squeezed her, buried his nose in her hair to breathe her in, caught the sour edge of urine. She'd peed her pants. Toby was a piece of shit.
Holly held on tight. "It doesn't matter anymore. He hit you."
end chapter 29
Feedback provides all the nutrients a growing squid needs. Concrit thoroughly welcome, warm fuzzies treasured. Here or at drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
The complete works of Dr Squidlove can be found at http://members.iinet.net.au/~tentacles/squidfic.html
S.
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no subject
Date: 2014-12-20 10:36 am (UTC)sobs..
He hit Toby-oh no. In front of Holly too.. That was terrible and my heart is broken.
Chris did worse of course..But Ell is not Chris.
Oh I knew Taylor would be bad news..and all he did was tell a truth that needed to come out so they can really get close.
If they can reconcile after this. I want them to.
Toby forgave Chris much, much worse..oh dear that relationship was sick, but still so compelling.
Toby really has a black belt in self-sabotage. Poor messed-up baby.
Oh my feels..
Damn great chapter doc s, I knew you'd bring the drama and boy did you.
Can't wait for the next one.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-22 11:28 am (UTC)Yayyyyy!!!
Your distress is such sweet, sweet pleasure to me.
Yep, I think we're safe from Elliot dealing out any Chris-style payback. Forgiveness, however, might be harder to win...
Poor Taylor's just doing his job, digging for justice, but nobody likes him. Poor Taylor.
There really is no situation so terrible that Toby can't make it worse. He's talented like that.
Thanks, maze!
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-22 03:21 pm (UTC)Wrote one more chapter on my own Toby/Elliot story in order to heal. Well, it's not entirely angst-free..
Elliot comes out to a guy at work..I thought Huang would do nicely, and there's talk of Chris' past in my verse.
My Huang is not a Mukada doppelganger, well maybe he's a distant cousin.
Man those actors taking widely different roles in the SVU and the Oz-verse can both be helpful and troublesome.
Yes, I know it's meant to be the same verse, but really..
no subject
Date: 2014-12-23 07:08 am (UTC)Heh. Writing is the best way to deal with story dissatisfaction. :-) Yours is a nice piece, but I haven't had a chance to comment yet.
I just finished re-watching the SVU episode with Ronnie and Toby's army rapist cellmate. So many of these crossovers would be fun to drag in.
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-23 07:23 am (UTC)Thanks for reading mine.
Ohh Ronnie was in SVU? Cool. I only saw him on CSI. He's soo very pretty.
I also love when dr Skoda tells Elliot to trust him, that's hilarious if you've seen Oz.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-23 07:33 am (UTC)In 7.05, Ronnie's a gay activist trying to fight the surge of HIV from unprotected meth-sex. Yet another character that could be easily blended/connected to his Oz doppelganger.
He's very pretty.
JK Simmons always cracks me up. The Skoda/Schillinger blend just makes it better.
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-23 07:57 am (UTC)Yep, Skoda being so nice makes it so much better. Simmons is great whatever he does.
Vern is so evil, but Simmons dry delivery of some lines makes me laugh, and he's a great villain.
Whereas Chris is..our serial killer, yeah.
Oz the place where you leave your morality at the door.
Chris unlike, say Dexter, has no excuse for what he does.
Dexter just kills evil people, yeah that's twisted morality too.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-20 11:23 am (UTC)There's so much more I want to say about this chapter, but I can't even form words about my thoughts because I'm in such a state of shock. Please stand by while I collect my jaw from the floor and put my mind back into first gear.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-22 11:33 am (UTC)Yeah!!
I broke sahem!
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-23 03:34 am (UTC)I don't stay broken for long. ;)
no subject
Date: 2014-12-20 04:58 pm (UTC)Have I told you how I adore Holly? I'm crying right now.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-22 11:37 am (UTC)Uh, sorry about that.
It's kind of a rule of Toby's life. Nothing bad happens when something completely shockingly awful can happen instead.
On the other hand, she's a tough kid. If Toby had had her by his side in prison, she probably would have stuck a shiv in Vern in season one.
S.
oh!
Date: 2014-12-20 06:30 pm (UTC)Re: oh!
Date: 2014-12-22 11:39 am (UTC)Thank you!
Elliot wants you to know that no way, no how, will he ever forgive Toby for this. He thinks you're crazy to think it.
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-20 09:36 pm (UTC)Oh my goodness, I feel SO bad, for EVERYBODY.
I even feel bad for Agent Taylor! The fact that he's still haunted by Hank Schillinger getting away with Gary's murder makes me like him, and I never thought that could happen. And, unfortunately, he's justified in feeling the way he does about Chris, as much as I like to pretend otherwise.
Man, I want to both smack and cuddle both Toby and Elliot right now. And simply cuddle Holly, obviously. I did not see her involvement in the big confrontation coming. What an impact!
I had naively been holding out hope that when Elliot found out about the physical resemblance to Chris it wasn't going to be any big deal, as Toby seemed to be at a point where he clearly (to me) was in love with Elliot as Elliott, and not a Chris substitution. But I guess the serial rapist/murderer thing was always going to be the complication that was harder to justify and explain, especially when Toby still has problems explaining it to himself.
I don't think (well, I know) I haven't told you enough times how wonderful this story and your writing is. I love how you use so many different elements (humor, angst, sex, drama, romance, kid!stuff) to provoke so many emotions, sometimes all within the the same chapter!
This has been such a fantastic roller coaster to ride, and I hope the ride starts going back up soon!
no subject
Date: 2014-12-22 11:58 am (UTC)Yeah!
That's just how I want it. Why make one character miserable, when you can ruin all of their lives?
I know, right? We all think Taylor's a bastard, but he pretty much just does his job. He cuts some corners, sure, but he gets a higher score on ethics than Stabler. We're just protective because Chris is *our* serial killer.
Poor Holly. It's a tough gig when you only exist so writers can rip the heart out of the protagonist.
Elliot finding out about being a twin replacement could have been a medium-sized speed bump. Chris's history, however... Elliot has a very low tolerance for people who protect rapists. And then there are Elliot's other issues. We'll get to those...
Thanks so much, vanillalime! I'm so glad it's all coming together.
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-20 11:29 pm (UTC)She gave Toby some good advice on domestic violence too. That is one smart cookie.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-22 03:27 pm (UTC)Thanks, helvetica!
Yeah, I think the adults in the room probably out to be spending a little more time with their counsellors.
Holly's pretty much had it up to here with people being mean to her dad. Not sure what she'd do with the knowledge that her dad is occasionally prone to a wee bit of violence.
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-21 12:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-22 03:39 pm (UTC)Thank you!
And this is pretty much the cornerstone of the story from its inception, for me. I love love love the Beecher/Stabler fic that's out there, and I really like seeing Elliot deal with Toby being an ex-con, but Chris is always white-washed. (Which is totally fine; no story's going to deal with everything.) I wanted to write a story that didn't hold back on who Chris was, and forced Elliot to deal with it.
It's one of the things I love seeing in a crossover: when the philosophical/ethical outlooks of the shows collide.
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-23 01:04 am (UTC)However, I've always thought the serial killer plot twist was a backlash against the BK storyline being too soap opera-ish or too gay. It's acceptable if they rape or have sex with other men because they were violent manly men or because there were no women available. But if they declare affection or love for each other that diminish the street cred of the show. My 2 cents.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-23 07:17 am (UTC)Oh yeah, I'm so happy there are so many variations. Chris with a mildly criminal past now living with Toby and helping to raise his children? Yes please!
Really? I didn't see it that way at all. As I saw it, Toby and Elliot's relationship had to be ruined because it's Oz, and nothing good survives. A happy romance of any kind would diminish the street cred of the show. That's why Murphy and McManus knew to hide their love affair from the show writers. :-)
That Toby stood by Chris, knowing he was a serial killer, just made their love story bigger, more epic. Of course, Elliot wouldn't agree.
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-23 08:11 am (UTC)Eh...any street cred they had went out with the wacky aging pill episode.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-24 01:10 pm (UTC)The aging pill... do you think everyone in the writers' room was drunk at the time? The whole storyline was utterly stupid in so many ways, but what made it unforgivable was how everyone un-aged when they stopped taking it.
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-24 01:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-25 02:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-25 11:11 am (UTC)I'm surprised Fontana didn't turn it into an mpreg story.
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-21 08:19 am (UTC)-Exasperated
no subject
Date: 2014-12-22 03:44 pm (UTC)Thanks, Exasperated!
Yeah, they're unlikely to go for a pizza this week. Sorry about that.
Toby would like to get back together, but he's not particularly hopeful right now. Elliot's pretty firmly in the 'no' column. But I've got a few more chapters to fill, so we'll see what I can do. :-)
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-21 10:39 pm (UTC)And just when Toby had finally accepted Eliot for himself too.
And Poor Holly! That had to be horrifying to watch. And I love her comment about the hit. Very wise indeed.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-22 03:49 pm (UTC)Yes, it would have been a disappointing story if it went 'And Elliot never found out. The end.'
Holly's well and truly over people being mean to her dad. And also perhaps has a rosier vision of her dad than he deserves, but it's nice that there's someone in his corner.
Thanks mulder!
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-22 07:30 pm (UTC)Love the idea of us seeing Chris in black and white, as he really was, being forced to confront the idea that dear old Toby loved a psychopathic serial killer and seeing this through the eyes of El who is (relatively) sane. Your dropping Oz into the 'real' world and seeing how it fares is really interesting.
On tenterhooks now. Thank God this is a lovely long fic/novel
Nothing in Particular
no subject
Date: 2014-12-23 07:29 am (UTC)Ahhhhh, your Obi-Wan-esque wail is so beautiful to me. :-D
There are still some chapters to go. I'm sure something happens in them. I'm pretty sure I can promise you some staggering. Definitely some bruises.
Thanks! It's probably the thing that most impressed me about Oz: that Fontana's characters could do such terrible things, and have my sympathy. I'm hard-core, zero tolerance for domestic abuse, but there I was, desperately wishing every time for Toby and Chris to get back together. Elliot's the rational part in the back of my brain, that was yelling, 'Not okay! Not okay!'
Thanks, NiP!
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-25 04:09 pm (UTC)Poor Elliot, to have his worldview punched in the gut like that, as though falling in love with Toby was not already enough.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-26 10:51 am (UTC)Yes, that's the fascination of the relationship for me, too. Sure, while I was watching I was always rooting for them to make up and be adorable together, but part of me was always horrified by it.
Elliot would be utterly immune to Chris's charms, and would not be rooting for them to be adorable at all. Not as a cop, not as the scorned lover.
S.