Disclaimer: Law and Order: Special Victims Unit and it's characters do not belong to me. This is purely for fun and my own entertainment. Hopefully, to entertain others as well.
It was all too real.
Sweat drenched, bloodthirsty thoughts of murder going back and forth in his mind. He wanted to kill Ray Schenkel. He wanted to make sure he never walked on God's green earth ever again. To be honest, he always wanted to kill them. The Ray Schenkel's of the world; they all deserved to die.
He was judge, jury and executioner.
He had been inside their heads.
He knew what they thought about and how they went about thinking about it. He even knew how that thinking turned into ill-willed actions driven by an unbalanced hormonal sex drive. Those festering ideas of woman as object. Woman as plaything. Woman as not human at all.
That's what they believed in and Elliot Stabler knew all about it. Why? Because for a few days, he was one of them. He was Ray Schenkel.
No. No, he was not Ray Schenkel. He didn't have this desire to kidnap young girls and defile them in ways that could not be reversed. He saved that young girl the other night. By pretending to be one of them, he saved her. It was a good thing. He didn't cross the line because what he did saved that girl.
So there was no question of his sanity being unstable. He was fine. He did a good thing. What was really bothering him was the fact he had been ordered to have another staring contest with his good ol' buddy Dr. George Huang. How many times did they have to go over this?
Elliot had repeated that phrase several times during this session. Dr. Huang would never be convinced. He would just continue to smirk, like he always did.
So, George smiled and leaned back in his chair. He was clicking his pen, that sound proving to be quite deafening in the small, silent office space. The clicking stopped, George ready to speak. He leaned forward and asked in a casual tone, "How's your family?"
Elliot was slightly taken aback by the question, but he recovered quickly. "Fine."
"You're going through a rough patch," George stated confidently, the stiffness in his patient's shoulder providing all the proof he needed to back up his assessment. As if this were natural conversation, he commented, "There's an epidemic going around. Fatherlessness."
Elliot chuckled ruefully, but maintained an amused look, "Fatherlessness?"
"When children are separated from their fathers by means of divorce or dictatorial indifference," George elaborated, showing his ability to use big words. Elliot felt like sneering at the doctor for talking to him like he was an idiot. Huang started clicking his pen again as he added, "It's not only the children who suffer from this. The father's have a hard time as well."
"Well, I see my children often enough and they are fine," Elliot pushed, challenging the doctor to make another comment on this "epidemic".
George merely simpered again, "You can sit there and say you're fine. I'll accept that. However, your body language tells me your uptight. Your crossed arms show an aggressive stance because you're hearing things you don't want to hear. For a moment in your upstanding career as a police officer, you had to become one of the 'others'. You have a history of belligerence. You are currently living alone. Need I go on?"
"Your point?" Elliot seethed, clenching his fists until his knuckles were white.
For the first time in this entire session, Elliot watched as George let his smile fade. His next words spoken with great concern, weighty intelligence and sound judgement. The words were articulated sharply, sending daggers through Elliot's heart:
"As the family researcher, David Popenoe once said, 'Every society must be wary of the unattached male for he is universally the cause of numerous social ills'."
Elliot wanted to yell. He wanted to wrangle George's neck for even insinuating such an ill advised remark. But Elliot didn't move and he didn't yell. George then expressed his deep hope that Elliot would never become that extreme of a case. That if he worked on getting his anger under control, then things could work out for the better. His last suggestion: Find someone to confide in. He shouldn't go through this alone. Not anymore.
"Our time is up, Elliot. You can go."
The session was over and the troubled police officer rose from his chair. Be wary of the unattached male. . .
He entered the bullpen, spotted Olivia and approached her quickly. She was startled at first by his abruptness, but he forced a smile and tried to ask nonchalantly, "You wanna get a drink? I could use a drink."
"Are you okay, Elliot?" she asked cautiously, then out of habit added teasingly. "You didn't punch George, did you?"
Elliot pushed a laugh between his lips and denied delivering any punishing blows to Huang. "No, no. It's just. . .I could really use a drink."
Olivia was now very suspicious of the look in her partner's eyes. The way his shoulders sagged, losing that broad strength that they always showed. Discreetly, she asked, "Is there something you want to talk about?"
Elliot tightened his lips, then rubbed the back of his neck. After a few, agonizing seconds passed he admitted, "Yeah. I need to talk. Get some things off my mind."
They walked out together, but as Elliot stepped onto the elevator, George's words echoed in his mind.
Elliot Stabler was not Ray Schenkel. He never would be.
He would never pretend to be ever again.