Title: Hello, Goodbye
Fandom: Law & Order: SVU
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Jack (and his family) have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.
Summary: A shadow from Olivia's past shows up on her doorstep and offers the opportunity for her to take a very different direction in her life. This story exists outside of the universe that my other stories are happening in.
Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. Most of the chapters will ultimately take place outside of the work environment, so there aren't going to be too many references to cases from the show. But this story would generally be starting in about Season 13/14 of the show. Please let me know what you think and if you distribute elsewhere.
"Liv," Amaro called at her, as she walked passed him in the hall on her way in.
She was arriving late after having spent the better part of the night at a crime scene and then collecting the rape kit at the hospital and taking it over for processing. Cragen had given her permission to go home and catch a couple hours of sleep before coming in for her regular shift. Normally, she would've ignored the offer and just gone straight into the station – catching a couple winks in the cribs, if she decided she really needed to. But she was still battling this flu that didn't seem to want to let go and she'd been feeling like she was really dragging her ass around. So the offer of sleeping in her own bed rather than a bunk space that reeked of men, and body odour and dirty laundry that had been on those beds God knows how long, that seemed much more appealing.
She'd actually ended up crashing in her apartment for longer than she'd meant to, though, more like four hours. She probably would've slept longer, if the captain hadn't called her cell to make sure she was alright when she still hadn't reappeared at the station. She'd felt kind of disgusted with herself that sleeping so long and had staggered awake and managed to get showered and changed again – after having slept in what she'd been wearing out on the case – before heading in. Though, she hadn't been disgusted enough that she opted out of her usual coffee stop. Even though she'd been working at getting it into her system, she still felt pretty close to the walking dead.
"Yeah, I'm late. Sorry," she mumbled at him and kept walking.
"Ah, no," Amaro called again, and she glanced over her shoulder a bit at him. "Some kid has been hanging around the squad, waiting for you."
She made a funny face. Some kid? She didn't know that was all about – especially why one of the guys wouldn't have been able to take a statement and start a case file, if necessary.
But when she got to her desk, there certainly wasn't a kid around. She almost wondered if her cold-clogged head had heard Amaro wrong or if they guys were just fooling with her while she was still in her decongestant fog. She put her coffee on her desk and started to slip off her coat, while glancing around the squad, just to make sure she wasn't missing something. John saw her looking, though, and pointed out the opposite doors.
"He went that way," he said. "Guess he got tired of waiting for you to grace us with your presence."
She just shook her head at him and wandered out to the opposite hallway and elevator bay. She was kind of curious about who would be in there looking for her, that the guys seemed so passive about.
There was a university-aged kid – or, she supposed, rather a young man – standing near the elevators, waiting for one to come. He was dressed kind of shambly. All his clothes looked a little baggy on him and well worn. She saw some holes in the ratty hoodie he had on and his jeans were nearly hanging off of him, they were sagging so much in the back.
"Hey," she called at him. "I'm Detective Benson. Were you looking for me?"
The kid turned his face towards her. He kind of looked like he was using. His face seemed to have almost a waxy quality to it and he had dark circles under his eyes. But there was something familiar about him.
She started running her 14 years worth of cases with Special Victims through her head, hoping to place him. She figured he must be a family member or loved one of a victim, maybe a boyfriend. Or maybe even a victim, himself, all-grown up now. But she just couldn't place him. She saw him examining her too. Running his eyes up and down her body before he concentrated on her face. It was almost like he was measuring her worth.
"Ah, no," he said, and pushed the button again. "There was a misunderstanding."
She squinted her eyes at him and took a step closer, still trying to figure out who he was and why he was looking for her.
"Did you need to file a statement?" She asked. "Report a rape?"
He glanced at her again, from where he'd set his eyes against the doors of the elevator and wrapped his arms protectively across his front. "Ah, no, like I said, there was a misunderstanding."
"What sort of misunderstanding?"
He shook his head and wrapped his arms across his chest even tighter. "I shouldn't have come here," he mumbled quietly.
She took another step closer to him, so she was basically standing next to him at the elevator. She looked at him even closer. He almost looked like he was jonesing. She could see a glean of sweat on his forehead and he was fidgeting.
"Are you alright? You don't look too well. Do you need some help?" She touched his elbow.
He looked at her again – this time meeting her eyes. His eyes didn't look like an addict's. They just looked tired and maybe hurt. She saw him move his eyes across her face again, taking her in.
"Can I get you some medical attention?" She offered. "Get you to the hospital?"
He shook his head. "No. I'm alright. I'm just … sick."
The elevator dinged and he pulled away from her hold on his elbow and got in. She thought for a moment about getting in with him and pursuing him to the lobby – to continue to try to determine who he was and why he was there. But she still wasn't feeling that well herself and she didn't feel like strong-arming someone that didn't want help. Hell, he'd been sitting in a squad room full of cops, if he wanted help, he could've gotten it – ten-times over.
So she sighed as the doors closed and trudged back to her desk. John looked up at her.
"So what'd Mr. McPukey-Puke want?" He asked.
"Pukey-Puke?" She raised her eyebrow at him, as she took her seat and flicked on her computer.
"The guy really did a number on the men's restroom – and thanks to the city we only have night janitors. So whatever he wanted better have been good."
Olivia just shrugged. "Don't know."
John looked at her. "He said it was personal business, not police business."
She shot her head back to John's gaze at that comment.
"You don't know him?" he said.
She shook her head. "When do I get spend time with 20-year-old men, John?"
He shrugged. "The state has no business in the bedrooms of the nation."
She rolled her eyes at him. "I have no idea who he is. I thought maybe he was a family member of a victim – or a victim from years ago? He didn't say who he was?"
"Jack," John offered.
"He looked like he was jonesing – and you just let him hang around here?"
"He looked like he had a bad case of the flu – kind of like you," he said. "I thought maybe it was part of your continued plot to infect the entire office."
She shot him a look. "How long was he here?"
"Nearly an hour likely."
"And you just let him hang out?"
"Well, he spent most of it christening our toilettes."
"And that didn't warrant medical intervention either?"
"I don't do vomit," he said.
She picked up her phone. "I'm going to see if front desk can tell me who the hell he was – assuming they made him check-in or maybe they just let him waltz around in here too."
John shrugged. "You know, we've really increased security around this place, in the past year. Those budget cuts haven't deterred that progress at all."