Trials and Tribulations - [Bensler EO]

Part Sixteen - Epiphany

"Stabler, my office," Cragen called out through the bullpen. Elliot rose up from his chair, exchanging looks with Munch and Fin who tried to hide their smirks. Assholes. They always laughed, like a kid being pulled out of class to go to the principal's office. He wanted to splash his coffee on both of them. The coffee he barely had time to drink since he had just arrived. 

On his way towards Cragen's office, he stuck his middle finger up behind himself at his co-workers. 

He shut the door behind himself, crossing his arms over his chest. Cragen wordlessly motioned for him to take a seat. Just what he wanted at the ass-crack of dawn, to be reamed out by his boss. 

He hadn't fucked up a case, at least not consciously. He had walked away from Fin when they'd gone to check an alibi, but he was certain that it had been swept under the rug already. 

"How's Olivia?" Cragen asked simply.

Elliot's shoulders sunk. He wasn't an idiot. He knew Cragen had gone to see her. It was a mind game. He was so sick and fucking tired of the mind games. He gulped down the lump that seemed to be stuck in his throat. "You tell me." he bit back. 

Cragen let the retort wash away. He knew Elliot wasn't just angry at Olivia, he was angry at the world. It wasn't the first time, it probably wouldn't be the last either. Anyone who knew Elliot also knew that when he was angry, everyone had to know about it. It wasn't a trait he was exactly proud of. 

"She's been in the hospital for three days, Elliot. You've seen her once." 

"Yeah, well, I'm not exactly welcome there anymore." his voice became only more snide as he rolled his eyes. His arms went back to being crossed over his chest. He always liked to cover up the very place that the knives dug the deepest. 

'My boy plays it pretty close to the vest'

He didn't like it when people saw his hurt. It was in his job description to protect people, he didn't want to be protected by anyone other than himself. And he certainly never liked showing his wounds in case anyone ever wanted to poke at them. They were his bruises to dig at, nobody else's. 

"And why might that be?" Cragen asked, leaning back in the leather chair behind his desk. 

"Can we just cut the crap, please?" Elliot sighed, rolling his eyes tiredly. "I get it, you're pissed off that I argued with her. I was an ass for it, and I'm sorry. But right now, I know that we're gonna argue again if I even go near her, so I'm staying away. I just wanna give us some time."

Cragen stared at him for a moment, his brows raised with something other than surprise, he just couldn't put his finger on what it was. All-knowingness maybe? It was a look as old as time, like he had some answer that Elliot just couldn't find. "That's it?"

 "I guess?"

"Elliot, you don't have time." the Captain gave him a weak smile. If it even qualified as a smile. Maybe he was just laughing at how goddamn naïve the man in front of him was. "The clock started ticking a few weeks ago, it isn't going to stop ticking either. You're not giving anything time, you're wasting it."