Your Partner | Elliot Stabler Oneshots

House Painter Trauma

↬ Date: 12.23.2022.
↬ Prompt: N/A.
↬ Trigger [Warning]: Major topic: rape (lightly mentioned, no scene); cursing
↬ Words: 2837.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Walking into a building, you looked around, trying to find someone, your eyes wide and blurry. An older man walked up to you, noting your disheveled appearance and smell of... In no way was he trying to defend you, but you smelled like dog shit. Looking at your jacket, he found the source of it.

"Can I help you?" He asked, making you look at him, your eyes wider than he's ever seen, "Can I take your jacket."

"I need to talk to Elliot," You said. The man looked around but didn't see Elliot, but the smell got worse the closer he got to you. You could smell it too but you didn't think it was you. The man let his hand hover over your shoulder, images flashing in your eyes, but it didn't trigger anything. You let him take your jacket. "I need Elliot."

"He isn't here right now; is there anything I can do to help?" The man asked, giving the jacket to some other guy who put it in an evidence bag, looking disgusted, but you shook your head. You needed Elliot.

"I need Elliot." The man didn't choose to argue with you but instead led you back to an interrogation room. You sat at the table, staring at it with wide eyes, shock. You didn't understand why you were shock. You've been through worse.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here?" You looked up, and it took a second for you to realize who it was, but then you busted out in harsh sobs, your hand over your mouth but your eyes will wide in shock. Elliot looked concerned, closing the door quickly to get to you faster. "Hey, hey; what's wrong? What happened?"

"I was raped," You whispered, your eyes wide, shocked still. Elliot was squatted next to you, staring at you in confused and concern.

"Hey, I'm Detective Olivia Benson, and this is Detective John Munch. What's your name?" Olivia asked, sitting in front of you in the same room as before. You were staring at the table, eyes wide and distanced. Olivia looked up at the man before who helped you, Munch, but he shrugged. You looked no different here than when you first appeared in the office. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I was walking home from work, S and M's House Painting, when Mark Walton, my ex, walked up to me. I barely knowledged him, but he smiled and said hi. I kept walking, he hurt me in ways I won't get back so I don't care a lick about him," You begin explaining, "I was walking past Al's Hand Me Down- a book store on Wallstreet- and the Candy Dime store, when I was snatched into the allyway. It looks narrow but it felt huge. I didn't see who snatched me but I knew it was Mark."

"How did you know that?" Munch asked as he stopped writing.

"I felt his hands on me enough times to know; he has these calsus' along the upper part of his palm. I know how he smells, how he talks- I knew it was him. He held me against the corner, his hand on the back of my neck." You turned around and showed them the large bruise there. Turning back, your eyes found the dent in the table you've been staring at. "He just held me there, I didn't fight... I should have. I could have gotten away before the second man came."

"Second man?" Olivia asked.

"Three hands, one on my neck and two on my hips, four feet- you can only guess, unless it's a mutan coming for me," You joked humorlessly, "I felt hands on my hips, so I adjusted my head a little. Mark didn't even see or feel I did that, too entraced with my ass, I assume. I saw the hands, dark skin. I knew it was one of his friends- he thinks he's the coolest because he's only friend's with black men. The second man's hand were soft and smooth; he had a, um, tan lines of rings on his fingers, and a scar on his left ring finger that was shaped like a, um, fuck- um, a square! A square, like a box... He had on red running shoes, blue jeans with holes, and a black jacket."