Double Jeopardy (SVU Fanfic)

17. Why So Quiet?

"I don't know what to say."

"She knows all the questions to ask. She went through the same thing."

"I don't want to talk about it!" I admit. "I just...I don't-"

"El, you have to," he interrupts. I feel his hand on my shoulder. I turn and jump in surprise. "Sorry," he says. "You can't hide it."

"That's what my shrink is for," I snap, though I'm quiet.

"So you just never went to your mom, for anything?"

"I didn't say that! I said-"

"That you can't go to your mom with this? Yet out of everyone, she'd be the only one who understands."

I look down and roll back on my feet. "Ashley would."

"Ashley isn't here right now."

"And if you wouldn't have been there that night, she would be!"

"But would you?"

"If Ashley got out of there, I would've too!"

"You can't know that for sure!" he exclaims.

"Well in my head, I would have. And now..." I shake my head, stepping back.

"Now...you need your mother."

"She got along fine without one for her entire life. I can survive a couple days."

"El, your mom is...complicated. Sh-"

"No kidding," I interrupt.

"She's very sensitive but never cares to show it. Unless it's you. You are right in her soft spot."

"Touching," I say sarcastically.

"Seriously. She needs you. Possibly more than you'd ever need her, but still. She went through so much before you happened."

"Like the undercover jail thing?"

"And lots of guns to her head, long nights spent alone, other things. She's had her fair share of human evils. And then she had you. And she was finally happy."

"Sounds like a chick flick," I comment, looking down.

"Ellie, y-."

"I don't have to talk to her. She can just read my notebook. She already has!"

"Because she's scared for you."

"I'm sick of people being scared of me. Or for me. Or whatever. I'm fine! I don't like pity. I don't like being watched. I don't like being looked at as a victim."

"Neither did your mom. Look, yelling at the woman gets you nowhere, believe me. Get a better hiding spot for the journal and forgive her. She just wants you to be okay."

"Well...she'll never believe me. So what am I supposed to do about that?"

"For now, make her know you don't hate her."

"Like that's easy."

"Just go over to her."

I roll my eyes. "I will. Eventually."

"Before today is up, alright?"

"Fine."

Later that night, after I eat, I find Mom sitting on the couch, looking at something in a manila folder. I sit down quietly, close but not too close to her, staring to the floor.

"What is it, El?" she asks, detached.

"I'm sorry," I say. I don't really know what to say but that sounds right.