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The Devil You Know	By : SisterWine Category: G through L > Law & Order Views: 3165 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Law & Order, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Devil You Know
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Alternate Scene
- 14-Alternate Ending 2
- 5
- 6
- 7
"Stabler. My office." Captain Cragen opened his office door and called out to the detective, who had just come in to work.

Elliot set his cup of coffee on his desk and draped his coat over the back of his chair before making his way to the captain's office, closing the door behind him, as he entered. He looked confused to find Karen Honnett, a well-established attourney from Caldwell & Jameson, leaning against the desk and Captain Cragen standing behind it. "Captain?"

Captain Cragen sighed, tiredly. With his hands in his pockets, he stood there and blinked at the detective. "Ms. Honnett and I have negotiated Erik Matthews' release into her custody, pending hearing. Also, I received a call from Matthews, informing me of why Ms. Honnett paid me a visit. Apparently, during your visit, last week, her client was put in a vulnerable position when you overstepped your bounds and arrested Matthews for conspiracy to commit murder, after being assaulted and raped by his own client. He also conveyed, to me, the feeling of vulnerability when in your presence."

"He called his lawyer in because I made him feel uncomfortable?" Elliot eyed the tall, older and slendre woman, to his left. "Captain, he has limited range of motion. I was merely trying to help him. As for his arrest, his clothing, his medication and his oxygen tubing, complete with both his and Martinelli's prints were on the victim."

Ms. Honnett shifted and pushed off of the desk and folded her arms, in front of her. "Erik has been an exemplary part of our firm. He understands the law, inside and out. There is no indication your victim changed his appearance to look like my client or donned Erik Matthews' clothing out of duress. My client and Mr. Martinelli were in a relationship that ended and possessions were confused and mixed up in the separation process. We can argue the little things down to a matter of your victim obliging himself with my client's possessions." Her voice was light with a hint of a Texas twang. Long, board-straight auburn hair had been loosely held behind her by a thin, black band. Her bangs hung low enough to cover her dark and managed eyebrows, accenting her hazel eyes. Crimson jacket over her business-casual black dress, spoke volumes that she knew what she was talking about and did very well at her job. In turning back to Captain Cragen, she added, "Erik is asking for Detective Stabler to refrain from approaching him, unless I or a third party, is present. Good day, gentlemen." Exiting the office, she flashed a smug smile over to Detective Benson, who had been waiting for her partner and his news of the case.

There had been a moment of silence between detective and captain before Cragen pulled out his chair and sat down. "Where are we with Martinelli?"

"Since John and Fin picked him up for rape and assaulting Matthews, he's sitting in Rikers, not talking. Cabot's been talking to his new lawyer but, he refuses to budge. The used condom that was found under the driver's seat of his own vehicle, places him with Aaron Jasper, in coitus, before the time of death. Warner also found trace of seat fibres consistent with Martinelli's backseat, embedded into the weaving of Matthews' suitjacket Jasper was found in. We can hold him for murder suspicion but if Matthews doesn't come forward with the assault and rape, any judge would throw the case out on a technicality." Elliot sighed and shifted as he caught the captain up.

Cragen thought for a moment. "So, Matthews is the key to get a conviction on the Jasper murder?"

Nodding, Elliot slipped his hands into his pockets. "I think he knows something and perhaps, Martinelli assaulted him to keep the secret quiet."

Cragen folded his hands and placed them on his desk. "How far did you get with Matthews' brother?"

Elliot shrugged and shook his head. "They parted ways 15 years ago, Captain. I think we'd have better luck with his father."

"How so?"

"Well, talking with him, the night Matthews was attacked, he stated Erik reached out to him, when he was diagnosed. I think seeing his son, in that condition, might be enough to convince Erik to testify against his client." Stepping forward, Elliot sighed in thought.

Cragen placed a hand over his mouth, in thought. He was silent for long while as he weighed the scenarios and possible outcomes. "Alright. Tread lightly. Matthews is shaky enough." He paused and looked up as Elliot turned to leave. "Elliot, Matthews only wanted you held back from approaching him but, not off the case. I'm guessing that's his way of wanting to know the truth, also. If handled right, he could put this whole case to rest."

Pausing and turning to look at his captain, Elliot exhaled and nodded.

Erik Matthews Residence
11:53 AM

Erik reclined on the sofa in the living room. He dozed, waiting for his medication to take effect. The pain in his hip throbbed but began to numb as the pain medication took hold. His breathing slowed and a dream began. His first day home and already he was reliving what had happened two weeks prior. A soft whimper escaped him.

The door opened and he was pulled inside by an intoxicated Jake.

"Jake, please, can I just rest for a minute?" Erik sounded tired. His voice had been hoarse from speaking all day. Placing his briefcase down, on the floor, beside the coffee table and then sitting down on the sofa, he closed his eyes a moment before the weight of his ex-lover shifted the cushion as Jake sat down beside him.

Jake's hands were all over him, tugging at his clothes, his lips kissed and sucked at Erik's neck as Erik struggled to break free. Fingers at the back of his head, pulling at his hair as he was being shoved back to lie down on the sofa. "No, please. I don't think we should do this." His stomach started to churn.

With a loud growl in Erik's right ear, Jake ripped at the counselour's shirt. "C'mon, Erik. Live a little." Trailing kisses from jawline to collarbone and then moving to slurp his way down Erik's chest, Jake busied himself with Erik's belt and pants fastenings. "You want this." He smirked as he looked up to the younger man's expression. Undoing his own pants and stroking himself, he slithered back up to kiss Erik's lips before being shoved off and onto the floor. "What the Hell's wrong with you?!"

"I said, no." Erik sat up and moved to cover himself.

Jake scoffed. "Why not? We used to fuck all the time, after you got home." He stood and moved away from the sofa, his back to Erik.

"That was before you called it quits and I got sick." His breathing was eratic as Erik tried to control himself. His hands shook. "You're under suspicion of murder, Jake! Now isn't the time to get romantic."

Jake turned back around and sneered down at his attourney. "No, just when you decide to take that little blue pill and beg me to screw you? What? Can't you get it up for a toy? And that damn 'I'm sick' bullshit is getting pretty damn thin, Erik!" Grabbing the younger man by the arms and pulling him to his feet, Jake shook him, inciting his anger. "Maybe, you have the hots for that damn Detective Stabler? Is that it?" Jake hissed.

"No." He was laughed at after being shoved back down, onto the sofa. Not having any time to move, Erik was pinned against the seat cushions as Jake came at him, again. "Stop, Jake!"

Erik's breathing became more and more erratic as the nightmare continued. Whimpering and groaing, he awoke to find his neighbour, Mrs. Harris, standing over him with a worried expression. Drawing ragged and wheezing breaths, Erik swallowed and shifted on the cushion. "I'm fine, Mrs. Harris." A faint smile and a quick look around the room, finding everything back in place from the maid service he requested.

Mrs. Harris' expression didn't change as he stood up from leaning over. "We heard screaming. Are you sure you want to stay here, Erik? You shouldn't be alone, in your condition." She stopped herself from helping him sit up, as she wasn't sure he wanted to be touched. "Why don't you let me pack a bag and you come stay in our guest room, for a few nights, huh?"

"No thank you, ma'am. I don't want to be a burden." Shaking his head, Erik cleared his throat.

Kneeling in front of him and placing a hand on the cushion, beside him, she softened to a motherly tone. "Erik, what he did almost killed you. On top of that, you're fighting cancer, by yourself. Now, Thomas made up the guest room and says you are more than welcome to stay with us, until you feel better."

Staring into her pleading eyes, Erik opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Mrs. Harris stood up and went to answer the door, in the foyer. "May I help you?"

"Yes, ma'am. My name is Captain Russell Anders, Brooklyn Homicide, retired. Is this the residence of Erik Matthews?" The man at the door addressed himself with his formal voice, the same voice he had used for 40 years, on the job. He had dressed in a suit and did his best to be as casual as possible, without seeming too formal.

"Homicide?" Mrs. Harris looked confused.

Erik had listened to the conversation and his eyes widened as he recognised the name the man had given. "It's alright, Mrs. Harris. Let him in." His mouth trembled and he felt like a child again as his father stepped inside and turned, making his way into the living room, where Erik sat. Swallowing his fear and looking up into his father's eyes, he relaxed and greeted the man. "Captain Anders."

"Son."

Mrs. Harris stood in the entryway. "Is everything alright, Erik?"

Erik turned his head and sighed. "Mrs. Harris, may I introduce Russell Anders, my father. Captain Anders, my neighbour, Mrs. Harris." His tone flattened as he caught the elder man's expression.

As the two greeted each other, Mrs. Harris excused herself to the kitchen to prepare something to eat for Erik to have with his medication. She wasn't too far away that she couldn't come running, if he called for her.

He waited for her to turn the corner before looking back to his father. "I haven't been your son in 20 years. Why show up at my door, now?" The resentment of years gone by welled up as he stared up at his father. He had missed his family but didn't want to be let down by a whim of guilt that would quickly pass. His shoebox of memories were not something he cared to dwell on, on any given moment, however, he had taken pride to collect anything on either father and/or brother he could find.

Anders cleared his throat and sat down in a chair, across from Erik, the coffee table, between them. "You walked out of my door."

"No. You told me to get out because I wasn't as perfect as Alex." Erik snapped. He had rehearsed over and over what he had wanted to tell his father but, it had never sounded like what came out.

Captain Anders took a deep breath and started to respond in anger but seeing Erik wince, in pain, as he shifted on the sofa. "I love both of my sons. Your mother--"

"Died. She was sick and you were busy. She was dying and you were nowhere to be found. She died.... and I was left alone." Erik contained himself from becoming too emotional over years of pent up emotions. "So, why are you here, now?"

Sighing and shifting positions, Anders leaned forward. He thought very carefully about what he wanted to say. "You're right. I left you both alone, when you needed me, and I'm sorry. You just grew up so fast. And the day you left was the day I thought would give you some time to think about things. I thought you had moved on, found a new, exciting life. But, when I saw you, in that bed, lying there, helpless," he paused to take a breath. Anders changed the subject to stop himself from falling apart. "I saw you, in that courtroom, and I didn't care that you were defending that scum. I was proud of my boy." He shook his head. "I don't think I ever told you, how proud I was. Of both my boys." He stood and walked away before stopping.

"Why now, Pop?" Erik trembled but didn't turn to look at his father's back.

"I was talking to a Detective Stabler of Manhattan Special Vics. He uh, told me that my son had been raped by his own client slash lover, in his own home. And that he had no one in his corner, for support. You woulda been proud of your brother. Came in, made sure they got things done, bagged evidence, got the kit, and then spent an hour with you, in your room. You know, that was the first time in years I saw you and your brother in the same room? He saw his baby brother, in that hospital bed with tubes and wires, goin' every which way.... He was about as scared and hurt and angry as I am now." Anders closed his eyes and turned around, from staring at the entryway. "Forty-three years on the job and I never cracked. The victims your brother and I saw never got their chance to put their attacker away. We rely on witnesses and evidence. I couldn't protect my boy from a monster, but I can't sit back and watch you punish yourself for my mistakes." Coming closer and sitting on the end of the sofa, Captain Anders silently pleaded with his son, who still avoided eye contact. "Talk to them, Erik."

"He's my client."

"He raped you." The three words choked him as he said them. The moment had been surreal for father and son to talk about but, it hadn't been anything Captain Anders hadn't been through before.

Residence of Marcus Martinelli
241C N. 36th Street
Yonkers
4:53 PM

Olivia and Fin stood in the middle of the foyer, piles of fresh tile stacked around them. The crackling sound of plastic as Marcus walked up to them from coming down the stairs. "Marcus Martinelli, Detective Benson and Tutuola. We'd like to ask you a few questions concerning your brother, Jacob."

"Yea? Thanks to him and that little trollop, he's been bringing around, I'm having to retile my entire bottom floor. I knew that kid was trouble, the second I met him." The older brother by three years, Marcus had been the only one of two brothers and one sister to make something of himself. He hadn't approved of Jake being homosexual and flaunting his lifestyle in front of Marcus and his family. Yet, he tolerated his younger brother in hopes he would wise up and make something of himself.

Fin looked around the room. "Mind if we ask what happened?"

Marcus exhaled his frustration. "A couple weeks ago, Jake and that bitch of his decided to play house." He paused a moment to instruct the painters, in the next room, what colours he wanted the walls, before coming back to the two detected and finishing his statement. "He told me he was the guy he was seein' on the side, got into a pissin' match with him and he needed a place to cool off. One night, I walk in, to open the house up for my family, while we have the main house in Islip cleaned, and their tweaked out, arguin' throwing my best wines, 40 year old scotchs and anything they could find in the fridge, at each other. Screaming bloody murder."

"Is this the man that was with your brother?" Olivia held up the 3x5 photo of Erik Matthews.

"No. That's Erik. Good kid. Good head on his shoulders. Sucks that he knows my brother."

Olivia held up the second photo. "This man?" The photo of Aaron Jasper's dating profile.

Again, Marcus shook his head. "No. This guy was older. Like a Jason, or Jackson...... Justin. That's the guy."

"Are you sure?" Fin cocked his head to one side and eyed the man as he thought.

"Positive. He's been talkin' about building some house in Boston and conned Jake into drawing up plans for him. Said it was gonna be their 'love nest', when it gets done." Curly black hair fell into his eyes, damp with sweat, and he wiped it away. Standing as tall as Fin, he eyed what the man was writing but turned to watch the front door open and his tilers walk in. "Give us a minute, in here. The floor's ready in the kitchen, if you want to start there." A graduate of School of Criminal Justice, he had worked closely with law enforcement before and had been good at his job.

Olivia waited for the workers to walk out of the entranceway and head toward the kitchen, before asking her next question. "How do you know Erik?"

Marcus thought back, folding his arms and rocking back on his heels. "Jake brought him along for my parents' anniversary party, about six years ago. They had just started their relationship. Erik had just graduated from law school so, I talked to my father about getting him a job." Nodding to the photo of Aaron Jasper, Marcus sneered. "When I saw that kid's picture on the news, I thought he had actually killed the kid."

"You thought Jake killed Erik?" Fin asked.

"No. That Justin guy. They found each other on some dating site. Jake was still seeing Erik. Then, one night, he shows up with that Justin guy, hanging off of him. I asked him about Erik, he said they called it quits. A month or so ago, he started bringing around the twink that was killed." Marcus checked his watch for the third time in five minutes.

Fin noted the man's irritation towards the questions but continued. "Your dad said you two had an argument, at his place, a while back. Care to say what it was about?"

Marcus shifted and sighed. "Yea, they were flaunting that ring the twink was wearing like it was some new baby, or something. Jake proposed to some kid he dressed up like Erik. I asked Jake if he told the real Erik yet, and that's when that twink threw a temper tantrum, in my father's dining room. He stormed out and Jake crawled after him, spitting nonsense about how he 'couldn't live without him' and that 'it was all just a mistake.' Jake's always been a player but, Erik Matthews, I liked him. Ever since he got sick, Jake's made his life Hell."

"Thank you for your time." Olivia smiled as they turned and left the house, listening to Marcus shout at someone over paint dripping on some "rare books." Olivia waited until they were in the car before she spoke up. "That means Justin Paxton lied about not knowing if Aaron Jasper was involved with anyone else."

Fin nodded. "It also means Paxton and Martinelli knew each other and Aaron Jasper was seein' both guys. Seems to me, that's motive for murder."

Erik Matthews Residence
5:43 PM

Elliot knocked on the door, once more, and waited for the door to open. He had been on his way home when he decided to stop and pay a visit to the young counselour and try to get him to come forward as a victim, against his own client. Elliot knew it was a long shot but, had only to try.

Opening the door and sighing out of exhaustion, Erik blinked. Is there something I can help you with, Detective Stabler?" His voice sounded hoarse and fragile. Gray sweatpants and an NYU sweatshirt covered the shivering young man.

Taking in the disheveled appearance, Elliot stepped back up to the top step. He had stepped down after knocking to give Erik some space. "I uh, came to apologise. I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, while you were in the hospital." He paused a moment when he heard voices, in the next room. "If you're busy, I won't keep you." The next sound he heard was the ding of a timer ending it's cycle.

The door opened wider and Erik drowsily stepped back. "Cooking show." He turned and hobbled his way slowly back to where he had been curled up, on the sofa. Hearing the door close, behind him, he silently prayed the detective had let him alone. Picking up the colourful, week-long pill sorter, he struggled to open the Evening tab. Trying to hold the sorter in his right hand and open the tab with his left, due to the cast on his right arm and a thin piece going between his thumb and forefinger, he growled his frustration as he was unable to open the tab. Taking a deep breath, Erik flinched as Elliot gently took hold of the pillcase and opened the tab, dumping out the five, different pills into Erik's left hand. "Thank you." He turned and looked at his empty glass and moved to reach for it. Another flinch as Elliot picked it up and stepped back to move to the kitchen.

"Why don't you sit down. I'll get you some water or juice?" Elliot watched as Erik took his time in sitting back down, on the sofa, before moving to the kitchen to fill the glass.

"Water's fine. Thank you." When Elliot returned with the glass of water, Erik placed the pills in an indent his sweatshirt had made and then one by one, swallowed them, sipping the water after placing each pill in his mouth.

Elliot looked about the space Erik sat in the middle of. Tissues, small, plastic wastecan that was half-full, Erik's pillow from his bedroom and blanket, told Elliot that the young man had decided to camp out on the same sofa he had been raped on. "You sleep down here?"

Looking about himself, Erik shrugged. "I would if I slept. Forced to cash in my vacation time. Bored, mostly but medication relaxes me enough to nap." Lethargy began to seep in, again. He yawned and looked down to the pillow, beside him, on his right. "Was there a reason why you're here, detective?" Drowsily, he looked up at Elliot, still standing in front of him, holding the glass of water.

Placing the 3/4 full glass down, on the glass coaster, on the coffee table, Elliot shoved his hands into his pants pockets. "I um, I came here to apologise. And, to see how you were doing. Is there anything I can get you?" Elliot looked around him for a plate or something that indicated he had eaten but found nothing. "Have you eaten?" He hadn't wanted to leave Erik alone, on the chance he might be needed for something. "Do you have someone staying with you? Checking in on you?"

"Mrs. Harris shared some pancakes, this morning. She's been checking in on me, every few hours or so. Why?" Erik yawned again and leaned back, fighting to stay awake. He watched as Elliot turned to make his way back to the kitchen to fix something for Erik to eat. His eyes couldn't help but slide down Elliot's back to stare at the detective's firm, khakied backside. Closing his eyes for a moment and listening, he began to envision what kissing Detective Stabler would taste like. Catching himself as his head fell back, Erik opened his eyes to find Elliot walking back with a small plate with diagonal cut pieces of toast with apricot jam on them. As Elliot lowered the plate, Erik took a piece and reluctantly thanked the detective, again. Finishing one piece and passing on the second, he sighed and struggled to keep his eyes open. He pushed himself up, off of the sofa and paused to regain his balance. "If there's nothing else, Detective Stabler......?" He took a step and feel forward, into Elliot's arms as the detective swiftly caught the young man from falling.

Elliot felt Erik's free arm wrap around him as Erik clung to him. They stood there for a long moment and he listened to Erik breathe in labored waves. "Been a long time since you were able to cry on someone's shoulder. Hasn't it?" He could feel the frail form beneath the clothes and the heavy head on his shoulder. Exhaling and rubbing a spot on Erik's back, Elliot didn't know whether to move or stand still a little while longer. "Why don't I help you to lie down and you get some rest." The smell of Erik's apple scented shampoo told him that the medication would eventually wear off enough for him to be coherent and could come back to ask the counselour to testify against his client. At the current standing, Elliot didn't want to pressure him into anything without rational thought.

Lifting his head and stepping back, Erik nodded. He then let Elliot guide him back to the sofa, pressing against the taut and muscular chest as he stepped backward. The scent of the man's cologne was intoxicating and Erik wanted to press his lips against the warm skin but stopped himself as he wasn't sure Elliot would approve. As his head hit the pillow and Elliot hovered above him, Erik had to swallow his first instinct to pull the man closer to him. It had been so long since he had actually wanted intimacy without help from a little blue pill, that he ended up shrugging and facing away from the man he had dreamt about since first meeting him. His last glimpse of Detective Stabler was that of the man covering him with the baby blue, knit blanket that had been carelessly thrown over the far arm of the sofa. He fell sound asleep as he heard Elliot sit down in an adjacent chair and sift through a magazine, from the coffee table.

Something had compelled Elliot to stay while Erik slept. The young man looked exhausted and pale, as if he had forced himself to wake up out of fear of being attacked, again. He could tell Erik needed the rest and seemed to rest more easily knowing that the detective was watching over him. Closing the magazine, he folding his hands, in his lap and studied Erik's sleeping form. He thought for a moment about holding the counselour, after catching him from falling. The closeness of the younger man and the way Erik held on for dear life before remembering who he held on to. He checked his watch before picking up the magazine, again and flipping through it.

Continued.
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The Devil You Know