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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Erik sat in Captain Cragen's office. The cast on his leg had been removed and replaced with a brace and the cast on his arm was freshly replaced with a splint. He sat with his back to the door, alone in the office, as the captain excused himself to retrieve a cup of water, for the attourney. He stared at the wall, in front of him, behind Cragen's desk and let his eyes wander over the plaques and medals and photos with framed articles. A ragged breath as he heard the door open and close, behind him. A small paper cup with water was offered to him. "Thank you," he said as he accepted it. "Captain, I am no longer apart of Jacob Martinelli's hi-jinx and I would really appreciate it if I was able to separate myself from this case."
"I'm sorry my detectives called you in, Counselour. However, we've come across some things you might find particularly unsettling." Cragen cleared his throat and opened a locked drawer, in his desk. He removed a few plastic evidence bags and placed them on the desk, between them. Sitting down, he watched the young man's expression change. "We believed it was your former client who intended to murder you but sufficed for Aaron Jasper, in your place." A tap on the glass window, in the door, caught his attention. Waving them in, he glanced back at Erik and watched as his brow furrowed.
Sitting forward, Erik stared at the pile of 4x6 photos of him doing every day things, walking, talking on his phone, eating meals or sitting on a bench in the park. "I don't understand." His eyes then filtered over the bagged journal and finally the simple house key.
"This evidence was taken from the home of a man named Justin Paxton. Have you ever met him?" Cragen glanced to Cabot, standing behind Erik, and then back to him as he answered.
Erik shook his head. "I don't think so. Who is he?"
Alex Cabot stepped around the side of him and stopped next to Cragen. "Justin Paxton is another lover of Jacob Martinelli's. The timeline puts him at dating Martinelli, just before you." She paused as Erik sat back and sighed as he looked up at her. "We brought you in because we need you to testify against Jacob Martinelli and Justin Paxton."
"No, please. Just.... I don't know what this is all about and, frankly, I don't have the time to invest in it. The man that was killed deserves the attention, not me. I've bent over backwards trying to keep my private life private. So far, it's cost me my privacy, my reputation and now, my health. And, you want me to commit career suicide? I can't." Erik shook his head and sat back in his chair. He suddenly felt weak and drained. His anxiety crept in around him and he started to feel jittery.
"I promise, I will do my best to keep your involvement as minimal as possible. Erik, you are the block that puts these two away, for good. After your testimony, You'll be released from this case, until the verdict is read. Please, help us." Alex pleaded as he had turned his attention back to her.
Cragen looked over at Alex and then back to the young man that looked more exhausted from the whole ordeal than anything. "Counselour, we understand you value your privacy and we'll try to make this as free of stress on you, as possible. But, Justin Paxton took it upon himself to stalk you and then Aaron Jasper when he realised Martinelli was cheating on him. He also framed you for the murder of Aaron Jasper, just to get back at Jacob Martinelli. After all that, you're prepared to let him get away with framing you for something you didn't do?"
Alex leaned over the desk, bracing herself on her right hand. "Erik, testify for us, against Paxton and Martinelli. You are a victim, too."
Examining the counselour's expression, Cragen added, "We know this has been hard on you and what you're going through. We can't move forward until you allow us to help you." He paused a moment, finally noticing just how frail Erik Matthews was. "How long do you have?" Meeting the young man's eyes, he could see the pain that had come so close to being tangible.
"Not long. About six months." Erik paused to gather himself. "You're asking me to shorten that time by placing this stress on me? Regardless of the outcome, I'll never live long enough to reestablish myself, either in career or personal life. It doesn't matter what I say, now." Staring at his now trembling hands and wishing he had someone to still them and offer their strength, Erik closed his eyes and answered. "Fine. I need to rest. This can wait until tomorrow, Ms. Cabot."
Both Alex and the captain nodded. "Of course."
"I'll have an officer drive you home." Cragen stood and made his way around to the side of the desk as Erik also stood, slowly.
Shaking his head, Erik kept his gaze lowered. "No thank you. I have a friend that lives a few blocks from here. I'll call a cab." Making his way to the door, Erik didn't turn around to see them watch him as he left quietly.
~~~~~~~
Elliot had watched the muted conversation between Erik and Cragen, in Cragen's office, and then kept his eyes on Erik as he stood to leave. He stood as Erik stopped at the lift and placed a hand on the wall, to steady himself. Making his way over to the paled counselour, Elliot asked if he was alright.
"I'm fine. Just tired." Erik nodded.
Brow furrowing, Elliot didn't want to push it. "Someone taking you home?"
With a glance over his right shoulder, again, Erik nodded. "Cab."
Elliot's expression flitted into worry. "That's a long ride, counselour. I'll grab my coat." Not waiting for Erik to disagree, he turned on his heel and hurried back to grab his coat, from the hook. He hadn't trusted a Manhattan cabbie to drive an ill and frail man home, two cities away. It hadn't mattered if it was day or night. Walking back to the lift, he noticed Erik hadn't moved to watch him. Pushing the button for the door, he ushered the young man into the car and hit the Lobby button.
The silence between them had been thick. Awkward. "You don't have to do this, detective." Erik stole small glances over at the man beside him. His pulse beat a little faster as he eyed the detective's firm chest behind the tan button up and toned thighs, carefully hidden under dark gray slacks.
"Cab driver's are ruthless. Besides, that ride could get expensive." Elliot turned to glance over at the young man and caught his eye.
Erik blinked and looked away. "There is a friend I can stay with, just a few blocks from here. She can take me home, tomorrow."
Taking a breath and then asking, Elliot had been genuinely concerned about the younger man. "Do you need your medication?"
"I'll take it tomorrow."
Elliot turned and stared at Erik. "Erik, I may not know what you're going through but, it's important to keep you healthy. Let me take you home, counselour." There was another awkward silence between them as the doors opened, inviting them into the lobby.
Catching the detective's eye, he swallowed and finally nodded, feeling more exhausted as they stood there. At first, he had wondered if he heard right. The man he dreamt about wanted to take him home, out of genuine concern. It had been real, though. And, as Erik was lead to the Crown Victoria and sat in the passenger seat, he felt his heart flutter. The drive had been a long one, even with the interstate, but Erik wished it had been longer. He had relaxed and silently enjoyed his time alone, with Detective Stabler.
As the car pulled up to the curb, in front of the brownstone, Erik sat there, a moment, wanting to take in his time with Stabler. Sighing and glancing over at the driver, he thanked him for the ride and reached a shaky hand to the door, in attempt to open it. Before he could steady himself, Elliot was out of the driver's seat and around the side to open his door and help him out. "Thank you. I can get it." Reaching into his pocket for his keys, he silently gave himself a reminder to call a locksmith, after seeing the duplicate house key, in an evidence bag. Handling his keys, his eyes spotted the gold ring on the detective's hand and Erik felt his heart sink. "Good night, Detective Stabler. Thank you for the ride home." Starting for the stoop, he paused and turned around. "Would you like some coffee? For the ride back?" He had hoped Elliot would agree and give him the pleasure of more company with the handsome detective. His heart soared as Elliot nodded and followed him inside.
"My pills are upstairs. If you'll excuse me, a moment." Removing his long, wool coat, Erik offered the detective a seat while he fetched his pillcase from the nightstand, next to his bed. Opening the drawer and removing the evening tab, his eye caught a knocked over bottle of natural erection stimulants. He sighed as it had been both hopeless and desired to make love to man that wanted him. His illness had robbed him of his want for intimacy and Jake had cured him of ever thinking it would be pleasant, again. Yet, the handsome, straight and married, Detective Stabler had been downstairs, waiting for him. Erik sighed, defeated.
A knock at the door. "Everything alright?"
Removing his pillcase from the drawer and closing it, he turned and nodded. "Fine." He glanced at the clock, on his dresser, and realised it had been 10 minutes since he had made his way upstairs. "Coffee, yes. I'm sorry. I guess I was distracted." Erik started to walk back to the door when Elliot held up a hand to stop him.
"I'm not worried about the coffee. Is everything okay, Erik?" Elliot took in the counselour's frail appearance and motioned for him to sit down, on the bed. When Erik only nodded but didn't move from where he stood, Elliot stepped over to the side of the bed and sat down. "You've been a little distracted, since leaving the captain's office. Is something wrong?"
Shaking his head and closing his eyes, trying to hide the tears that welled up, Erik cleared his throat. "I'm fine, detective. I just have a lot going on." He smiled and tried to shake off the nervous feeling that itched to get closer to the other man.
Elliot nodded. He stood and stepped closer to Erik. "If you're not feeling well, why don't you lie down? I'll get you some water and something to eat."
Erik smiled, again. "Jake used to do that. Get my pills, water, anything I needed. After my first treatment, I was in bed for a week, throwing up and just exhausted. By the time my second treatment came around, Jake started doing less and less for me." Finally sitting down on the bed, Erik stared at the pillcase in his hand. "I told my doctor I needed another option and that I was being pressured to spend more time with Jake, rather than on the bathroom floor. He said it was typical to want to be more intimate, with my partner, because cancer takes it away from you." Pausing a moment as Elliot sat back down, he took a breath. "Jake was like a spoiled child, just constantly wanting attention. So, I asked my doctor, again, what we could do. He told me about natural supplements that wouldn't affect my medications and would let me relax." Again, he paused to collect himself. "The first night we made love, I had to stop. I kept a bowl under my bed and threw up in that but, Jake had had enough. He moved out the next day. Since then, I've done little things to appease him but," Erik shook his head slightly, "there's no pleasure in it, for me. And, when it comes to dealing with cancer, I'm on my own."
"Your neighbours seem to care about you."
Erik nodded. "They do. I'm grateful. They've helped me, alot. But, I'm still a burden on them."
Elliot looked around the room that had changed dramatically, since he and Olivia had searched Erik's house. The photos of Erik and Jake had disappeared and were replaced with oil paintings of landscapes, a friend from work had done for him, in effort to cheer him up. The room, itself, had also changed from evidence of two men living together, to one with next to nothing that had made it a home. Boxes, of various sizes, had been stacked, in one corner and were labeled of contents. Elliot noticed the boxes. "Are you moving?"
Nodding sullenly, Erik glanced over at the boxes he had been working on filling for two days. "To Brooklyn. Selling what I can and giving the rest away. Trying to take care of everything now, so that, all Pop has to do is sign the release, from the coroner and let me be buried next to my mom." He hadn't wanted to think of anything so final, just yet but had no choice, after his oncology appointment, earlier that week. "Pop is letting me stay with him." Remembering the pills in the case, in his hand, he stood. "I need to take these." Taking a step forward, he paused as Elliot also stood and held up his hand.
"Have you eaten, yet?"
Erik blinked. "Lunch."
"Food in the house?"
"Yes."
Elliot took in how pale and ghostly Erik looked and thought to himself that the young man probably hadn't had much of an appetite and therefore, chose to eat like a bird. "How about I fix you something to eat so you can take your medicine and get some rest?"
Erik wrestled with his emotions. "I'll be fine, Detective Stabler." He had wanted so badly to close the distance and make mad, passionate love to the man a few feet away from him. However, the ring on Elliot's left hand stopped him from acting out his impulses. Feeling awkward about both men standing in his bedroom, Erik cleared his throat and once again, made a move to return downstairs. For a moment, his body ached and exploded a sensation he hadn't felt in a long time. His heart beat a little faster as he stepped forward and tears came to the corners of his eyes. Biting his lip, in attempt to stop the trembling, he caught sight of Elliot's soft, pink lips part, in effort to say something. He swallowed and wanted to press his own mouth to Elliot's. At first, he waited to be shoved away and spat on but, nothing came.
Something in his brain told him to stop and back away. Erik sighed as he stepped back, eyes moving to the floor between them. "I'm sorry, detective. I um, I should really take my pills." Making his way, slowly, back downstairs, Erik kicked himself for wanting a married man. It was a rule, of his, never to come between a marriage or force himself on anyone that did not reciprocate his own feelings. Yet, he did not want to die alone or without knowing that someone else cared for him, the way he cared for them. Another sigh of defeat as he sat down, halfway to the bottom.
Following Erik downstairs, Elliot paused to see if he was alright. When Erik nodded, he continued to the kitchen and retrieved a glass of water and placed it on the step, beside Erik. His next task was to fix something for Erik to eat and set about his task by asking questions of where things were and what the young man was hungry for.
"There's some Spaghettios, in the cupboard."
Elliot opened the cupboard door, next to the refrigerator, and removed the colourful can and stared at it. "Spaghettios?"
Erik pulled himself to his feet and continued his way downstairs, sitting down on the antique, blue settee he had sitting in a far corner of the dining room. "My mom would fix me Spaghettios, when I was sad or ill. Somehow, it always made me feel better." Placing the glass of water down on the small, round table, next to the right arm of the settee. He stared down at the pillcase and struggled but eventually opened the tab and dumped the five different pills, into his hand. He stared at the pile of pills and then placed them, one by one, in his mouth and sipped his water. He heard the microwave ding and footsteps as Elliot came closer, with the bowl of Spaghettios. He finished his pills and held out his hands to receive the bowl of hot food Elliot carried, sitting on a sunflower print oven mitt. "Thank you." Blowing on a spoonful and taking a bite, he eyed the detective that pulled a chair from the dining table and sat across from him. Swallowing his bite and scooping another spoonful, he voiced his question. "Why are you doing this, for me?"
With his legs apart, Elliot leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. "I understand what it's like to need someone, to take care of them."
"You had cancer?"
Elliot shook his head. "No, but, I know about illness and taking care of loved ones who suffer from debilitating illness. It's not easy to go through."
"No. But, it's easier on the sidelines." Erik smiled meekly at his poor attempt at humour. He took another bite and was already feeling full. He eyed Elliot's position and wondered if the older detective was doing it to tease him, or not. The wrestling feeling was beginning to overwhelm him, again. As he ate, he wondered what Stabler's reaction would be, if he told him how he felt. With only a few bites left, Erik felt full. Placing the bowl beside him, on the settee, he leaned back with a small groan and wince of pain. "I need to ask you something, Detective Stabler."
Smiling briefly, Elliot cleared his throat and shifted his position. "Okay."
Erik sighed and stared for a long moment, at the ring on Elliot's hand. "Why doesn't it bother you that I'm gay?" Meeting the man's eyes, a knot started to form in the pit of his stomach as he waited for the detective's answer. "Trying to get into Prosecution's dugout? Or, is it a retired Police Captain's?"
Elliot laughed at the two summations. "Not quite. Despite your dad and job, you're a victim; of rape and assault and Leukemia. Those three things shouldn't be in the same sentence. Let alone vocabulary. But, they are, and it happened, to you. Same or separate sides of the courtrrom aside, no one should have to deal with those three things. You were gay long before any of them happened. It's not my job to change that." He paused to meet eyes with the younger man. "It is my job to protect and help victims of rape and assault. Your attacker was someone you trusted and cared about. Someone who was supposed to be a support in your illness treatment. If I can help make that loss a little less unbearable and lonely, I'll do it."
Shifting and clearing his throat, Erik bit his lip to stop the trembling. "You're not afraid of me trying to 'hit on' you?"
Elliot leaned back in his chair. "Should I be? You haven't yet."
Erik's eyes lowered for a second before he caught himself as to where they stared. His tongue wet his lips, nervously. "What would you think, or say, if I asked to kiss you?"
Cocking his head to the side, Elliot met Erik's eyes again. "Are you hitting on me, now, Counselour?"
Erik swallowed. "Hypothetical." He had to switch to his courtroom facade before Elliot said an answer that would ultimately break his heart.
"Do you want to kiss me, Counselour?"
This time, Erik couldn't suppress his lip from trembling as Elliot answered him with a question. He had to look away. Closing his eyes to gather the courage, he opened them and stared directly into Elliot's soft blue eyes. "Yes." His next breath was one of relief, as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from him. Acknowledging Elliot's change in expression and sighing as the feeling of dread washed over him, he added, "if you want to run, feel free. Don't worry about hurting my feelings."
"I'm still here, Counselour." Elliot shifted in his seat.
Erik hadn't moved from his seat. He could feel himself blush and wanted desperately to be in the detective's strong arms, feeling the man's closeness.
Elliot examined Erik's posture; tension had replaced relaxed, legs closed with hands balled into fists as if beating his thighs in punishment of touching something that wasn't his. "But, you want to. Don't you?" Pausing as he captured Erik's attention.
"What I want shouldn't be a concern of yours, detective." His voice void of emotion.
Nodding, Elliot smiled at the statement.
"I.... apologise.... if I've made you feel uncomfortable." Repeating the words Stabler had told him only months prior, Erik focused on the older man's expression. "I wasn't always gay, you know. My brother had this girlfriend, in high school. Cute, smart, liked to wear those little sweaters that were fuzzy, you know? One day, it was raining and I had to walk home because my bike had a flat tire. She had this blue '67 Mustang hardtop. Popped the trunk, threw the bike inside and slid onto the passenger seat. Eight blocks from home, she pulled over, into this parking structure. She undid her seatbelt and told me I was wildly different than my brother. Anyway, she told me she liked my long hair, as Alex kept his short, jock short. We clicked. Had lotsa talks and laughs, about everything. It didn't matter that she was in NYU and I was just a lowly Freshman. Alex was graduating, anyway." He stopped to see Elliot listening to him. "She told that she liked me. Barely 16 and was making out with the Homecoming Queen of FDR High." He paused as he thought back to the day and being in the front seat with his brother's girl. Damp, shoulder-length brown hair being toyed with as he kissed her lips and frantically tried to remove his jacket. "When I got home, Alex followed me upstairs, nagging me about why it took so long for her to bring me home. The next day, his friends had heard about it. I spent my lunch crammed into my locker, in the boy's gym and the rest of the day begging the Principal not to call my pop. That night," Erik shivered. "Alex made it abundantly clear not to mess with things that didn't belong to me. I figured Kevin was safe because he came on to me." He shook his head as he remembered the horrified and irate expression his brother wore after finding them in bed, together. "I didn't know that meant best friends, too."
Elliot nodded his understanding. "So, you decided being gay was something that let you have what you wanted?"
Erik scoffed. "You're married, detective."
Pausing at the statement, Elliot raised an eyebrow. "There are plenty of people out there, who would spend their life with you."
Erik bowed his head. "I have no interest in going to a bar, getting drunk or high, just to have a good time, detective. Most of the guys, I meet, just want a fling. Also, once I tell them my diagnosis, they won't stay."
"Not everyone hears the word 'cancer' and flees."
Erik nodded. "Perhaps not. But, 'terminal' is a definite deterrent. I would rather not spend my last days searching only to end up alone, on my deathbed." The words seemed to bite him more than Elliot.
A moment of heavy silence passed between them. Elliot could tell Erik felt very uncomfortable about the conversation and thought it best to leave it alone, for the night. "Maybe, I should let you get some sleep?" He stood and stepped forward to retrieve the bowl with three bites of Spaghettios left in it. He paused as Erik struggled to stand up. They came together and Elliot had been stunned to feel Erik's soft lips against his. It had lasted only a few seconds but long enough for him to shake away the startlement and hold Erik by the forearms. He hadn't pulled away but also hadn't let it continue.
Erik pulled back and immediately lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry, Detective Stabler. I won't take up any more of your time."
His brow furrowed and his expression showed his question but he released the young man's arms and stepped back for Erik to pass, following him to the door. As he stepped over the threshold, he turned and caught Erik's sorrow play over his face. "Why did you kiss me?"
A deep breath and a heavy sigh before Erik answered. "Call it, 'I was tired of wondering what it would be like.' Good night, detective." A sad smile as the door closed quietly.

Continued.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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The Devil You Know