1. Beautiful Boy

**Title: Thursday's Child**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Jack and Benji have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: The case of a missing adopted boy rattles Olivia while she thinks of what her and her family have gone through and what they are still struggling with in their day-to-day. A short story recasting the final scenes of Wednesday's child in the AU of Olivia/Benji/Jack. **

**Author's Notes: So fans of the series asked for some O/S until I'm ready to start the sequel to Hello, Goodbye. I guess you're getting your wish. The timelines of this are a little flexible so as to not spoil some of what will be happening in the sequel. It's likely best to consider it separately from the sequel and to just assume it's happening basically in the present rather than fitting it neatly within the AU's timeline. **

**This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. Most of the chapters will ultimately take place outside of the work environment, so there aren't going to be too many references to cases from the show. Please let me know what you think and if you distribute elsewhere.**

Olivia bit her tongue and held in the disgusted sigh she felt fighting to push from her lungs. She forced herself to barely meet her eyes and then as quickly forced herself to turn to start to leave. To walk away.

It was hard. Looking at the woman. Hearing her ask if she could go see the son that she'd abandoned. The child that she'd just damaged more when he'd already been struggling with so much. She was so much she wanted to say to her. Wanted to scream at her. But it wasn't her place – especially now with her rank. And, she told herself, that woman – she wasn't worth it.

But then she had the tenacity to speak. "I know what you're thinking," said Lisa Moore. Olivia felt herself turning back towards her against her better judgment. But her anger was propelling her. She was fighting to keep it down. To keep it in check because it was pushing to become more than anger. It was raging in her. "But I was having a breakdown."

"I'm sure you were," Olivia managed with an almost even tone. "But you call someone. You ask for help. You don't just discard a child."

She thought of all the times she'd struggled with admitting that she needed help. How hard it was to suck up that pride and to admit to others how hard it was to be a mother. How challenging boy of her boys were. How frustrating it was. How emotional it could be. How completely fucking exhausting. How her perfect little family was so incredibly far from perfect – and she how she knew how visible that was to even the most casual observer. But there'd been countless times where she'd had to stop herself. Where she had to put aside herself and her feelings and her shame and her insecurities and to say she needed help. How she'd had to admit to her partner and to Alex and to her Captain - and even to people who hadn't ended up wanting to help – that she needed it. She needed help. She couldn't do it alone. There were days and nights and weekends that she couldn't handle the boys. There were problems she couldn't solve. There were frustrations that made her want to go into the bathroom and turn on the water so the boys couldn't hear her crying. There were nights where after she was sure Benji was asleep she'd go into her room and scream into her pillow. There were jogs she forced herself to fit in even when she couldn't fit them in because she was afraid if she didn't let out her pent up anger and sadness and frustration she might say or do something to one of the boys that she'd forever regret. So she made herself admit she needed help. Even when she didn't want to. Because she needed it – and the boys needed her to do that. And, it wasn't about her. It was about them.

She thought of how Jack had been discarded as a child. As a little boy. How his mother had walked away and left him. How he'd spent his entire childhood asking why. How he was spending his young adulthood wondering if he wasn't good enough and if he'd ever be good enough. How Olivia sometimes felt that even though she'd earned the title of 'Mom' from him, she didn't think she'd ever be quite enough. That she'd never be able to fill that hole that that woman had left. And, worse, she'd never be able to answer all of Jack's questions when he got tired or scared or insecure about why some unknown woman that he could only vaguely picture - and for which most photos seemed to have been destroyed – had gone away. Why he'd been left standing on a porch while she got in a car and never ever came back.

She thought about the night Jack had discarded Benji. How he hadn't known what to do anymore. How he hadn't known how to ask for help – so the closest thing he'd been able to come up with was to get close to her, to get mad at her and then to leave a crying, scared little boy – little more than a baby – on the stoop of her building. But he was a baby-faced eighteen-year-old. He wasn't much more than a child himself – and he was scared and hurt and confused and completely without resources. But Olivia thought about how much even those few minutes of discardment - those seconds it'd taken her to get from her buzz to the building's front door – had etched themselves into Benji's psyche. How he still cringed when she was leaving him. How his eyes would track how she left. How he wanted to know where she was going and when she'd be back. And, God forbid if she wasn't back when she said she would. How answers could never be time based anymore. She wouldn't be back at 5 p.m. She'd be back 'tonight'. She thought about how he clung to her and how scared he still was that he might be left alone on a doorstep again.

She thought about how his mother had discarded him too. Not in the same way. But how she'd left. How she'd brought a child into the world that she'd never really wanted and how she'd founded unique and unusual ways to display to an infant and toddler just how uncared about he was. Just how unimportant. Just how much she was unwilling to get help or change. How he wasn't ever going to come first. Until she made the choice to put herself first one last time and left him alone forever. How she'd left him wondering too in his own little boy way why he wasn't good enough. Why she'd never be coming back. Why and how and when and where. The questions didn't so much matter as the cause and the effect. And the effect was that no matter how beautiful and wonderful and perfect her little boy was, he was also a little broken. No matter how diligent and loving and tender and kind Olivia was to him, she also knew that she'd never be able to quite put him back together. There'd always be some pieces missing that were always going to be just out of reach. No matter how hard she tried to fix it.

"I know that now," Moore said. She seemed broken. But Olivia didn't care. For as broken as she might be – it was the child in the next room that needed and deserved the attention and the fixing, especially when this woman was the immediate cause.

"Do ya? Do you have any idea how lucky you are that your child came back alive? Unharmed?" Olivia spat through gritted teeth.

"You don't understand," Moore near whined at her but the eye contact was gone.

It was the wrong thing to say, though, and Olivia choked on her disgust.

"I don't understand?" she near spat in a laugh at just how stupid this woman actually was. "I don't understand?" she found herself saying again, as the impetus to just walk away faded and the anger took over.

"You have no idea how much I understand," Olivia heard herself saying as the rage at this woman bubbled over. "I'm you. But I don't have the nice home and the husband with the fancy job title. What I do have, though, is a son. An adopted son. He's five. He came to live with me when he was four. And you know what? All those things you and your husband listed off about Nicky? Not adjusting well? Problems at home? Bolting ahead in the streets? No real friends? Wild child? Ongoing socialization and developmental issues? Attachment issues? Difficulty bonding with other children? You think that's unique to you? You think that's something that's exclusively to Nicky? It's not."

Olivia glared at her. She didn't care anymore that this woman looked tired. She didn't care that she looked regretful. She wasn't sure she bought any of it. And, her sympathy certainly wasn't with Lisa Moore. It was with the little boy who'd just gone through hell and who had nearly died because of this woman's selfishness.

"My little boy. My beautiful, loving, wonderful little boy – has all those problems. All of them. And you know what? I come to work every day and have to deal with people like you. I put my energy into helping people like you, fix situations that you've created. And, then I get to go home and be with him. And do you think by the time I get home it's some sort of fantasy-land of motherhood? It's not. More often than not he's had a bad day. Something's happened at school or daycare. He's upset. He's clingy. Or worse. He's off the walls. And getting him to sit still or listen? It's just not going to happen.

"There's no such things as a perfect child, Lisa," Olivia spat and felt her hand come out and jab a finger at the other woman. She had to force herself to let her arm fall back to her side for fear she might lash out with more than a finger. "There's just not. It wouldn't matter if Nicky was your flesh in blood or if it was a child that you met and fell in love with instead of your husband. Every child – every person – comes with their own challenges. And, motherhood – parenthood – it isn't pretty. It isn't a Disney movie. It's not sunshine and rainbows. It's hard fucking work. And from that child – it is going to be thankless if what you're expecting is to hear a thank you. But do you have any idea how many people long to be parents? How many people spend years wanting it?"

"We wanted it," Lisa near whispered. "We tried for years to get pregnant."

"But you didn't," Olivia hissed at her. "And what you got – who you got – was Nicky. And, he is perfect. He isn't the problem. He has some problems. He has some things to work through. He has some baggage. But HE is not the problem. You are. And what you did was just add to that baggage he is going to have to carry for the rest of his life. You betrayed his trust, Lisa. And, if there were any better options for Nicky, I would recommend you don't get him back. Because right now the only consolation I have is that he has a father who loves him. But that's only going to count for so much if he's father is never home and he's stuck with you."

Lisa let out a small gasp and glanced up at her from her downward cast gaze. She looked like a timid mouse. She looked like she thought she was going to be squashed and Olivia thought if she could, she'd like to squash her. She'd like her to experience a small part of the pain and torment she'd caused that little boy.

"We don't all get to pick our children," Olivia said. "We don't get to pick when they'll arrive or who their genes will have come from. Some times they just arrive. I wasn't ready for my son. I wasn't expecting him. At all. He just … came home. Stop being so fucking selfish. You better be prepared to spend the rest of your life making up what you did to him."

Olivia turned on her heel and moved to storm from the room.

"It's going to be different," Lisa said quietly in a weak call after her.

"I hope so," Olivia said forcibly without even looking back. But as she turned the corner she ploughed smack into Rollins, who was leaning against the wall just outside the medical supply alcove.

Olivia gaped at her and Amanda gaped back. Reality came crashing back. She was a lieutenant with the NYPD. She was commanding a squad now. She'd just laid out her personal life and her personal opinions and had ripped into a civilian. She'd let her personal feelings cloud her judgment. But even then she didn't feel like she'd said the half of what she had really wanted to say to that woman. Not even an ounce of what she wanted to do to her.

"Sorry," Rollins sputtered, caught in her eavesdropping. She must've heard all of it. She was only steps from the door to Nicky's room. His father still inside and talking in hushed tones to the little boy. Olivia suddenly hoped she hadn't been so loud that they'd heard her raging at their mother and wife too. Though, maybe they needed to hear it too. To know they were supported by someone. To know they were worth it. If Lisa couldn't see that – at least someone could. Someone cared.

"You didn't hear that," Olivia said flatly.

Amanda looked at her innocently and shrugged. "Hear what?" she asked.


	2. Never Bail

**Title: Thursday's Child**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Jack and Benji have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: The case of a missing adopted boy rattles Olivia while she thinks of what her and her family have gone through and what they are still struggling with in their day-to-day. A short story recasting the final scenes of Wednesday's child in the AU of Olivia/Benji/Jack. **

**Author's Notes: So fans of the series asked for some O/S until I'm ready to start the sequel to Hello, Goodbye. I guess you're getting your wish. The timelines of this are a little flexible so as to not spoil some of what will be happening in the sequel. It's likely best to consider it separately from the sequel and to just assume it's happening basically in the present rather than fitting it neatly within the AU's timeline. **

**This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. Most of the chapters will ultimately take place outside of the work environment, so there aren't going to be too many references to cases from the show. Please let me know what you think and if you distribute elsewhere.**

Olivia listened to the phone ringing. She was starting to think Jack wasn't going to pick up and she'd be left leaving a message. But then she heard the familiar sound of the line cutting in. Though the muffled rumblings around it suggested to her that the phone was either being dug out of a pocket or a backpack. The air of the call clearly had the distinct sound that he was outside. There was that muffled background noise going on though as the rumblings of the phone being pawed at increased and it obviously was retrieved from wherever it'd been, she began to hear background voices and some music too.

"Man, you calling just scared the shit out of me," Jack near yelled into her ear. It only confirmed that he was outside. He was always yelling in the phone when he was outside. It was like he thought he was having to yell across the city and above the traffic noise for her to hear. She'd mentioned it to him before but, as with most things she said to him, it was seeming to take a while to stick.

"Sorry," she said with a small smile and a shake of her head.

"Ma," he shrieked in a voice that sounded so much like Benji's when he was shrieking at her. It made her know almost exactly what her little boy's voice was going to sound like when it broke. Thankfully that was still years and years away. She'd take little boy shrieking over excited college boy shrieking most days anymore. "I was about to land a fucking killer trick."

"Language, Jack," she huffed into the phone. Another work in progress. Though, most days than not she seemed to have knocked most of the profanity out of him. At least around her and Benji. The fact it was seeping in at the moment just suggested to her that he was likely with boys his age, which wasn't a bad thing. Getting Jack to that point had been another extended work in progress.

"Yeah, sorry," he muttered. "I was just about to land a nollie hard flip when you called. I totally bailed. Would have some killer road rash if it wasn't for this black ice."

"So maybe it was the black ice and not my phone call that sent you flying," she suggested.

She could almost hear him shrug. "Yeah, maybe," he allowed.

"Sweetheart, why are you skateboarding in this weather?" she asked. "It's freezing."

"Ma," he protested. "Have you see the sky today. The sun …"

"Jack, it's dark," she said.

"Whatever."

"Whatever?" she pressed. "More reason not to be skateboarding when it's icy out. And the coldest day of the year."

"It's January," Jack said. "Coldest day of the year doesn't count for shit."

"Jack," she sighed at him.

"It's barely five," he said, dodging the swearing chastising and reverting to protesting him being wandering around too much after dark. Or the possible suggestion that a skateboard park or hangout was somehow sketchy at five o'clock in the afternoon – even in the winter had brought darkness already. As dark as the city ever really did get.

"Mmm …" she allowed. He had a point there. Barely.

"So what's up?" he asked.

She took her turn to shrug as she continued to walk down the street. It was cold. Maybe skateboarding was a good plan to keep warm. Or at least get to where she was going faster. Getting back to the precinct was taking forever. In that weather, she might've been smarter to just wait for Rollins to finish up and caught a drive. But she'd gone to the ADA's office first and now was trekking cross-country to go and retrieve her little boy so she could actually get to go home. At least after she checked to make sure Nick and Fin had gotten things processed with Alexa and Roger and she signed off on anything that now needed her signature with Cragen gone and her supposedly in charge.

In charge of work. In charge of work. A caretaker and caregiver in ways she'd never really imagined. In ways she hadn't even really considered not so long ago. So many changes. Debatably more than Lisa had had to adjust to in her two years.

"I just wanted to say hi," she said.

That wasn't entirely true. She had wanted to say hi. But she'd mostly wanted to hear his voice. Part of her wanted to tell him what had been going on at work. To tell him how much it had made her think of him and Benji. To tell him how much it made her ache again – more – for everything he'd had to go through. For how many people who'd disappointed him and hurt him and abandoned him. How she'd never do that to him. Ever. How she knew how much damage that did. How he deserved so much better. To tell him how much the whole case had impacted her and disgusted her. But she knew that'd be inappropriate. That would be more than he needed to know. More than he needed to hear. And, ultimately, hearing those words and stories and sentiments would only make him worry. Which wasn't what she wanted to do to him. He worried about enough. He had enough to worry about. Enough to work through. He didn't need her baggage. He didn't deserve for her to make it about her.

She'd be just as bad as Lisa then. It wasn't about her. It was about them. And, just how much better she wanted things to be for them. How she was doing everything within her power to make sure it was better. How she'd never be a Lisa. How they never had to worry about being a Nicky ever again. They were loved and wanted so much. Even on the days and nights and weekends that they drove her crazy.

So she just called to say hi. That was enough. Hearing his voice and knowing he was OK – that he was a functioning, college student out skateboarding on a Thursday evening – that was enough.

"What's up?" she asked because she could near feel his skepticism at her just wanting to say hi.

"Nuttin'," he said cautiously. "I'm just getting a session in."

"Hmm," she allowed. "You're working tonight?"

"Yeah," he said. "Jetting to Funky's in a few."

"OK," she allowed. "I won't keep you. Let you get in a few more runs before you have to head in. Just thought I'd touch base."

There was a pause. A silence hung between them. In the quiet she seemed to feel the cold chill of the air even more and walked a little faster.

"You OK, Mom?" he asked. There was a quiet concern to his voice.

Olivia smiled into the phone a bit. She didn't think that was something that Lisa Moore was ready to understand yet. Maybe she wouldn't ever be. But for all the frustrations and lost sleep and stress and worry and heartache that a child brought you – it was another person in your life. That they cared about you. Sometimes they cared about you more than you cared about yourself – even if they never quite put it that way. But they depended on you. They wanted the best for you because they needed you. She wasn't sure Lisa Moore understood that those were the thank yous she should be listening for. That's what she should be hearing and seeing. The child's little ways of reaching out and caring and giving back – so much.

She also didn't think that Moore quite understood that those thank yous didn't come when you had a little boy. She'd learned too that with traumatized and abandoned children, the 'I love yous' didn't always come from a little boy, even if you knew they loved you and even if you loved them and showed them that every day. If you told them that every day.

She'd heard 'I love you' from Jack more than she had Benji. Benji still struggled with those words so much. He still said them so sparingly. Even for such a little boy, he knew those words were special and not just for anyone or anything. He knew to save it. Olivia could still count on her two hands how many times he'd uttered those words to her. She could still sit and think and pinpoint each exact moment. Where they'd been. What they'd been doing. If he'd said it casually or if he'd said it so purposefully and looked at those eyes of his that at times looked to hold a soul so much older than five years old.

And, as hard as it sometimes was to dote and wait on a child so much and not hear, Olivia knew she was lucky to have an older boy. Because he did know the value of a thank you. Just like her little boy knew the value of an 'I love you'. She still didn't hear them daily. Not even weekly. Sometimes not monthly. But she did hear them.

And even when she didn't hear them, there were other things. The dishwasher cleared. The laundry folded. The orange juice picked up for Saturday morning brunch without her asking that he stop. The little note left on the counter, "Took off. See you Friday night." The texts that said nothing in particular. They were all thank yous and I love yous. They were all small moments amid the chaos that made it so worth it. So worth it to hear their giggles and to see their smiles. So worth it to even have the privilege to wipe away their tears and told hold them in a tight hug. To feel their arms wrap around you and their chin rest against your shoulder.

It counted. It mattered. And, she mattered to them too. So much. She didn't need to be told. She knew. It's why she had to take care of herself. She mattered. To someone. To them. And that was important.

"I'm fine, Jack," she assured him.

"Yeah?" he pressed and she could hear him moving now too. She heard some calls of "Later" and "Lates Whack" and "C-ya JP". Jack muttered something away from the speaker of the phone and then it was just his feet on the pavement. His pace nearly matching hers. He'd given up his last few runs through the skatepark – or wherever he was – before going to work, to talk to her. That counted too.

"Yep," she agreed.

"Because you don't usually call on a weekday unless something is up? I mean, like before Jamin's bedtime."

She smiled at bit and brought her gloved hand up and rubbed at her eyebrow. As much as they all still had to work on, they all knew each other too well. They were her boys. Her kids. She was their mom.

"Well, I'm just walking back to work too and thought I'd like to talk," she tried. "That's all."

It was quiet for a moment. Almost too quiet but then she heard his pace pick up again. He must've been at an intersection.

"I saw that thing about the Amber Alert for that kid," he said.

"Oh yeah …" she offered.

"Yeah," Jack said. "So since it's a kid, that's you, right?"

"Mmm," she allowed. "It's boots to the ground for everyone when a child's missing."

"Com'on Olivia …" he groaned at her.

She thought about it for a moment. "Yes, sweetheart, I was involved in the case."

"You find the kid?" he asked.

"Mmm," she nodded. "Yes. Watch the news again when you get to work. Get the scoop from the mayor."

She actually thought it was good she'd declined to participate in the news conference. She hated being in front of the camera anyways. But it had been amplified since the boys were in her life. Jack snooped and then he worried. She had to remind herself, though, that if she hadn't done a news conference every once and a while, her boys might've never found their way home. That was how Jack had found her – or at least worked up the courage to really come and locate her.

"So the kid's OK then?" Jack asked.

Olivia didn't like that word. He wasn't OK. He was so far from OK – and Olivia wasn't convinced that they'd done anything to make anything any better for that poor little boy. They'd reunited him with his father. But she suspected it might only be a matter of time before they heard from that family again. Or ACS did. Part of her hoped that ACS was there the next morning. They better be. They better not skirt the situation and what had happened just because Tom's employer was the United Nations.

"The little boy was found alive," she provided.

There was quiet from Jack again. She knew he'd be processing it. That he'd be weighing it. And, that he'd likely be requesting that Gecko change the television to the news as soon as he got in the door at Funky's. Otherwise he'd be scouring the papers the next morning or browsing the news site on his downtime at the shop. Trying to figure out what had really gone on and what she wasn't telling him.

She sighed. "I really just wanted to say hi, sweetheart," she said. "And tell you that I love you."

"Because something happened?" Jack asked.

"No," Olivia said. "Just because I'm so glad you're both in my life. Even when you're driving me crazy."

Jack snorted at her. "We do that a lot."

"Daily," she agreed.

There was quiet again. "You don't have to call and say stuff like that, Mom," Jack said finally. "You say it like every weekend. It's, like, OK – I get it."

"Do you?"

"Yeah," Jack said. "I do. I love you too. Even though you drive me crazy."

Olivia rolled her eyes and looked up through the buildings to the muddled night sky. She allowed a small laugh.

Why would anyone give up on this? She thought and found a small star to offer a quiet prayer for Nicky.

"It's going to be OK," she said. She meant to say it to herself – to silently. A quiet assurance to an unseen child. A promise that she knew she couldn't keep for him but hoped that his father might be able too.

"It already is, Mom," Jack said.


	3. Baby Steps

**Title: Thursday's Child**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Jack and Benji have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: The case of a missing adopted boy rattles Olivia while she thinks of what her and her family have gone through and what they are still struggling with in their day-to-day. A short story recasting the final scenes of Wednesday's child in the AU of Olivia/Benji/Jack. **

**Author's Notes: So fans of the series asked for some O/S until I'm ready to start the sequel to Hello, Goodbye. I guess you're getting your wish. The timelines of this are a little flexible so as to not spoil some of what will be happening in the sequel. It's likely best to consider it separately from the sequel and to just assume it's happening basically in the present rather than fitting it neatly within the AU's timeline. **

**This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. Most of the chapters will ultimately take place outside of the work environment, so there aren't going to be too many references to cases from the show. Please let me know what you think and if you distribute elsewhere.**

Olivia stood at the door and waited until she heard the buzz and the click that indicated she'd been allowed to enter the precinct's daycare area. Sometimes she thought that the security was a little excessive. That she went through less to get into low security prisons that some rapists and child molesters they put away managed to wrangle their way into. Apparently putting more security around children made more sense than keeping these people locked far away. But most of the time, she appreciated all the precautions they took to ensure her son was safe. That he was protected from the sanity that paraded through their precinct in the floors below him and the other daycare children.

She gave the woman manning the entrance desk a small smile and a quiet 'hello' and flashed her ID badge even though she knew she likely didn't need to. She picked up her son every day. She was a familiar face. A known presence. She'd already identified herself and she badge number at the intercom to even get through the door. But it was protocol. It was a safety standard that she trusted other parents honored and one that she wanted honored too. So she showed it – just like everyone else should - before walking on and heading down the hall to the after-hours entrance and rooms.

It'd taken a bit longer to get through the paperwork associated with the charges they were bringing against Alexa and Roger than she thought. It'd meant that at least she'd missed the end of bankers' hours when other able detectives and white-shirts would be picking up their kids. But it did mean she'd be getting her little boy home later than she wanted and that the hallways of the daycare seemed like a bit of a ghost town. Though, not as much as sometimes. After all it was still only just past 6 p.m. That wasn't ungodly hours by any means. Benji had had to endure true after-hours care before. This really wasn't anything more than a late pick-up.

"Hi," Olivia greeted as she got into the main after-hours room and one of the caretakers was already at the door.

Someone else was just picking up their child too – and that suddenly made her let out a breath of relief that she wasn't the only one plagued with NYPD hours and trying to balance it with a home-life and child-rearing. It was one of the things she loved about the NYPD's daycare services. She never felt alone or judged or persecuted because she was trying to do the job and be a mother. The people around her understood and all the kids there were dealing with it in their own little ways too. That helped. So much. It was one of the ways she'd gotten help.

"Hi Olivia," the woman greeted far too cheerily for someone who worked for the NYPD, even if they were a third-party contractor for the daycare.

Olivia, though, wasn't really paying much attention at that point. Her eyes were already tracking to the room to find her little boy. There were still several children there. They were spread out through the room and most were playing in groups. Though she quickly scanned the small clusters of children, she knew her Little Fox's favorite spots in the room. Her eyes bounced from the Play-Doh table to the building blocks to play workshop table and tools to finally settle on the train set.

It gave her some halt to see him there – kneeling over the tracks as he adjusted an overpass bridge to his liking and readied his locomotive to haul the wooden cars onward. She'd seen the trains at the Moores' home. She'd jotted in her notebook that Nicky was wearing blue pajamas printed with trains. That the little boy loved the subway because of his association with watching the trains. Olivia thought all little boys loved the subway. She knew hers did. But she'd briefly thought of how Benji could stand at a construction site for an eternity if she let him – watching the machines and the workmen. How he'd happily force them to loiter around the entrance of any fire station they passed in hopes they'd get a glimpse at the fire truck. How he still yanked her arm so hard while they were out walking and he saw any of the vehicles that were Rescue Bots. Police cruisers, fire trucks, bulldozers, ambulances, helicopters, Mack trucks and yellow sports cars. He could gaze at them like they were the most fascinating things in the world and like he just knew all their secrets. That if he stared at them along enough, he'd learn even more of them.

Olivia had seen the toys scattered in the Moores' house too. She knew and understood the disarray. The dinosaurs on the countertop watching you make meals. The trains and Hot Wheels and Transformers all over the floor and the couch – just waiting to be stepped on or sat on. The bed that didn't always get made and the stuffies that overtook the bedding and the bedside table. The books toppled on the shelves and left piled waiting to be read in an endless effort to get the child to fall asleep. The hooks at the front door with jackets barely hanging on them and boots scattered on the floor rather than put away in the closet.

Olivia hadn't judged then. She knew her apartment wasn't as well-kept as it should be. She knew what it was like to have a wild little boy at home. She knew that there were more nights than not that by the time she got home and got to Benji to bed, she just wanted to sit on the couch or just had to work on work files, that things like tidying up got put aside. She'd order Benji to do it in the morning. Or she'd get around to a massive cleaning on the weekend. Not that there really was ever much point in either. As soon as anything was tidied or cleaned, the toys were dragged out and the mess started again almost immediately after. That was just having kids. The house looked lived in. Not a disaster. She hadn't taken it as a commentary on the mother. Maybe she should've.

Would it be any better there now for Nicky? Would he be able to go home to his toys and his trains and the routine that he clearly wanted and needed to thrive so badly. A routine that either bored Lisa or that she wasn't ready to handle? A routine that was too badly disrupted by his father's job? Traumatized children, adopted children – all children really, she thought – needed their routines so badly. They needed that stability amid the chaos. How did the Moores not know that?

Benji seemed so transfixed in his little routine at the moment. Olivia knew how he played trains. He nearly always built the same Figure 8 track with the Y-split that allowed him to make his second overpass bridge and use the dead-end blocker. His train always used the same engine – with the bright red wheels. His cars always the same colors and in the same order: green, yellow, blue, red. That was the right way. Any other way was just wrong.

Benji hadn't been disinterested in trains before. But Rescue Bots and Fireman Sam and Ninja Turtles usually took priority. She'd still had to endure Thomas the Tank Engine and Dinosaur Train, it just hadn't taken a fever pitch until the fall. It'd been one of those weekends that she'd needed to ask for help. Really what she'd needed was a break and Alex had come and retrieved Benji for her and had taken him away for the day, which apparently included a Day Out With Thomas.

Benji's excitement about getting to ride a train pulled by the little blue engine had been staggering. Alex had had to apologize that rather than bringing him back to her worn out, he'd been off the walls he was so bursting in wanting to tell her about the day. It'd made Olivia almost regret she'd taken one of the near non-existent days anymore that was quiet and kid-less. She'd missed getting to share that experience with her little boy and to watch how he'd interacted with it. To see his amazement. But Alex had.

Alex had smiled when she finally got her chance to recount the day. But she'd also offered the observation that Benji had seemed a little old for the outing. That most of the children hanging out with Thomas and Mr. Conductor seemed to still be in diapers. But not her Little Fox. It was just another moment that drove home the small glimpse of areas he was just slightly behind in. It wasn't horrifying for a five-year-old to still like Thomas, at all. It was just that he was a little delayed. Delayed in being introduced to things. Delayed in his interests. Delayed in his learning. Delayed in his social interactions. Delayed in making friends.

And that again made her think of poor Nicky, who she knew would be haunting her for quite a while, as she watched her little boy play across the room. He was facing her direction and she saw his eyes glance at the movement by the door. So she lifted her hand and offered him a small wave and a little smile. She knew on his good days that was enough. He'd be off to her like a shot and ready to tell her everything about his day. He'd be buzzing with energy and bubbling over in his excitement to tell her what he'd learned and what he'd done and to sing and rhythm and to get home for dinner and play and bath and story. But that wasn't the reaction she got that night.

Benji's glance met hers for just seconds before his eyes drifted back to his project and he tried to ignore her. He tried to pretend like finishing his route on track was more important than her being there. Than getting to go home. And sometimes it was. Sometimes her Little Fox was in the middle of very important little boy work when she arrived to pick him up from daycare. Sometimes she couldn't pull him away from his craft or his trains or whatever game he was in the midsts of with one of the other little boys or girls. But on those days it was still usually accompanied with a shriek of joy at her arrival. An invitation for her to come and join him in his imagined adventure – whatever it may be.

With that not coming, though, she let out a small sigh and forced herself to give the daycare worker a thin smile.

"How's he doing?" she asked.

The woman gave her a knowing smile. This was routine for them. Too routine. Her routine.

Olivia knew that the workers at this daycare liked her little boy. Not just that but they were working with her to ensure that her little boy got all the care and encouragement he needed to thrive. But that didn't change the reality that he was challenging. That he often needed extra attention. Some days more than the staff could provide.

"He had a bit of a rough day," the woman said.

Olivia nodded in acknowledgement, though her eyes were still on her little boy. He knew he was being talked about. He likely also knew that he'd likely done something that could be perceived as 'wrong'. That was why he was keeping a cautious distance. As much as he knew that he never really got in trouble – even though he was disciplined – after what he'd been through as a toddler, he still lived in fear of being screamed at, threatened, punished … or worse.

"He had a bit of an incident in class by the sounds of it. There's a note from his teacher in his backpack," the worker said.

Olivia glanced at her at that and allowed another thinner smile and a small nod. Some days she wished he'd had an extra year in the pre-kindergarten and the preschool program before he'd been tossed into kindergarten. As ready as she and the daycare staff had tried to make him – Benji just wasn't ready. Not for all the social aspects of it. Even on his good days, it was a struggle for him. He missed his safe little group of preschool classmates – and so did Olivia. It was why she'd foregone the after-school program and had dealt with the time and the expense of having to truck him from school back to the precinct daycare every day. So he could have this. The safety net and the routine he liked and was used to. People who supported him and the foundation of people who he was beginning to know and attach himself to.

"But this afternoon, he and Bryson had a bit of a spat," the woman said. "Benji wasn't playing very well with others after that. So we had to encourage him to go and play independently for the rest of the day. He wasn't too upset by that. He really didn't want to play with anyone but Bryson."

Olivia let out a small sigh and a little nod but she felt her face fall and her heart sink. Benji had her. He had her support and he had the support of the staff at the daycare. A staff that tried to make his social interactions easier for him when they could. Yet, he still struggled so much. He was so insecure and so confused about how to deal with people and how the world they lived in and friendships worked. And she'd been really trying to work on all of those with him. To encourage him and to give him opportunities to grow and develop. But in the absence of what he knew, he'd crawl so far way from others and retreat so far into himself. Sometimes it still felt like he couldn't function without her. That he didn't know how. That he just couldn't - even as much as he could. And, that scared her. That night, though, it didn't just scare her for Benji; it scared her for Nicky. Because she knew he didn't have the same support as her small son.

The look on her face must've been more telling than she wanted it to be, though. The emotions of the day and the case were just playing too heavily on her. She was tired and her sadness and angers and fears were seeping through the tough exterior that she tried to put up but really never felt so tough anymore. It was hard to be as tough when your heart know was outside of you – in the form of a child and every scrape, bruise and pain they experienced riveted through you. Lisa hadn't let Nicky become her heart yet. Olivia thought it likely – clearly – meant she was heartless at the moment.

"It's OK, Olivia," the woman offered. "He's doing fine. We really like having Benji here."

She gave the woman another small smile for that effort. "He really likes being here," she said. Sometimes she was still afraid that the daycare would say he was too much of a handful for them to handle with their limited staffing. But her face must've said that too.

"We're committed to working with him," the woman assured. "He really is doing very well. He ate his cantaloupe today at snack without any fuss."

Olivia offered a small laugh at that. Getting Benji to eat fruit he didn't like was usually a losing battle. So at least there was a positive that day. Some days it was all about the small steps and the little accomplishments.

"And, I talked to Ruben when he picked up Bryson about what happened. He said they'd have a little talk with him too."

Olivia nodded. "Thank you," she said.

But her mind again really thought of Lisa. She thought of how ridiculous it was that Bryson's young parents – barely in their 30s – understood the needs of a traumatized little boy more than a middle aged woman. That they understood Benji had challenges. That they'd stepped up and helped her cultivate a friendship for her little boy with their little boy even though it didn't always go smoothly. That they could see and understand that Benji wasn't like all the other kids. That he needed some special consideration. But Lisa couldn't see that – couldn't understand and accommodate that in productive ways – in her son. That she had excuses rather than action.

Her eyes found Benji again. "Little Fox," she called. "Put that way, please. It's time to go home."

The daycare worker again shook her head and gave her a sympathetic look. Sometimes Olivia felt like the women who worked in the daycare center knew more about what was happening in the precinct and the city, about what cases all the parents were working on and preoccupied with, and how that workload was affecting them and who just needed a break than sometimes the parents even were prepared to admit themselves. She was sure that the woman was attuned to the fact she'd been working on the child abduction as Jack had been. But there would've been other parents in the daycare who would've had boots to ground that week too.

"It's OK," she said and waved over at Benji. "Com'on Ben. I'll put it away for you tonight."

Benji looked up and seemed to consider that for a moment before getting up from the floor and trotting over. At least his gait seemed almost happy.

"What do you say, Benj?" Olivia encouraged.

"Tank you," he said quietly.

Olivia gave him a gently smile and brushed at his hair before giving him a small tap on his lower back to send him off and out the door to find his coat. She gave the woman a smile of her own.

"Thank you," she provided too.

The woman just nodded. "We'll see you tomorrow?"

Olivia returned the little movement of her head. "We'll be here," she said.

"Brand new day," the woman said encouragingly. Olivia thought she might need it. But she just offered her another thin smile and stepped outside to find Benji at his hook. He'd managed to get his boots sort of on in short order but was struggling with the zipper on his coat. Fine motor skills. Not always his strong point.

Olivia gave him another weak smile and walked over and crouched down.

"Let me help, Benj," she said. She knew that she needed to continue to encourage him to develop those skills and skill sets on his own. But that night – she just couldn't. She couldn't watch her child struggle and standby. There'd be other days – other nights – to give him lessons in independence and normal childhood development.

She gave him a smile as her hands did the work for him, pulling the zipper up and then quickly down.

"My zipper zips up. My zipper zips down. I like to wear this coat 'round town," she told him in one of the many preschool sing-songs she'd spent the past year learning. He gave he a little smile and giggle as she made the movements and she grinned at him and leaned forward to grab his scarf off the hook too.

She wasn't looking at him. She was weighing in her head how she was going to get him home. It was so cold out and now it was dark. It would be too long of walk that night for both of them. She wondered how quickly she could hustle him to and from the subway or how crowded the cross-town bus would be with the cold and the time – and how long the wait would be. Maybe she should just find them a cab that night. Bite the bullet. Get her little boy safe and warm so they could just have a quiet night together.

As she weighed the options, she reached and looped the scarf around his neck, tightening up and pulling his beanie further down his nears until he near disappeared in the bundling. But as she did it, he suddenly collapsed against her and his lips smacked not quite against her cheek, catching just the corner of her mouth with a loud and prolong "Mmmmmmmmmmmaaaaaaaawww!" smack of a kiss. He finally pushed back from her slightly, his little hands still pressed against her shoulders and looking at her proudly.

Olivia couldn't help but smile. Though, she was fighting the urge to reach up and wipe away all the little boy slobber he'd left on her face. It was just the kind of kiss a Mommy wanted. She thought it was likely just the kind of kiss she needed right then too.

"What was that for, Benj?" she glowed at him.

She saw the little shrug that he'd so clearly learned from his uncle and that she so wished she could erase from him because she knew how annoying it would become as he aged and hit his pre-teens and teens and it became a staple of their everyday life and conversation. But for now it was so cute in his little boy indifference.

"Cuz you pretty, Mommy," he said.

Olivia felt her smile pull more at her mouth. There was something about your son telling you you were pretty. For some reason it seemed to mean so much more than when she'd heard the sideways compliments from men and dates in the past. The comments that always came with the undertones that they were expecting some sort of award for having managed to utter them. But Benji didn't have any ulterior motives. He meant it. Yet, at the same time, Olivia couldn't imagine how she could look very pretty at the moment. Not after the kind of day she had. Not with how exhausted she was. Not with what she was wearing or how she was feeling. But in the eyes of her little boy – she was.

"Thank you, Little Fox," she said and leaned forward and put a peck on his cheek too. "And you're very handsome too."

He puckered at her at the comment and his little hands gripped at her shoulders more restlessly and she watched his face become more serious. That seriousness that betrayed the things he'd endured in his short life. The burdens he dealt with that no little boy should. The things he understood that he shouldn't understand. And the things he couldn't understand that he should've never have had to even try. His inter struggles to fit in and to be normal and to be a 'good' boy. That hurt that pained Olivia – because it was so clearly paining her heart.

"Mommy, I sorry," Benji said so seriously. "Don't be mad."

Olivia's heart ached more and she pulled him to her, pressing a longer and firmer kiss against his temple as his head came to rest on her shoulder.

"You don't need to be sorry, Little Fox. Mommy isn't mad," she assured.

"I be gooder next time. I be gooder tomorrow," he mumbled against her. And, she wondered if Nicky felt like he needed to offer the same apologies for things he held no blame.

"Shh, shh," she said and rubbed at his back through the thick layers of his winter clothes. "Everything is OK. We are going to go home and have dinner and play – and have a good night together. Just Mommy Fox and Little Fox. OK, Benj? I love you. Everything is fine. You're a good boy. Tomorrow's a new day."


	4. Best Friends

**Title: Thursday's Child**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Jack and Benji have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: The case of a missing adopted boy rattles Olivia while she thinks of what her and her family have gone through and what they are still struggling with in their day-to-day. A short story recasting the final scenes of Wednesday's child in the AU of Olivia/Benji/Jack. **

**Author's Notes: So fans of the series asked for some O/S until I'm ready to start the sequel to Hello, Goodbye. I guess you're getting your wish. The timelines of this are a little flexible so as to not spoil some of what will be happening in the sequel. It's likely best to consider it separately from the sequel and to just assume it's happening basically in the present rather than fitting it neatly within the AU's timeline. **

**This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. Most of the chapters will ultimately take place outside of the work environment, so there aren't going to be too many references to cases from the show. Please let me know what you think and if you distribute elsewhere.**

Olivia looked up from her Lego Monster Truck creation and to where her Little Fox was still fiddling with his own.

"I think mine is ready to go down the ramp, Benj," she said.

He glanced at her and got up on his knees to examine her creation and then looked back to jamming a couple more blocks on his.

"Mine faster," he said.

"Mmm," she allowed. "We'll have to race them and see."

"Mine have jet pack turbos," he added.

"Oh," Olivia nodded. "Mine definitely doesn't have that." She looked back at the pile of blocks and picked another brick. "I'll add an extra engine," she said. "Maybe that will help."

"I still win," Benji said.

"Well, we have to race them before we know who wins," Olivia pressed.

He glanced at her and gave her a bit of a squint eye.

He'd been like that since they got home. Suspicious of her. He was likely waiting for her to read the note in his backpack (she already had), and either give him a timeout or a chore or a lecture. But she hadn't. She wasn't going to. His teacher's commentary from his kindergarten class was the usual. Benji had difficulty concentrating and was easily distracted. That day he'd become fascinated with the kids winter gear and had ended up wandering away from the group and going to sit among the wet boots and mittens instead. Olivia would deal with talking to him about that in the morning when she got him dressed to go to school and when she was dropping him off. As for his concentration … that was an ongoing effort.

Benji concentrated when he wanted to concentrate. She thought that was true for most kids – and adults, for that matter. Sometimes she really didn't see it. Because at home when Benji had his choice of things to do – he picked things he liked to do and wanted to do. He could spend an endless amount of time with his Hot Wheels and Rescue Bots and set up with a craft or coloring he wanted to do in the dining room. But that was different than school – when there were things that just had to be done. Concentration and focus that had to be had. Olivia knew he needed work on that. It appeared whenever there was a chore he didn't want to do or an outing he was bored with. When he was tired or grouchy. But she could work through it with him most of the time. But she was a parent with an only child who could get her undivided attention. She understood that wasn't the reality of the classroom. But she just didn't see the point of the teacher using the boot incident as yet another occasion to bring to her attention that her son's attention drifted and with it, so did he.

It made her think of Lisa again, though. She knew this case would be haunting her for a while. Not for the usual reasons, yet for all the same reasons too. It'd just hit too close to home in too many ways, yet it hadn't. Lisa had said that Nicky didn't concentrate very well so she homeschooled him but that she was still struggling to get him to learn and listen and focus. Olivia was never sure that homeschooling was the right choice – for so many reasons. The safety net it was supposed to provide children. Those extra eyes and support foundation of adults supposedly looking out for the child. Would this had even happened if Nicky had been in public school? The administration would've seen that he was struggling? That Lisa was struggling? That the family needed extra help? They would've reached out?

Or maybe just felt that way because she was part of the system that was supposed to help people and children. Maybe she felt that way because of her own baptism by fire when she'd tried Benji in the nursery school that hadn't worked out. Maybe she felt that way because she'd known for the get-go that she had to be an advocate for her child. No one else would be. She asked for help with him. She asked for special consideration for him. And, she put in the time – with him and the teachers and the daycare staff and the administration at both – to make sure she was playing an active role in ensuring he got all the support and attention he needed. Even then sometimes it just didn't feel like enough. She knew she was a thorn in the teachers' sides. She knew that sometimes she was as frustrated with Benji's progress and behavior as they were. But at least she knew he was getting support and help. That she was helping to lay the foundation for him to function in society and to have a safety net and a social network and friends.

Nicky was missing all of that with being home. He was alone – and Lisa had made herself feel very alone by trying to deal with it all on her own too. By convincing herself that her child had too many special needs or was too much trouble or too demanding or too easily distracted or too difficult to function in the public school system. Olivia thought the woman had done both of them a disservice by believing that. A disservice that was now going to have long-lasting implications that really might be showing up in Nicky's behavior, socialization and learning.

But Olivia wasn't going to tackle another pep talk to Benji that night about his concentration. Part of parenting was about knowing when to time the talks. She'd learned that more with Jack than with Benji. But she was definitely applying it more and more to Benji. Giving him all sorts of reminders that night was just going to wind him up and overwhelm him when he was already struggling. She'd talk to him on their walk to school in the morning. Give him another reminder about his behavior at school. Right now, she was more concerned about what had happened back at the daycare after school.

"Did you and Bryson make race cars today, Benj?" she asked.

He squinted at her more and rather than responding crawled over to the ramp that he'd made on the weekend with Jack. It'd survived the whole week. Likely because Jack had managed to make the thing so it had a near 90-degree angle. It wasn't that

great for racing cars down as far as Olivia was concerned. But Benji liked that his Hot Wheels clattered down it and went skidding on their roofs across the floor. They'd apparently advanced to racing Lego cars down it now. Olivia already knew that after each attempt they were likely going to have to rebuild the cars. It likely meant the game was going to go on for a while – or he'd get frustrated or bored with it and want to stop.

"My car ready," he said.

She just nodded and shuttled over on her butt to sit closer to the ramp too. She only managed to jam her hand against two Hot Wheels, a plastic dinosaur, a army man that she was pretty sure she heard crack, and about a fistful of more Lego in the process. She'd definitely been letting Benji be lax about picking up his toys at before bathtime that week.

"We going to race them down together?" she asked, as she tried to position her car at the top of the ramp with his. It was a tight fit. She'd claimed a set of the monster truck wheels.

"Your car too fat, Mommy," he said and rolled his wheels back-and-forth hitting against her vehicle.

"OK," she agreed. "Then how do you want to race, Benj?"

"You need race car wheels," he told her sternly.

But she met her eyes and shook her head. "No. I made a monster truck, Benj. My car has truck wheels."

He gave her another squint but then sat up higher on his knees and adjusted his car.

"Turbo cars faster than monster trucks," he said.

She shrugged. "I guess we have to race them to find out."

He looked at her and thought about that.

"You want me to say ready, set, go?" she suggested.

He puckered but then nodded.

"OK," Olivia agreed. "So when I say 'go', we both push our cars. OK?"

"YES!" Benji said. "But do not cheat. Peedg cheats."

Olivia rolled her eyes. Jack had a lot to gain by cheating at Lego race cars, she was sure. Though, Benji accusing his brother of cheating when when he wasn't there was about par for the course. She'd thought that the tub of Lego at Christmas would've been a good idea for both of the boys. But the little blocks had created a ridiculous number of fights between her sons – considering that one of them was now 20. There were coveted pieces and wheels and mini figures that she'd literally had to host negotiations over. Or argue about the how the schematics of calling dibs on a Lego piece worked. Or take away from them and hide them in a drawer in her bedroom. "NO ONE GETS THIS PIECE!" had become a regular declaration on weekends over the past month or so. She felt ridiculous. Boys were ridiculous. Parenting was ridiculous. She now was responsible for managing Lego blocks among everything else.

"I will not cheat," she said a little defensively. "I'm going to say it now. OK? Ready … set … go!"

She gave her car a small nudge while Benji whacked his so hard that she didn't think it's wheels even hit the plastic ramp until it was more than half way down and well passed the 90-degree drop at the top. Gravity was working more in his favorite than the momentum she'd thought she'd have in hers. Though his whoop had also meant his car had eventually met the track on its side rather than its wheels and slide down the rest of the course – effectively blocking the way of her truck.

"I WIN!" Benji declared and snatched his car again from the ground. It was definitely in need of some maintenance now.

Olivia just shook her head. "I think you cheated, Benj," she said.

He glared at her. "I not cheat!" he protested.

"You turbo car jumped over half the track," she told him.

"That because it have jet pack turbos, Mommy. I told you they faster," he stated very matter-of-factly and flopped his butt back on the floor again to work at rebuilding and adding to his car. She picked up hers and took a look at it to decide what she could do to try to beat him on the next round. Short of giving her car wings, she doubted she could – and she was fairly sure a flying car would be deemed cheating.

"Bison don't like jet pack turbos too," Benji said quietly as they worked at revamping their cars for the next race.

Olivia looked over at her little boy. He wasn't looking at her and he'd said it so quietly she wasn't sure he wanted her to react or respond. But she did.

"Why not?" she asked, as she pulled apart pieces of her car. Since she'd figured out a reasonable build, she was just going to redo the thing with green blocks this time. Say it had ninja turtle power or something to appease Benji of her ingenuity.

"He say it cheating too," Benji said.

"Hmm," she allowed. "Is that why you and Bryson were having trouble playing together at daycare today, Little Fox?"

Benji looked up at her with sad eyes. "No," he said quietly. "Bison say it don't want to play race cars today."

"Oh," Olivia allowed. "Because he doesn't like playing race cars with jet pack turbos?"

"He say Ant-tin-y play race cars gooder. He say I don't know how to play right."

"Hmm," she nodded. "So Bryson and Anthony didn't want to play with you?"

"They say I could play but not with jet pack turbos," Benji said and added a clear block as a windshield to his car this time.

"But you didn't want to play if you couldn't race with jet pack turbos?"

"I did not want to play with Ant-tin-y!" Benji said and shot her a look. "I play with Bison. Not Ant-tin-y."

"Can't you play with Bryson and Anthony?" she suggested.

"No," Benji said firmly. "I play with Bison. Not Ant-tin-y."

"So since Bryson wanted to play with other kids today, you didn't want to play with anyone? There's lots of other fun kids in daycare."

"No," Benji said. "I play with Bison."

Olivia sighed and put down her blocks and scooted closer to him and stilled his hands until he looked at her.

"Little Fox," she said, "I know Bryson is your best friend. But it's important to play with other kids and to have other friends too. I know there's lots of other kids in kindergarten and in daycare who are lots of fun and would really like to play with you too. I think Anthony would like to play with you and with Bryson. Then the three of you could play together. That'd be lots of fun."

"Bryson not best friend," Benji said firmly.

Olivia gave him a look. Bryson was definitely his best friend. They had playdates at least once a month. They'd been at birthday parties. They are almost always playing together at daycare. It was a nurtured friendship. It was about the closest thing Benji had to friendship. She thought it had the makings of being a real one that she could help him sustain through at least part of his childhood.

"I think Bryson thinks of you as his best friend," she tried. She really hoped that was true. Though, she knew it was harder now that the boys were in different kindergarten classes. She knew that they'd start to drift. She had just hoped it wouldn't be this soon.

"He does not play best," Benji said firmly.

Olivia sighed. No one would play to Benji's standards. He was bossy and controlling. There was a right way and a wrong way. There were rules that took forever to learn. It was one of the challenges in getting him to make any friends. Even small children his age had trouble relating to him.

"He play wrong," Benji said. "You play right Mommy. You play gooder. You the best friend."


	5. Chocolate Therapy

**Title: Thursday's Child**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Jack and Benji have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: The case of a missing adopted boy rattles Olivia while she thinks of what her and her family have gone through and what they are still struggling with in their day-to-day. A short story recasting the final scenes of Wednesday's child in the AU of Olivia/Benji/Jack. **

**Author's Notes: So fans of the series asked for some O/S until I'm ready to start the sequel to Hello, Goodbye. I guess you're getting your wish. The timelines of this are a little flexible so as to not spoil some of what will be happening in the sequel. It's likely best to consider it separately from the sequel and to just assume it's happening basically in the present rather than fitting it neatly within the AU's timeline. **

**This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. Most of the chapters will ultimately take place outside of the work environment, so there aren't going to be too many references to cases from the show. Please let me know what you think and if you distribute elsewhere.**

"Hey you," Olivia greeted as she answered the phone. Actually her phone ringing made her realize just where in the night they were at. Jack was actually calling a little late – at a time she should have Benji in bed and at least be being a story. With the way the evening was going she hadn't even gotten him in the tub yet. But that really was just the kind of day it'd been. Benji needed about as much attention and comfort that night as maybe she needed to to get her to wind down from the Moores' case. So she wasn't rushing that night. She was just working through. She was taking the time. They both needed it.

"Yo," Jack said drily. "Sup?"

He was clearly still at work talking like that. The fake skater talk to hide the honors student that he was. Jack still wore his disguises too. Though, he was become more comfortable in who he was. He was realizing he wasn't just a skater. That that didn't have to be his identity. He was a son, a brother, a uncle, a college student, a scholarship student. She was careful not to tell him he was an architecture student anymore. They both understood now that architecture had just been his ticket out of Horseheads. Now that he had the security and the stability of a family and a home life, it was up to him to decide if an architect was still what he really wanted to be. What he wanted to do with his life. Or if his undergrad work would just be a foundation that would lead him to other things. She tried not to pressure him either way. Though, she certainly had her opinions on what he should be doing with what was left with his undergrad work.

"Benji and I are doing some Chocolate Therapy," she put to him. There was quiet on the other end of the line. "We're eating ice cream," she clarified. There was more silence. "It's the name of the flavor."

More silence before almost accusingly, Jack spat back at her, "You're eating ice cream? It's Thursday. Night!"

She just snorted. There might've been other nights she took it as a commentary on her parenting. One annoying part of having an older adopted son – Jack didn't pull punches about letting her know when she was doing something differently than his father had done for him. But they'd both thankfully reached the conclusion that she was not his father and she would be raising her son the way she thought best. If that meant her and her little boy wanted to eat ice cream on a night of a week where both her and her little boy had had a complete shit-ass day, they were going to eat ice cream.

But she knew that wasn't what Jack meant that night. He wasn't scolding her. He was again illustrating to her just how routined her boys were and how much they needed and thrived on it.

"Since when is there sweets allowed on a Thursday?" he demanded. She could feel it coming before it even exited his mouth.

She didn't usually let the boys have sweets during the week. As much as she could control that with Jack. Though, she certainly lectured him on not eating too much sugar and the importance of maintaining a healthy diet for both his body and mind. But that didn't mean her boys were denied treats. It was just that they'd become yet another one of their regimented routines. If they were going to have take-out – chances where it was going to be Friday night. If they were going to eat out – it would be Saturday. She wouldn't scoff at them requesting a treat if they were out together on a weekend either. They got pancakes and syrup for breakfast every Saturday morning, if they requested it. Benji got a hot chocolate and usually a rice crispy square (really, he could ask for whatever he wanted but a rice crispy treat was what he knew now and it was all he ever wanted and expected) as her and him walked home from the library on Sunday morning. The boys got a bowl of popcorn and a pack of mini M&Ms to eat while they watched their movie on Sunday afternoon. And, Jack got to pick a dessert for them to have after their dinner the same day. Unless there was a party or special treat at school, that was all Benji usually got. Occasionally they'd make cookies together or she'd offer him something else when they were out because she was hungry or thirsty and needed to stop for herself. But they'd carved out a weekend routine.

Though it was when they both got the bulk of the junk food and sugar that she allowed them – it wasn't really about that. It was about the boys liking their schedules. They didn't just like them. They needed them. They both thrived better when they knew where they'd be and what they'd be doing. It worked even better when they learned to expect it. So their weekends were structured. A sudden detour in the structure could throw either of them off.

She'd seen Benji's skepticism too when she'd offered up a scoop of ice cream.

"There'd ouce cream, Mommy? There not ouce cream."

She'd nodded. "There's ice cream – and Mommy is going to have a scoop. Do you want one?" she'd offered again.

Another reality – she kept a Ben and Jerry's hidden in the corner at the back of the freezer. Because if Jack knew it was there, it wouldn't survive a weekend. But sometimes she just needed something. Not that that was a diet or food habit she needed to teach to them.

But reaching for a glass of wine to help her unwind after an awful case or day at the office really wasn't much of an option anymore. Jack cringed that she even had alcohol in the apartment. He would get outright squirrely if they had company for Sunday dinner and she opened a bottle or Brian joined them for pizza on a Friday night and brought some beers. About the only time she could seem to get away with having a glass was if they were out for dinner at a restaurant – and that happened so irregularly anymore. She knew he associated a lot of negative memories with alcohol and she could relate. Though, she wished she could help him reach a place that he was a bit more comfortable around alcohol being enjoyed in moderation. She knew he'd be even more horrified to know that she'd gone through a couple bottles on her own since she'd taken over commanding the squad. But some nights she just needed more than a glass of tea to wind down anymore. If tea didn't work, she had a bar of dark chocolate hidden away in a top cupboard that she suspected even if Jack found, he likely wouldn't eat. And, if that kind of chocolate therapy wasn't enough – there was the ice cream. Though, she wasn't sure what would be worse for her in the end: wine or ice cream?

"You do what you want during the week," she said to him, "and I'll do what I want."

"Things must be really bad if you're eating ice cream on a Thursday," Jack said.

"It's been a long week, sweetheart," she said.

He was quiet for a moment and seemed to think about that again. She knew at that point he likely would've watched the news and surfed the news sites. He'd be up to speed about what happened. Or at least informed of the media and mayor's office's version of what had happened. For what that was worth.

"Do you want me to come home after work?" he asked with a cautiousness.

She smiled into the phone at that offer. He could be such a worrywart when it came to her and Benji – but it was endearing. Even though sometimes it was hard for it to be endearing because she knew it routed out of his own insecurities in so many ways. His fears that he might lose his family again. She'd likely spend until her dying breath assuring him that she wasn't going anywhere and neither was his now little brother. They were all safe and happy. She'd so badly wanted to offer Nicky the same assurances that day. She knew that his father was there in the hospital room offering him sideways ones. That Lisa would go in and offer him empty ones that it was going to 'be different'. He needed more than that. He needed real promises backed up by concrete action. He needed a family. A real one that offered him the stability and security and routines and schedules and structure that he wanted and needed so badly. He needed the love that came with that. The 'we're all in this together' mentality it created.

"It's OK, sweetheart," she told Jack. "We'll see you tomorrow."

"Because I could come and do bedtime with Jamin for you since he's still up?" Jack suggested.

She smiled a little more and looked at her little boy. He was loving his little scoop of ice cream. He was doing a good job at making it last. Likely because he was being so awkward with his spoon. But he was also doing a good job at getting himself ready for the already necessary bath. It looked like most of the scoop of the ice cream was being smeared in a melted mess all over his chin.

"Thank you for the offer, Jack. But it's OK," she said again. "I've got it. We're going to be all ready for a bath after we're done our ice cream. Right Little Fox?"

He nodded with the spoon in his mouth and managed to pull it up to his chin and smear even more of the chocolate there. She just smiled at it, though. Wiping your child's face off didn't have to be a big deal. It didn't have to be a chore. It meant you had a child in your life. That counted for so much.

"Jack, I'm going to hand you off to Benji so you can say goodnight," she told him.

"'Kay," he muttered in her ear. He still sounded like he wasn't quite sure what to make of them but she wasn't going to flog the matter with him. If she did he was more likely to think that whatever was going on was a big deal. And, it wasn't. She just needed time to come down from the case. Hearing from her boys and spending time with her boys was proving to be enough to help her start to move passed it. Slowly.

"You're on speaker," she warned, just in case, and put the phone in the middle of the table so Benji wouldn't touch it with his sticky fingers and messy face. "Don't touch, Benj. Just talk."

"WE EATING OUCE CREAM, PEEDG!" Benji yelled.

Olivia sighed. Her boys were so similar. Jack thought he had to yell across the city if he was outside on the phone. Benji thought he did if the phone wasn't at his ear. Even when it was he seemed to think it was a yelling match really.

"Peedg can hear you," Olivia reminded. "You don't need to yell."

"Why are you having ice cream on a Thursday?" Jack teased. "I think you're breaking the rules."

"I not," Benji said. "Mommy say it allowed. Mommy say some time everybody need ouce cream. That some time it make things gooder."

She heard Jack allowed a small laugh at that, though she could feel his eyes roll. "Yeah? It makes things gooder, huh? Then you better save some of that ice cream for me."

"We will," Benji said.

What Olivia thought was that her gig with the hidden ice cream was now up. Jack would find it in the freezer and it would make a good Friday night or Saturday night Xbox snack.

"So it working?" Jack asked.

Benji nodded hard and smeared more across his face. "It working. Right Mommy?" he asked and looked at her with those big questioning eyes that always looked to her for such confirmation and assurance. Those eyes that were still all for her in so many ways.

She gave him a little smile and returned a nod. "It's gooder," she said.

It had been gooder since the day Jack had walked into the precinct. It only got better on the day her eyes first fell on her little boy in that skate park and he stole her heart.

"It's definitely gooder," she said.


	6. Never Let You Go

**Title: Thursday's Child**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Jack and Benji have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: The case of a missing adopted boy rattles Olivia while she thinks of what her and her family have gone through and what they are still struggling with in their day-to-day. A short story recasting the final scenes of Wednesday's child in the AU of Olivia/Benji/Jack. **

**Author's Notes: So fans of the series asked for some O/S until I'm ready to start the sequel to Hello, Goodbye. I guess you're getting your wish. The timelines of this are a little flexible so as to not spoil some of what will be happening in the sequel. It's likely best to consider it separately from the sequel and to just assume it's happening basically in the present rather than fitting it neatly within the AU's timeline. **

**This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. Most of the chapters will ultimately take place outside of the work environment, so there aren't going to be too many references to cases from the show. Please let me know what you think and if you distribute elsewhere.**

There was a movement against her and Olivia startled awake. It took her a moment to realize she was sitting up and there wasn't just a stirring against her – it was a weight. She looked down and saw her little boy's eyes glinting at her through the dark – the only light casting against him coming from the television screen.

"You went to sleep, Mommy," he told her.

She gave him a small smile and a little nod before allowing her cheek to come down and rest against the top of his soft hair.

"I did," she agreed. "I'm sorry, baby. Mommy's really tired."

It'd been a long night. Too long. It had taken three storybooks before she thought Benji might actually stay in his bed. She thought he'd been starting to drift off. But he was already peaking around the corner at her when she'd barely left the room and unloaded some of her work files to sit with her and a tea on the couch while she pretended that actually somehow resembled unwinding if she had the television on.

Some nights – other nights – she knew she wouldn't have left him set foot in the living room after bedtime. She would've taken his hand and guided him back to his bed and she would've tried again to get him to drift off. Some nights – other nights – she would've even been sterner with him. Ordering him back to bed. Going and standing at the door and watching him get back in. Reminding him that it was past his bedtime and he was to go to sleep. Pulling his door shut until it was just open the obligatory crack that he needed to appease him it wasn't actually a closed door – because he couldn't stand those. But she really couldn't bring herself to do any of that that night. So she'd flagged him over and let him crawl into her lap. She could feel the heaviness of him as he settled. She thought he really was near sleep and she'd be able to rock him off given a few minutes. So she'd began the gentle motions and rubbing of his back while he cuddled into her. His eyes already drifting back shut. But apparently it had been her who'd actually fallen asleep in the quiet of the near muted mutterings of the television, as she switched the end table's light off.

It was likely better that way. Though, she felt a twinge of guilt about it now that her little boy was looking up at her with those still so awake eyes. But the last thing she remembered before she drifted off was that she'd been taking inventory of the Moores' case and her own daily life. Again.

Olivia had been thinking about how there were parts of her now that took certain aspects of motherhood for granted. Part of her that had become just so used to Benji being there and being her son and them having settled into a routine. Their family was so boring in so many ways. The boys both needed so much structure and routine for that sense of stability – and beyond the necessity to have rules and chores, she'd definitely provided that structure and routine they wanted and needed. It was too the point that they reached predictability in the extreme. Jack's ice cream reaction had been another clear reminder of that.

She thought about how sometimes their routine bored her. How sometimes it frustrated her. How other times she was able to operate through it on auto-pilot so much anymore that she might as well be some sort of automated robot.

It'd been a slow night that night. But Olivia thought about how some nights she so rushed through dinner and digging through Benji's backpack to see if there was anything she needed to manage, a kindergartener's version of homework that needed to be done. How she hurried him through playtime and bathtime and storytime. All just to get him – both of them – to his bedtime, so she could collapse onto that couch and have a couple hours to herself. Or worse so she could just get back to work. How so many nights – too many, anymore, especially since Cragen had left and her promotion and workload reality settled in – she just saw the childcare as something else she needed to do. Something else to get through. So she could get on to other things.

She hated that realization. She hated that she, at times, treated her little boy that way. It made her feel like she wasn't that much better than Lisa Moore. She knew that was an over exaggeration. But at the same time she saw how it could become a slippery slope. Yet, she was sure most parents felt that way. Raising a child was work and it did just become a part of daily life. It was a given that there'd be times you'd hate it or be bored with it or wish you were doing something else. That you'd miss that independence or the ability to manage your own schedule and do what you wanted to do when you wanted to do it without extensive planning and organization to allow you to leave the apartment on your own. Olivia just didn't like that she had those moments . Even though it was human. Even though she knew it didn't make her a bad mother. She just didn't want to be having them. Not after wanting a child for so long and for having to fight so hard to bring Benji and Jack into her life. Not when she knew how much joy and happiness Benji brought her – even though he could be so fucking exhausting.

It'd been a long night. A long day. A long three days. A long week. A long month since Cragen had left far too unexpectedly. For as much as she had known it was coming. She hadn't. At least not then.

"Why you so tired, Mommy?" Benji asked.

She rubbed at her eyes in an effort to wake up and gazed back at him. He was still so small and so perfect in every way. She knew she was biased. But when she looked at him, she still saw her baby. Part of her would forever ache that she didn't get to met him and hold him as a baby. That she didn't get to be there for him and to save him. But that didn't mean that he wasn't her baby. She knew she'd always see him that way.

She knew that getting to see and hold that baby boy earlier in the day had only driven home those thoughts even more. That sweet little baby. So small. The stirrings it had brought on in her and how at the same time it had just made her think of the baby she had at home even more. The little boy she'd been waiting and waiting and waiting for and not even fully knowing she was waiting. Not knowing who she was waiting for.

Now, though, she couldn't imagine him not being in her life. The thought of him being missing from it – no matter the frustration, exhaustion, stress, worry and heartache he caused hurt too much. Her life before him and Jack was sad in so many ways. A life without them now was sadder. She couldn't imagine ever going back to that. Or ever wanting to. She couldn't imagine just leaving them somewhere. 'Re-homing' them. She couldn't imagine just handing off a child because they didn't meet her expectations of what motherhood might look like or who her child might be. The whole concept was just so unimaginable and so disgusting to her in so many ways.

She saw so much of herself in Benji. She still knew that when some casual observers saw them she didn't immediately look to be his mother. Not with his fair skin and fine, wispy strawberry locks. Not with those expressive pools of blue. But somehow it didn't matter when she looked at him - all she saw was hers. Her little boy. Her baby. Her Little Fox.

She knew parts of herself she saw in him she was likely just seeing Jack. She was seeing that line of family genetics passed down to the little boy by his biological mother. And, it was that she could see so much of herself in Jack that she'd started relating features in Benji to herself too. It wasn't delusional. She thought it was some sort of instinctive reaction and bond ingrained between mother and child. It didn't matter that he hadn't grown inside of her. Not anymore.

It was nature versus nurture too. For all the physical features Benji didn't have of hers – it was picking up on some of her mannerisms. Jack halfways teased and halfways criticized some of it. Benji's raised eyebrows and crossed arms. His 'I'm right' attitude. She wasn't sure Jack should criticize too much, though. Because the little boy spent just as much time looking to him for how he was supposed to act. Those shrugs and huffs and feet on all sorts of furniture. It was all Jack.

Yet, that night she found herself wondering if maybe she was more delusional that such a bond existed been adoptive mother and son. Lisa Moore clearly hadn't experienced. Could see not see herself in her little boy yet? Things he said or did. Expressions and actions and movements. Not even that, even knowing that Nicky was adopted, Olivia could see bits of his mother and father in that little boy. The dark straggly hair and the soulful eyes. Gangly and full of presence. She could see his parents in him. She wished they could step back and take the time to see it too.

"Oh … it's just been a busy week at work, Little Fox," she admitted. "It just has made Mommy tired. Hasn't it been a busy week at school too?"

He nodded. "School very busy," he said.

She smiled down at him for the seriousness in his voice but she just rubbed at his little bicep a bit more and held him against her. She dreaded when he was too big for cuddles. When he stopped seeking them out or he got too heavy for her to tolerate him sitting in her lap very long. As much as the times he climbed into her lap was usually him looking for comfort, it also brought her so much calm and comfort too.

"So aren't you tired then, Benj?" she asked. "Are you ready to go lie down in your bed and sleep?"

Benji shook his head against her at that. "I sleep with you tonight Mommy," he said.

She let out a little sigh and rubbed at his arm some more. "Hmm … big boys should sleep in their own bed, Little Fox," she said.

The reality, though, was that in a lot of way she still found herself transfixed when her little boy slept. She usually found herself watching him. She'd stand in the door when she checked in on him before going to bed. She'd sit on the floor next to his bed and just stare on those nights where he'd particularly been struggling. And, on those nights he'd struggled even more or had awoken from a nightmare and appeared at her bedside wanting to crawl in with her, she always ended up just watching. It just robbed her on the sleep she actually needed. If she did actually fall asleep with him in her bed, Benji was an awful flailer. She didn't feel like being kicked and having wayward arms and fists smack in her face all night either. It wasn't really conducive to sleep at all. She needed sleep that night – to force her mind to rest – to regroup and to go into work for the next round.

It's a new day tomorrow. It was a favorite saying with the daycare workers – and it was one that she'd started reciting to both of her boys too. After their bad days or bad nights or flashbacks or meltdowns. After a blow out with Jack that one or both of them ended up apologizing for. After teary timeouts imposed on Benji. They had a lot of days where they had to remind themselves it was just one day. It was just the past. And, they needed to keep looking forward to the future. They could get there. They would.

Olivia just wished she knew what tomorrow would bring. She couldn't control it. Not with work. Not with the boys. She thought that maybe she could control some of it at home. Jack would be over in the evening. Maybe he and Benji could get through the night without bickering. Maybe she could figure out something to do with them on Saturday. Take them ice skating. They liked that. They were both too good at it. It made her feel so uncoordinated. Maybe they'd just a family walk if it warmed up at all. Maybe she could invite Alex over for dinner on Sunday night. Both of the boys would like that. Attention from Auntie.

"But I wanna sleep with you Mommy," Benji whined at her.

She looked down at his pleading eyes. She thought of those sad eyes that those three little girls had had in the motel. The pain of what they'd been through and their attempts to try to see some normalcy in it. So much for little girls to be able to handle. Situations they never should've had to endure. And now they were tossed back to a system that had already failed them. Who knows where'd they'd end up and like they could realistic every trust or adjust to whatever family they ended up with now. That trust would be hard earned. It may never be earned. Then there was that baby. Would anyone come forward to him? Their initial scan wasn't showing any missing children reports to suggest he'd been abducted. Following up on that was going to have to be part of tomorrow's plan.

Olivia just sighed again at her little boy and held him tight to her. That night she just couldn't bring herself to let him go.

"OK," she agreed.

_**That's it folks. Though, I might be persuaded into another chapter or two. But this was as far as I had planned on taking it. **_


End file.
