Hello all! The concept for this story was a love child of the 20th anniversary of 9/11 weighing heavy on my heart and the conversation between Tuckson in (21x12) The Longest Night of Rain about where Ed worked after 9/11.

I know timeline wise Olivia would've had that very short pixie cut when 9/11 happened but for story's sake she has her s1 hair in this fic bc that's my fave baby benson lol.

ENJOY!


The silence.

It was eerie. She had grew up in this city and she had never heard it like this. The chirping of hundreds of downed firefighters' PASS alarms and the low roar of raging fires beneath the rubble were drowned out by the thick heavy dust that hung in the air.

Dozens of officers gathered at the command post the NYPD had set up right outside the New York Law School. Debris crunched underfoot as she shifted from one to another and she looked down at the gray wreckage. Despite being at least ten blocks away from the Trade Center, there were several inches of dust, metal, paper, and God know what else that separated he street from her running shoes.

That morning was one of the rare weekdays she had off thanks the rotating schedule newly implemented among the detectives. Olivia was on her way back from her morning run when she heard it.

The wretched sound of a 737 slicing through the North tower of the World Trade Center followed by a plume of dark smoke tainting the bright September sky. Without a second thought, she began sprinting the thirty or so blocks towards lower Manhattan. Reacting the only way she knew how, to help those in need.

That seemed like a whole other life now. Another planet even. It was now approaching one in the morning and the Captain was addressing them with a megaphone from where he stood atop a dusty car. She couldn't tell if her hearing had gotten damaged from the events of the day or if it was the trauma finally settling into her bones but the Captain's order sounded warbled, like he was underwater.

Even though it was well into the night there was a surreal glow about as if all the particles of glass and metal in the air were reflecting whatever street lights were still working. She could just make out that the Captain was telling all that were gathered to go home and rest as volunteers from all over the country arrived on the devastated island.

Pulling the N95 off her face so it dangled from her neck, she rolled her shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension she knew realistically would linger for months. When she opened her raw, tired eyes and that's when she saw him. A familiar face.

Lieutenant Ed Tucker. The IAB boss that seemingly always had out for her and Elliot.

Except his appearance was a stark contrast to how she was used to seeing him. His normally starched white dress shirt was ripped and stained with dust and blood, the tattered sleeves rolled to his elbows. His strong, broad shoulders were uncharacteristically slumped with defeat.

There was a slight trickle of blood caked down his sharp cheek originating from a small laceration on his eyebrow. He stared unblinking with his bare forearms crossed over his chest, wearing the same expression as everyone in their huddle. Everyone in their city.

Shock. Terror. Disbelief.

The crowd of first responders began to disperse and that's when his eyes caught hers. A surprising feeling of relief washed over her, she couldn't explain it. Just seeing a familiar face, no matter who it was, suddenly grounded her.

The way his chest visibly deflated when he saw her made the corner of her eyes sting and she wondered if he could see the tears that flooded them since his gaze had not left hers. All he could do was shake his head as they both moved towards each other, meeting in the middle.

"Glad to see you're safe, Detective Benson." He broke the silence as his steely blue eyes moved along her body as if assessing for any damage. His voice was more gruff than she had ever heard it, as if breathing in the acrid dust tore up his throat.

The sincerity that she heard in his voice and felt under his caring eye was almost as surreal as the day's events. "Never thought I'd be happy to see you, Tucker."

Ed huffed a humorless laugh and the corner of his thin lips twitch in the slightest. A long beat hung between them as he continued to survey the gray coated wasteland around them. "This is a nightmare." The look returned to his face.

Shock. Terror. Disbelief.

"Literal hell on earth." Olivia agreed. The corners of his eyes flashed with tears and he ran his hand down his face as he looked away from her. It was all too much. She tried to clear the soot and emotions from her throat. "Where are you headed from here?"

Rubbing his hand over his hair and down his face, some lingering ash fell as he looked back at her. "Queens, hopefully."

"Uh, I overheard one of the Port Authority guys. He said that all the trains and bridges are shut down, no way on or off the island until the morning."

Sighing, he hung his head as he reached a hand up to rub the back of his tense neck. "JC, Mary, and Joseph."

Reaching out, she laid a hand on his bicep and his breath caught in his throat. There had never been a time where he craved human touch more but he didn't realize it until her small gesture. "I'm not too far from here, W 15th St. Come and get cleaned up."

The offer practically knocked him off his feet. Being in IAB, the vast majority of the NYPD loathed him and he really couldn't blame them. Stabler was a cop with a thick file, they had many run ins and he was very aware of how protective Olivia was of her partner.

So the fact that she was opening up her home, her safe place, to him was astonishing to say the least. But if there was any silver lining to days like these, it was this. The way it brought people together.

"I don't know...", he trailed off hesitantly.

Before he could get too into his head, she cut him off. "Look around, Tucker. The world has already turned upside down, it's not gonna end if you use my shower."

Olivia was right. The world they knew no longer existed, there were no rules. All they could do was try to to keep their heads above water, in any way they could.

Giving her a nod, they turned in silent agreement and headed towards her apartment. Together.


Opening the door to her apartment, Olivia let out the breath she had subconsciously been holding since the first plane struck. She had never, ever been so grateful to be home. Tucker moved in behind her and she almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

IAB Lieutenant Ed Tucker standing in the entryway of her apartment.

Huffing something that resembled a laugh, she shook her head in disbelief. "I'm gonna jump in the shower real quick and then it's all yours." She offered, taking the N95 mask off from around her neck.

Reaching up, she pulled the hair tie from her dark locks and bent over to shake whatever she could out of it. He watched her as she did this and something hit him directly in the center of his chest. It kind of took his breath away.

The majority of the time he interacted with cops they were cold, defensive. Every word measured. He rarely saw them being human.

"Take your time. I, uh, really appreciate this, Detective." He rasped as he worked to remove the outer layer of his clothing, trying his hardest to contain any of the debris coming off of him to the tiny foyer. A small smile creeped on to her face as she watched him maneuver awkwardly.

After several failed attempts to unfasten her pants, she huffed and looked down to see what the issue was. She knew how powerful a drug adrenaline was but it absolutely stunned her that she hadn't realized the state of her fingers.

Cuts and burns tainted the tips of her fingers, nothing devastating but definitely some that will linger and scar. Her fingers trembled as the pain trickled into her nerves and she wondered how long it would've taken her to feel it if she hadn't noticed the injury. She had been digging through the rubble in her bare hands, not entirely sure for how long. Time didn't exist in hell.

If it wasn't for the kind EMT that gave her his extra pair of tactical work pants, she would've spent the whole day knee deep in jagged debris in nothing but running shorts. "Can you, uh, would you mind...", she stammered and cleared her throat.

When he looked up at her, she motioned towards her pants before showing him her hands. She didn't need to say anything else. Kneeling in front of her, he undid the many button, fastens and snaps that held up the EMT pants.

Reaching down to hold his shoulders, she couldn't help but spare him a look. His angular, handsome face was stained with soot and focused on the task at hand. She still had on her running shorts underneath so he really had to work the cargo material over the curve of her hips but his hands could not have been more gentle. Ed allowed her to brace her weight on his shoulders as she stepped out of the garment, before he patted her calf softly.

Moving her hands from his shoulders to the sides of his neck, she tilted his head up until his eyes caught hers. "Olivia." she said softly, causing his brow to pull together is question. "You're in my home, you just took off my pants. You can call me Olivia."

A smirk tilted his mouth as he gave her a nod in return before she slipped away and made her way to the back bedroom.


Hearing the pipes creak as the shower turned off, Olivia wiped her wet cheeks as she exhaled a stream of smoke out the cracked window. As soon as stepped under the steamy shower, the floodgates had opened. The tears mixed with the hot water as it washed away the residue that was caked on her skin, her shoulders suddenly caving under the burden of the day's trauma.

It came to a point where her sobs got so uncontrollable that she had to turn the water to the coldest setting to shock her out of impending hyperventilation. Now she was leaning against the window sill, pulling on a half smoked joint that she dug out of her bedside drawer but the tears hadn't stopped.

Pulling the earthy smoke into her lungs, she held it for a beat while relaxation seeped into her muscles before releasing. It seared the lining of her throat, the burn a welcome pain compared to the suffering that was endured that day. She watched as the thick cloud dissipated into the still night air and wondered if the city she loved, her home, would ever be the same.

The door to the bathroom opened and Ed walked out, drying his hair with a towel. He saw her standing by the windows with her back to him, the hem of her oversized NYPD shirt reaching mid thigh practically hiding her cotton shorts.

Walking into the living area, he sniffed the air inquisitively. "Is that...?" He wondered as he approached her. She briefly thought about throwing the rest of the joint out of the window and lying, and under any other circumstances she would have. But they were now in unprecedented times.

Taking another pull, she hesitantly turned around to face him. "Those clothes weren't the only thing left behind by an old boyfriend." She eyed him where he stood in the navy sweatpants and grey zip up hoodie she had managed to rummage from her drawers.

Exhaling a thick cloud out the cracked window, she turned back and offered him the small smoldering roll as he reached her side. His attention went from her outstretched hand to her heavy lidded eyes and took the offered joint without hesitation. His proximity made the hair stand up at the back of her neck stand on end, the way his presence loomed next to her made her feel surprisingly protected.

A small smile creeped along her lips and just barely reached her glassy eyes as they met his. He tossed her a wink as he brought the roach to his lips, pulling long and hard. A wave of calm spread throughout every cell in his body as it absorbed into his bloodstream. His strong jaw jutted out and a smooth stream of gray smoke danced upward out of his mouth and disappeared into his nostrils.

"Whoa", she gaped in amazement at the party trick, the effects of the weed becoming apparent on her face. Her jaw was a little slack and her droopy eyes were bright with fascination, she almost seemed like a different person than the one he had gone head to head with in the squad room.

With a chuckle, he handed her back the dwindling butt. "If you find a little french inhale that intriguing, then I think it's working." He mused, raising his eyebrows at the contraband as she brought it to her mouth again.

"Lemme try", she mumbled around the joint and he suddenly was enthralled but the way her plump lips stuck to the crinkled paper.

A look of focus made her face tense and tightened her brow, he could feel a smile tickling the corners of his lips at her childlike concentration. Suddenly, smoke sputtered out of her nose as she dissolved into a fit off coughs.

A chuckle bubbled up his throat as he reached out to pat her back. "Oh no", She managed to hack out between breaths as she scrunched and rubbed her nose. "Why does it feel like water went up my nose?"

That made him break into a full on laugh. "That'll happen." He snickered, his hand moving up to rest gently and comfortingly on the back of her neck as she calmed.

When she finally regained composure, her eyes narrowed in concern as she reached up a hand to his face. "You're bleeding." She observed, her light touch on his chin tilting his head so she can survey his injury.

"Shit", he cursed, pressing his fingertips to the cut that split his brow. "I got that... earlier."

And that's when the sobering reality of the day toppled around them. The brief respite that the weed had provided came to a screeching halt as she motioned for him to sit on the couch before she disappeared into the bathroom.

Olivia reappeared a moment later with a first aid kit in hand and moved to stand in front of where he sat on the edge of the couch. She grabbed his jaw gently and turned his head to the side to get a better look, her sweet scent washing over him. A mixture of her fabric softener wafting off her sleep shirt and her dark, freshly washed hair tickling her shoulders made his head spin.

"I think it split back open when I laughed." he rasped, the words ripping through his sandpaper throat. He squeezed his eyes shut as her soft fingers assessed the tender skin around the laceration.

With one hand still holding his face, she reached down and grabbed an alcohol wipe packet from the kit. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she ripped it open with her teeth and it made something ignite deep in his belly. "The man of stone cracks." She quipped before dabbing the wound with the swab. He hissed a breath through clenched teeth causing her to apologize sympathetically.

The sting of the alcohol wipe was mitigated by the hit he had just taken but his fist clasped against his knees. "Probably could've used a couple of stitches." She inspected and he could hear the focus in her voice. "But this should do the trick."

Snapping open the tube of surgical glue, she applied it carefully to his eyebrow. The gentleness of her touch made his chest tighten and his hands came up to circle the back of her knees mindlessly.

A dizziness spun around in her head and she could've blamed it on the effects of the pot but she knew, more likely than not, that it was his hands on her skin. She tried to shake the feeling and focus on the task at the tip of her fingers.

Leaning forward, she blew a slow, steady stream of air against his forehead in an attempt to speed along the drying of the adhesive. Her sweet breath surrounded him in a warmth he didn't even know he was craving, her fingers a much needed tenderness.

A tightness gripped his chest as the corners of his dry, scratchy eyes prickled with the moisture they craved. He couldn't remember the last time he longed for human touch like this but after a day so full of death, he needed to connect with someone who could make him feel alive.

An overwhelming rush of emotions blindsided him and her pressed his face against her soft stomach as it crumbled in tears. Her body stiffened for the briefest of moments before she stepped in between his legs and hugged his head against her torso.

Sobs wracked his body and rocked hers as he clung to her. A grown man crying was never a pleasant sight but this man who she had only known as a stoic robot crumbling in front of her tore her apart. "I know", she choked out, one hand in his salt and pepper hair while the other dropped to his shoulder blade. "I know."

Twisting around, Olivia maneuvered so she could shift onto the couch with him still holding onto her for dear life. Her back slid down the arm of the couch to the cushions with Ed settling between her legs, his arms slipping around her to hold her under him.

Time didn't exist as they laid there on the couch. The sobs that shook his strong shoulders were subsiding and becoming few and far between as he settled into her quiet comfort. Her hands stroking along his hair and back thoughtlessly, gaining as much peace as she was giving.

For a moment, she must have been straddling the line of consciousness because when he lifted his head she jolted awake. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." His lips twitched in the smallest of smirks as his chin rested lightly on her breastbone.

"You're good." She yawned through a stretch as she wiggled under him, only resulting in her wrapping herself tighter around him as he laid atop her.

The lines deepened on his handsome face and she could tell there was an internal struggle going on behind those icy blue eyes. "Olivia, I..." he began, before pressing his lips together as tears flooded his lash line.

He wanted to tell her that he was sorry about all their past encounters, that none of that matters anymore. She was the person that was there at the end of the worst day of his life and he never thought he would so grateful for Olivia Benson.

With one hand soothing over his shoulder blade, the other rubbed his earlobe between her thumb and forefinger comfortingly. "I know, Tucker. I know."


What did you think?! Did you like it?

I'm usually a one shot type of author but I have been tossing around ideas for making this into a short multi-chapter fic. Is that something you guys would like?

There is no better motivation to write than your reviews so drop them below.