Written for @marchwhumpness ‘s fic challenge: Appendicitis.
Probably more comfort/fluff than whump, but kid in pain causing dad emotional distress counts, right? This is a few missing scenes from a Season 6 Law and Order SVU episode, where Stabler is off the case as his son has appendicitis.
“ He’s got a fever of 101, he hardly ate any dinner last night, and you know how Dickie feels about my mom’s mac and cheese! Then he vomited everything up again. I’ve made an emergency appointment with Dr Archer, for tomorrow morning. The patient wants to talk to you, El, I’ll pass you over now.”
Elliot sighed, waiting for his wife to pass the phone to his son. It really sounded like Dickie was sick, as his kid had no energy, was off his food and was complaining of a stomach ache.
“Hi Dad. I don’t feel good at all. Please can you come and see me if I have to stay home from school?” Dickie implored, using his most pitiful tone.
He sounded so young and so sad, and Elliot just wanted to scoop him up in a hug. He swallowed thickly before replying.
“Yeah, of course I’ll come see you, kiddo. It must be bad if you’re turning down Grandma Ruth’s mac and cheese, it’s the best. Mom’ll give me a call when you’ve seen the doctor. Until then, Dr Dad says rest and make sure you drink lots of water, OK?”
Elliot hoped his attempt at humour would help his son feel a little brighter.
Dickie let out a giggle at the idea of his father being a medical professional.
“Yeah, thanks, Dad. Hope you solve the case.” Dickie replied.
“Thanks, buddy. Hope you feel better soon. I love you”
“Love you too, Dad. Do you want to talk to Mom again?”
Elliot responded in the negative and hung up, before returning to his mountain of case files.
The next morning, after Kathy’s call to the precinct.
Elliot grabbed his jacket, his wallet, phone and keys before dashing to his car. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, considering taking a police car to St Luke’s hospital, sirens blaring and thus having to avoid all the traffic lights. He was sure Cragen would understand, but the IAB would probably have something to say about it, so it wasn’t worth the headache.
The journey seemed interminable, and why were all the traffic lights red today? Elliot honked impatiently at any driver who paused for a fraction of a second before moving away from the light.
He finally pulled into the hospital car park, threw some coins into the parking meter, ensuring it was enough to cover a whole day of parking, though the price made him wince.
He ran inside the building, and only stopped when a nurse called out to him with a warning that he couldn’t just barge in without his identity being verified.
“I need to see my son, Dickie Stabler. He has suspected appendicitis!” he barked at the nurse.
She frowned, checking the in-patient list.
“I’m sorry, sir, we don’t have a Dickie Stabler here”
Elliot’s heart pounded as if it were going to burst out of his chest. His palms felt moist, his head was spinning, he couldn’t breathe… Where the hell was his kid?
“We have a Richard Matthew Stabler though” she continued, unaware that the man in front of her had nearly become the latest casualty on the ward.
“Yes, that’s him!” Elliot gabbled, having extricated his ID from his jacket pocket.
The nurse carefully and quickly checked it before handing it back to him, then giving him the room number. Elliot thanked her quickly.
As Elliot made his way down the corridor as fast as his legs could carry him, untying his tie as he did so , while also listening intently for the sounds of Kathy or his son’s voice.
A familiar chatter reached his ears as he rounded the corner.
“ Yeah, he’s the coolest! He’s super brave, really smart ‘cause he always solves the case. Olivia, his partner is super cool too, she helps him too. When I was little, he came to my school and showed everyone his badge. He said if kids didn’t have a safe adult to talk to, they should talk to me and I could tell him about it and he’d fix it… He’ll be here soon, you’ll see” Dickie chattered away to the nurse who was taking his temperature.
Kathy was sitting in a chair on the other side of his bed, her hand patting his leg affectionately.
The nurse finished her ministrations and moved away from the bed, revealing Elliot standing in the doorway.
Kathy offered him a small smile and a hello, followed by thanking him for coming so quickly.
His son’s face lit up, his grin almost splitting his face in half.
“Dad!” he exclaimed, wriggling so vigorously that he almost dislodged his IV.
“Hey, kiddo, how are you feeling?” he asked, pulling up a chair opposite his wife, before cupping his son’s face with his hands, then pressing a kiss to his still too warm forehead and smoothing his hair off his pale face, soothing and stilling him.
“My stomach still hurts, Dad. Like, a lot. I have to have an operation! And I’m starving!” Dickie complained, grabbing hold of his father’s hand, seeking comfort and reassurance. Elliot squeezed it gently.
“ You’ll feel better once you’ve had your operation, buddy. And once you’re allowed to eat again, you can get whatever you want, I promise.”
Dickie nodded and tightened his grasp on his dad’s hand.
Whatever medication Dickie had been given started to take effect, as his boy’s eyelids fluttered closed, his grip slackening as he drifted off.
Once he was asleep, Kathy quickly explained that their son did indeed have appendicitis and would be operated on later that afternoon.
Eventually, the doctor came to explain the procedure to them and Dickie, and gave them a surgery time.
Then the nurse came in to give Dickie an injection of pain meds.
“Hey, look at me, Dickie. You can squeeze my hand as hard as you want, if it hurts. Do you remember that summer we went to the beach? You and Lizzie decided to dig to China, we had swimming races and we found the best ice cream stand…” Elliot said, trying to distract his son from what the nurse was doing, knowing how much his son hated having injections.
“Yeah, and Grandma B and Kitkat made that massive sandcastle! They covered it in seashells and seaweed.”
“Ah yes, the sand palace. We’ll have to look for a picture of it in the photo albums when we get home.” Elliot continued, as the nurse caught his eye, letting him know the procedure she had been performing on Dickie had been completed.
Kathy then came back with coffee and some lunch for herself and Elliot, as Dickie had been most insistent that his father not leave his side even for an instant.
Elliot promised him he’d be there when he woke up from his operation.
After the operation
“Hey buddy, it’s OK, everything went fine” Elliot told Dickie, whose eyelids were fluttering open as the effects of the anaesthetic wore off.
Dickie eventually got the all clear to go home, where he would have to stay for a few days to fully recuperate before returning to school.
At Dickie’s insistence, Elliot was going to be staying with him for that period.
“I’ll swing by my place and pick up what I need while you get settled with your movie and ice-cream, OK, buddy?” Elliot told his son, who was clinging to him like a limpet to a rock.
Dickie nodded, still reluctant to be apart from his father.
Elliot pressed a kiss to the top of his son’s head, gave him a final gentle hug as Dickie squeezed him hard before letting go and heading off with Kathy to her car.
Elliot quickly returned to the family home and packed a suitcase for himself with everything he would need for his stay at his mother-in-law’s house. Sleeping on the couch was going to suck, but his little boy needed him, so that’s what he had to do.
He swung by the supermarket to stock up on cookie dough ice cream for his recovering child, as that is what he wanted to eat.
He hated having to ring the doorbell to see his kids, but his mother-in-law opened the door for him and took the bag full of tubs of ice cream from him. He abandoned his suitcase by the coat rack and made his way into the lounge, after removing his jacket and hanging it up.
Dickie was sitting on the couch, a blanket draped over himself, and his hands full with a gigantic tub of ice cream and a spoon. He was so focused on the movie playing on the TV screen that he didn’t notice Elliot settling down next to him.
Elliot slid his arm around his son, tugging him closer and smoothing his hair.
Dickie leaned his head against his shoulder, tucking himself into his father’s side.
“What are we watching, kiddo?” he questioned.
“It’s called Jackass, Dad. It’s the best!” Dickie replied.
For the next few days, if Dickie wasn’t sleeping, he was eating cookie dough ice cream and watching the seriously overrated so-called comedy. Even Lizzie had begun complaining about it.