The Man Behind the Shadows; SVU; PG13

[morgynleri]

Title: The Man Behind the Shadows
Co-Author: auberus
Fandom: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit
AU: Darker Reflections
Rating: PG13 (Violence)
Characters: George Huang, Elliot Stabler, Casey Novak, Sammie, Jesse
Word Count: 3400

Summary: There are rumours about this part of Chinatown, and the man who rules the streets here.

Notes:

He was used to feeling safe on the streets of Chinatown, and on the campus of NYU, even though his uncle had graduated already. He was accustomed to no one daring to bother him, because of his uncle's reputation. So it had never occured to Sammie that someone might decide he made a good mark for anything. Especially not when he was just on his way home from the museum, proud that his uncle had let him go on the subway on his own for the first time.

"Hey, Johnny, look what we have here." The voice caught Sammie's attention, and he frowned a little as a man who looked only a little older than his uncle pushed away from the wall he was leaning against. "Isn't that the Huang kid?"

Another man had been leaning against a parked car, and he grinned a bit, shrugging. "Looks like he's out without his babysitter."

Sammie slowed down, confused, though he started forward again after a moment. The first man reached out to shove him as he came closer, toward the one next to the car, and he stumbled, glaring at the man a moment. "Leave me alone."

"Why should I, kid?" There was a dark scowl on his face.

The defiant, childish treble, tight with fear, is enough to catch Elliot's attention from half a block away.  It could just be a kid with an attitude, but the answering rumble, though the words are indistinct, has a nasty, amused tone to it that Elliot doesn't like at all.  He's killed grown men for nothing more than money, but kids are a different story.  The only hits he's ever done for free are the ones he's taken for parents with violated children.  He crosses the street, moving casually enough that no watcher would realize the danger he's bringing with him, careful to stay out of the line of sight of whatever assholes have decided that bothering a child is a good idea at this time of night.  The gun in his waistband is in his hand almost before he thinks about it, and he reaches the corner of the wall just in time to hear the kid say 'leave me _alone_' in tones that are bordering on desperate, like he's already said it more than once.  After that, it's simple, especially when he comes around the corner to find one of the jackasses with a hand wrapped around the upper arm of a boy who looks all of ten.  His gun is still down, hidden behind his leg, but it's already drawn, and that's all the advantage he needs.

"Hey.  Asshole.  Let go of the kid."  It's not a request, and refusal to comply will have seriously nasty consequences.

Looking over at the new voice, Johnny didn't even loosen his grip on Sammie's arm, not willing to relinquish his prey. His companion stepped forward, giving the newcomer a look he thinks is dangerous.

"And look, we got some white man trying to tell us what to do. What, you a cop?" He sneered, spreading his arms a little, and beckoning. "Come on, you really want to fight me?"

Sammie struggled to pull away from Johnny, yelping again when the man yanked on his arm, tightening his grip. "Let me go!"

"Fight you?"  Elliot smiles, knowing that the look on his face is nothing like friendly.  "Not even a little bit."  After that, it's automatic, Marine Corps training still just below the surface of his skin, and double-tapping the guy with his hand on the kid is as easy as breathing.  Asshole #1 goes down even as #2's eyes widen, hand diving for a weapon of his own.  Elliot never gives him a chance.  Two more bullets put him on the ground with his friend, and then Elliot's kicking weapons away from corpses and prying a dead man's hand off of the boy's arm, not putting his own gun away even as he checks the boy over for injuries.

"You okay, kid?"

Sammie stared at the man with wide eyes, his mouth dry. He's never seen someone actually get killed before, even though he knows his uncle has people do that for him. And he's not sure why the man rescued him - he's not someone Sammie's ever seen at his uncle's place.

After a moment, he shivers and gulps, trying to nod. "They just shoved me around." He doesn't know what they'd have done if the man hadn't shown up, though. "I have to get home, my uncle'll be worried."

"I'll take you home, kiddo," Elliot assures him.  "Come on; let's get out of here."  Leaving before the cops show is an extremely important idea, especially with two men dead at clearly expert hands.  "We're going to your uncle's place?  Where is that?"  He's not an expert with children, but he's seen enough PTSD in his life to know that it's important to keep the boy talking, keep him from focusing on what he's just seen.  "I'm Elliot.  What's your name?"

"Sammie." Sammie inched around the bodies, heading down the street again. "It's in Chinatown, above the laundromat my grandparents ran before they died. Uncle Danny runs it for Uncle G now."

"Do you know a street address?" Elliot asks, holding his hand out for Sammie to take if he wants it.  The other hand is still holding his gun, but he's being careful to keep it out of the kid's sight.

"Uncle G told me never to tell anyone." Sammie took the offered hand, looking up at the man a moment. "He doesn't like unexpected visitors. But he's nice, and I'll tell him you helped me."

"I appreciate that," Elliot says dryly.  "But unless you can find your way from here, Sammie, I'm not gonna be able to get you home unless you tell me your address."  They're not too far from Chinatown, but far enough that he'd much rather take a cab the rest of the way -- especially if the assholes now cooling on the pavement have friends in the area.  "What if I get us a cab, then plug my ears while you tell him where to go?" he suggests.

Sammie bit his lip, and then nodded. "Ok. Uncle G won't mind that, I don't think." Especially once he told his uncle that Elliot had rescued him from Johnny and his friend.

Elliot tucks his pistol away reluctantly, and thank Christ the first cab he hails stops on a dime in front of them.

"All right, Sammie -- you tell the man where we're going," he says, and if the cabbie isn't happy about the fare, one look from Elliot is enough to shut him up.  Elliot turns away, into the wind, while Sammie tells the guy where to go; then they're getting into the cab together, and if Sammie hasn't figured out that Elliot will know where they are the minute they pull up, Elliot isn't about to tell him.

Sammie carefully buckled his seatbelt once they were in the cab, waiting patiently as they drove through the street to the laundromat his uncle's friend ran, bouncing out, and waiting while Elliot paid the cabbie.

"Hey, Sammie!" One of the men his uncle employed stepped out of the alley next to the laundromat, looking past him at Elliot. "Who's he?"

"He's Elliot, he helped me when there were some guys like you, except they don't work for Uncle G, bothering me on the way from the subway." Sammie beamed brightly, reaching out to grab Elliot's hand, and head for the doorway that led to the apartments upstairs.

Sammie's words are warning enough as to what Elliot is about to walk into, and he makes good and certain that his pistol is completely hidden as he follows the kid up the stairs.  Half-remembered warnings about this part of Chinatown are beginning to resurface in his mind, and if he's not about to find himself in the middle of a seriously dangerous situation, he'll eat his gun, bullets and all.

"Uncle G!" Sammie ran into the room as soon as he unlocked the door, diving onto the couch where a slim man was sitting, ignoring everyone else in the room. "Can Jesse go with me to the museum next time? There were men like him on the way back from the subway, and if Elliot hadn't come along, they probably would have hurt me. He made sure I got home safe, and I only told the cabbie the address for the laundromat, he wasn't listening."

"Slow down, Sammie." Huang smiled warmly at his nephew, shifting to sit up straighter, drawing the boy closer. "Tell me what happened on the way home again?" He didn't even look up to see who had followed Sammie into the room, though he was quite aware of him. And that every other person in the room had their full attention on the intruder, waiting merely for his word.

Elliot resists the urge to cross his arms, knowing that keeping his hands in plain sight is not only prudent, but probably the only way he'll walk out of here still breathing.

"Couple of punks decided that the kid here was easy meat."  He settles for leaning against the wall instead, tucking his thumbs through his belt loops.  "They won't be bothering anyone, not any more."

"I see." Huang wrapped a comforting arm around Sammie a moment. "Thank you for bringing my nephew home safely. Elliot, was it?"

"Elliot Stabler."  Though he's not sure why he's telling this man his full name.  "You might want to get a clean-up crew down there -- I left two bodies lying in more or less plain sight, and there are bound to be questions."  He can feel the smile tugging at one corner of his mouth, and gives in to it.  "Especially given the...efficiency of the whole thing."  Two double-taps to the head aren't the sort of thing that characterize most muggings, or even most police shoot-outs.  Amateurs always expend too much ammunition.

A flick of a glance at one of the men, and a nod of the head, and he holstered his weapon, pulling out a cell phone, speaking in rapid-fire Cantonese to whoever was on the other end. Arranging to remove the evidence that needed to be removed, and destroying what couldn't.

"Sammie, why don't you go on and get yourself ready for bed?" Huang met Sammie's eyes a moment, giving him an expectant look. "I just want to talk with Eliot. I'll be right here."

That made Sammie relax and smile brightly before he headed for the hallway that led back into the rest of the apartment. Certain that his uncle was really only going to talk to Elliot, rather than take him elsewhere, and do whatever he meant by talking to people at the warehouse.

Huang returned his attention to Elliot, his expression mild and bland as he watched the taller man. "Jian, bring Mr. Stabler a chair, please. I prefer my guests to be comfortable."

Elliot accepts the proffered chair, but only because he can still reach his pistol while sitting.  He's well aware of the hornets' nest he's walked into accidentally, and though he knows that if it does turn to shooting he's almost certainly dead, it doesn't mean that he's not going to at least try to protect himself.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" Huang raised an eyebrow at Elliot, not missing the tension across his shoulders. He's heard the name before, and he knows the man is good at what he does. The sort of man who might have made a difference in Huang's life if he'd existed when he was still a child burning with the loss of his parents.

"A beer would be nice," Elliot admits.  He's enough of a drinker that one beer won't affect him -- and alcohol is always an icebreaker.  Besides, if things get ugly, it might help him to be underestimated, should that prove necessary.

A woman stepped out this time, bringing back a bottle of beer, holding it out to Elliot silently, a smile quirking up the corner of her mouth. She was the only other person in the room who wasn't Chinese, and she settled against the back of the couch Huang sat on once she'd handed the beer over.

"I'm not about to harm you, Mr. Stabler. I don't do that sort of business in my home." Huang smiled, genuine and brief. "I just want to know a few more details, if you have any, about what happened earlier. If you heard a name, or maybe why they were bothering Sammie?"

"I didn't hear much," Elliot admits.  "One of them was Johnny.  I wasn't sure why they were bothering Sammie at the time -- though it seems pretty obvious, now."  He leans back, closing his eyes for better recall.  "One of them -- the one with his hand on Sammie -- was maybe five-ten, sharp features.  Expensive suit -- Armani, I think.  He looked like Mafia royalty, though that's just an impression, since they were both Asian.  The other one -- didn't get a name -- was a few inches shorter, moved like a knife-fighter, though he didn't pull any weapons.  Again, sharp features and a nice suit.  The two of them could have been related, but again, I'm just guessing.  No-name thought he could really fight, if that helps -- he was confident as all hell, at least until I shot Johnny in the head.  I think he was reaching for a gun after that, but he didn't have enough time to pull it."  He opens his eyes.  "That's really all I can tell you.  I heard Sammie from across the street; he sounded upset, and I have serious issues with assholes who think it's okay to hurt kids, so I stepped in."

Huang nodded, his expression thoughtful. One of his rivals, he suspected, or one of Sao's former backers that hadn't liked some young upstart taking over the late gangster's business. Ones who thought they could hold their own in a world where the rules had changed, at least in this part of New York. He didn't much care for the rest of it, so long as it didn't interfere in his interests.

"What you have told me is more than Sammie could have, and I am glad for any information you can give me." Huang nodded to Elliot, a simple thank you. He intended to find out who the two who'd hassled his nephew worked for, and make sure they understood their error before he destroyed them as utterly as he had Sao.

"Not a problem," Elliot shrugs.  "Like I said, I really don't like people who hurt children.  And Sammie's a good kid.  Smart.  Though -- you might point out to him that if he isn't supposed to give out the address to this place, bringing strangers home probably isn't a good idea either."  He frowns, remembering an almost throw-away comment the unnamed one of the two assailants had made.  "Whoever they are, they've got a racial problem with whites -- or at least, one of them did.  I don't know if that helps you narrow it down or not."

"It might." It actually eliminated one possibility, and made another a much greater probability. Though not certain, not yet. "I never told Sammie he couldn't bring anyone home, only that he's not to give out the address. A guest isn't an unexpected visitor."

"Good to know."  Elliot takes another swallow of his beer, turning the bottle back and forth between his hands.  Huang seems sharp, very sharp -- and very dangerous, if provoked.  Elliot has absolutely no intention of doing anything of the kind.  "If you don't mind, I'd like to say good bye to Sammie before I head out."  He pauses, debating for a moment, then decides to go for it.  "If you ever want someone to keep an eye on him, you're welcome to look me up.  I'm not usually into bodyguard work, but I'll make an exception in his case, if you want."

"The offer is appreciated, Mr. Stabler." Huang smiled, nodding his head slightly. "Some assistance for Jesse in keeping an eye on Sammie would be welcome." If only because Sammie had been getting cranky at the restrictions of having someone following him around everywhere once he was out of sight of the laundromat.

Elliot doesn't carry business cards, largely because he isn't really sure what he'd put on them.  He does have a cell phone, but he's not sure it would be a good idea to reach inside his jacket for a pen.

"If you've got a pen, I'll leave you my cell number," he offers.  "If I don't answer, Olivia Benson can usually get in touch with me."

"Casey, would you lend Mr. Stabler a pen and a card?" Huang didn't even look up at the woman leaning against his couch as she shifted, reaching for something out of sight behind it. She handed Elliot what had been requested before settling back onto her previous perch. "I believe Casey is familiar with Ms Benson's business partner, if any contact is made through those ladies, she'll be my go-between."

Elliot nods, scrawling his name and cell number on the notepad, then setting it down on the table in front of him.

"I've got a few other irons in the fire," he says, leaning back and finishing off his beer, "but if you let me know in advance when you'll need me, I can try and clear my schedule.  Most of my other work is fairly flexible as far as scheduling is concerned."

"Of course." Huang didn't intend to let Sammie out of the neighborhood for a few days, until he was certain there isn't any risk of investigation of the dead gangsters coming back to him.

He doesn't get a chance to say anything more before Sammie bounded back into the room, smiling cheerfully at his uncle. "Can I say goodnight to Miss Casey, and to Elliot, and to Jesse, and to Uncle Danny?"

"Jesse's busy right now, but I'll call Uncle Danny up so you can say goodnight. Go on." Huang returned Sammie's smile, nodding his permission before reaching up to take the phone Casey handed him. It didn't take more than a moment to let his partner know Sammie wanted to say goodnight.

Sammie turned, ignoring his uncle for a moment, smiling at Elliot. "Thank you for rescuing me from the bad men, Elliot."

"Any time, Sammie."  Elliot reaches out and ruffles the kid's hair.  "I think your uncle's gonna let you come out with me some times.  We could go catch a Yankees game, or maybe go to the museum.  Think you'd like that?"  He's never had kids of his own -- and probably won't, given his preferences, but he likes them.  It's one of the only reasons he sometimes wishes things were different; that he were different.

"Yeah!" Sammie's smile widened, and he darted forward, impulsively hugging Elliot. "I like museums a lot. There's all sorts of interesting things there, and there aren't a lot of people getting in the way of seeing them."

Elliot hugs him back, a little awkwardly.  "Museums it is, then.  Your uncle will tell you when it's okay for us to go.  And he's got my phone number, so if you want to talk to me, give me a call."  He straightens, and pats Sammie on the head one last time.  He's glad he was in the right place at the right time tonight.  He doesn't get a lot of chances to see positive results from his actions, and it's a rare sort of reward that eases a little of the tension out of his shoulders.

Sammie nods before turning away, to say goodnight to Casey, exchanging hugs with her as well, before he climbed onto the couch to wait for Danny to come up from the laundromat.

Huang stands, the rest of the adults in the room straightening as he does so, focus once more on him. "Thank you for bringing home my nephew, Mr. Stabler. I will call you if I need your assistance." He inclines his head to Elliot a bit, a formality and a dismissal in one.

"My pleasure," Elliot says, and heads out, down the stairs and into the street, tucking his hands into his coat pockets as he goes.