AN: I'm ba-ack with another piece of fanfiction! Yay! I don't know if I got the order of the Elliot Stabler sibling's right. Have they ever said on SVU if Elliot was the second eldest child, or something like that? If they did, someone tell me!

Disclaimer: If I owned them…well, I don't. Dick Wolf does. Hail to him.

Spoilers: Elliot's separation. Possibly more as time goes on.

I lean back against the couch in my mother's living room. Mom's at a Catholic Women's league meeting, my kids are with their father. I'm all alone in the house I grew up in. Left to remember everything.

I remember every single thing there is to remember. Five years of pain were worth the fifteen of joy. I remember the heartaches, the tears, the nights spent alone, all the times I've sat worrying by the phone.

But I also remember the roses, the dancing in the kitchen. Playing with the kids. Going to brunch together after mass every Sunday. You've given me four beautiful children, and if only for that reason, I will respect you for that.

I remember when we were in high school. You were the star athlete. You could play anything. I'm still amazed at how natural you are whenever you play sports with the kids. You were an honors students; straight A's, never anything else. The most popular boy in the senior class. In your forties, you still look amazing. In high school, you were to die for. Still are, in fact.

On top of all of that, you were the kind of guy every girl wanted to date. You were passionate about making the world a better place, a completely devout Catholic, who was completely respectful of women. And anyone who saw you with kids saw your compassionate, tender, sweeter side. A side that was enough to take anyone's breath away.

Which is why I was amazed when you picked me. Me, Katherine Baker, better known to the faculty and students of our Catholic high school as Kathy. I was popular, that's fair to say, and also a senior. But still, there were about a hundred other girls to choose from.

We'd known each other since freshmen year, but only really gotten to know each other at a bible study at the parish we both went to during our senior year. It had been early September, a beautiful night. You'd seen me walking to the parish and offered to drive me there. I'd accepted. What sane girl wouldn't have?

We'd sat together at the bible study that night, talking and laughing. I may have not heard a word the teacher said, but the fellowship that went with it was pretty damn good. We were talking after the study, and I'd mentioned that I was having trouble with trigonometry. You'd offered to help me with it. I'd called my mother, and she had said yes.

You were- and are- the second eldest in your family. Your older brother is older by three years. Your little brothers are two and seven years younger then you. Your little sisters are one and ten years younger. Watching you with the youngest ones, who were then eight and ten, had told me from the start that I had found the man I wanted to marry.

Your family was the exact opposite of mine; I'd been raised by my mother, and was an only child. You had been raised by two amazing, wonderful, Catholic parents, and were remarkably close with your siblings. I had been instantly welcomed me into your incredibly close-knit family, which had surprised me. Even now, after I have left the house that I've called home for twenty years, I thank your parents for raising such a wonderful son. I will miss your family, and I will indeed miss you.

Or at least the man you were.

After that night, we had been inseperatable. Elliot and Kathy. Kathy and Elliot. People say teenagers know nothing about love.

But we…we were in love.

We were indeed in love, and one night in early March, we had made love. It had been the first time for both of us, and we hadn't done it again until after we were married. No such thing as Catholic guilt. Yeah, right.

It was Easter weekend when I told you that I thought I was pregnant. I had thought you would break up with me then and there.

It was Easter; the grace of God was present.

Instead, you had claimed that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me. I remember crying from relief, fear, and sadness that day. You had just held me, promised that life was going to be okay, and that no matter what happened, you would be there for me.

It was a promise you kept for fifteen years. The most wonderful fifteen years of my life.

I sit back, and I let myself remember. Really remember…

AN: Please review, you guys! For those of you who write on here, you know how it feels to open up your mailbox and see the reviews! For those of you who can only imagine…it feels good!