DANCING IN LIMBO
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, but to Dick Wolf, NBC, etc. Their use is not intended for profit, only for entertainment. The plot is original and likenesses to any others are merely a coincidence.
Author's Note: So...here we are. Here's a story that I wrote. ;)
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He remembers learning about purgatory as a child. He remembers asking his mother the reason for purgatory. Why didn't people just go straight to Heaven or Hell? She told him that no person was either all good or all bad and purgatory gives the person a second chance. Now, as an adult, he knows that isn't true.
The real reason, he has decided, is that purgatory was all about waiting. A person waits for redemption or condemnation. It's the fear of the unknown. Fear has people repenting for sins and begging for salvation. It's this same fear that has Elliot on his knees, praying to a god he isn't even sure he believes in anymore.
It's what has him kneeling at the pew in the desolate church. It's what has him praying, something that he hasn't done in years. He kneels at the pew in the empty church, holding his daughter's rosary beads in one shaking hand. His other hand grips the back of the pew, knuckles turning white from pressure. He mumbles the prayers, saying the words over and over.
"Hail, Mary, full of grace..."
His voice cracks and he can't stand it any longer. The beads drop to the floor and he presses his empty hand against the pew. He sinks to the floor and his body falls forward, his head hitting the cold wood of the pew.
"Oh, God," he whispers. "If you can hear me...If you care at all, then don't do this. Don't do this to me. Don't take her." He feels tears rising in his throat but makes no effort to suppress them. "Don't take her. She doesn't deserve this. Take me instead, God, but not her." He gasps for breath, struggling to find the words.
Hot tears slide down his face as he searches for something to say to change her situation. What could he bargain with? He has nothing that a creator of the universe would want to trade for. He would make any vow if only she could be saved.
She's only living because of the machines. The doctor had told Elliot that she might wake up, but chances are she won't. Elliot had just nodded, unable to speak. He didn't know what to say anymore. There was nothing more he could do, except wait. She would always live this way, hanging onto the threads of life, forcing his hand to make a decision--deciding between life and death.
"She's lucky. She'll survive. She's strong," Cragen had said. "She'll make it, Elliot."
But she won't make it, Elliot thinks. She won't make it. She lost too much blood. He was there. He saw the blood and he tried to stop the blood with his coat. She lost too much to survive.
She won't live. She'll die and it's his fault. If he could change everything, none of this would have happened. He had held her as they waited an eternity for the EMT to arrive. He watched her die in his arms.
"Don't forget me, Elliot. I love you," she said, her voice faint.
"I love you," he said. Her eyes fluttered shut. She was gone.
This is how he knows she won't be coming back. It doesn't matter what the doctor told him. She's already gone. She had made peace with it and now she's somewhere else, watching them with a smile on her face, waiting for them to let go. He doesn't want her to die. Not now. It's too soon; he hasn't spent enough time with her. A thousand years wouldn't be enough. He needs her back. He doesn't know how to function without her and it's too late to learn.
She's going to die and it's his fault. It's only a question of when. There's no question of 'if'. She's going to die and it's his fault.
Suddenly, he feels a pair of arms around his waist, pulling him out of his tortured memories. She holds him and rubs his back soothingly, murmuring comforting words in his ears. He falls into her arms as she supports his weight. Her jacket is wet from the rain and her cool body helps to calm him.
"How'd you know I'd be here?" he finally asks when he is able to speak again.
She gives him a tight smile. "What kind of partner would I be if I didn't, Elliot?"
"I can't deal with this, Liv."
"Yes, you can," she says, the palm of her hand resting on his cheek. "You have to."
"She's my wife. She's everything. There's no point anymore," he whispers, dropping his eyes away from her.
"Yes, there is, Elliot. There is a point and you have four very good reasons sitting in Kathy's room waiting for you."
He allows himself to be led back to Kathy's room and sits beside her bed. No God has fixed the situation yet and he grips her hand as he waits for something to change. It's just a waiting game now and he's losing badly.