It rained hard outside. Thunder boomed and lightening crackled in the sky. People rushed down the sidewalks, shouting and sometimes laughing, either rushing out of the rain or reveling in it. Elliot did neither. He was too numb to feel the rain. His heart was too cold to feel the frigid air.

Chaos was all around him. He heard a loud bang, and his mind said gun. He fell behind his desk, yanked out his own service weapon, and searched for the squad room's assailant. She had blonde hair and her name was Jenna.

He was conflicted about shooting until she unloaded another bullet. It hit Sister Peg, and her body made a thump as it hit the ground. His hesitation was gone. Jenna could hurt another one of them, she could kill another one of them. His gun made a loud crack as he squeezed the trigger, and the young woman fell to the floor.

Elliot dropped the gun and ran to her, his heart pounding out of his chest. She was going to be okay. She had to be okay, he hadn't killed her. He couldn't have killed her.

Life it seems will fade away

Drifting further everyday

Getting lost within myself

Nothing matters no one else

Elliot was dripping wet when he entered his apartment. His faded blue eyes scanned the dark living room. It was a mess... newspapers that he never read and empty beer cans covered the coffee table and overflowed onto the floor. He didn't have the heart nor the strength to care. No one saw the apartment anyway; he'd been living in a self-imposed solitude for months.

The kitchen wasn't much better than the living room. The fridge was empty except for beer and a few cartons of leftover takeout. He didn't cook anymore; ordering food was the last minute solution he resorted to when he was so hungry that his empty stomach ached. He grabbed one of the six packs from the bottom shelf, walked back into the living room, and dropped onto the couch.

The beer was cold when it went down. He'd always thought that there was nothing like a good, cold beer... now he didn't care so much for the taste as he did the effects.

"I can't do this anymore, Elliot. I'm taking the the twins and Eli to Chicago with my sister. I want a divorce."

"Kathy, please don't... I can fix it. Just give me a chance."

"I've been giving you chances. You killed a child, you need help. Until you do I don't want you near our children."

I have lost the will to live

Simply nothing more to give

There is nothing more for me

Need the end to set me free

Elliot didn't blame Kathy. If their positions were reversed, he probably would have done the same thing. His two girls are older, but the twins and especially Eli are still quite impressionable… none of them should see their father behaving in this way.

With a shaking hand, he pulled the container of Triazolam from his jacket pocket and set it down next to the six pack of beer. Thunder boomed from outside and lightening flashed, lighting part of his face in the dark room. There were dark circles under his eyes and a scruffy beard covered his cheeks. He couldn't remember the last time he'd shaved. It had probably been that long since he slept easily, as well.

"How are you, Elliot?" Doctor Hendrix asked.

"I feel like shit," he answered honestly, "I can't stop thinking about..."

"The shooting?"

He nodded his head, and she asked, "Have you been sleeping?"

"No... the nightmares always come back."

"You need to sleep. That's part of the reason that you're feeling so terrible. I'm going to prescribe Triazolam. Take one before bed and you should be fine."

Things not what they used to be

Missing one inside of me

Deathly loss this can't be real

Cannot stand this hell I feel

Hendrix was right. He did need to sleep... just maybe not the same sleep that she was thinking of. He took another sip of beer and twisted off the cap.

He was too numb to be afraid of death or to care of he went to Hell. He was already living in Hell, with the burden of having killed a child, a little girl the same age as his own daughter. He couldn't go to anyone, couldn't deal with the way they would look at him. As a murderer… as someone who killed a child.

That's exactly what he was. He didn't have to kill her... he could've took a second longer, taken a better aim, and she might have still been alive.

It was a nice day out. Somehow it didn't seem right, nice weather on the day they would bury a child. A child that was shot and killed by a cop.

Elliot wasn't a part of the crowd gathered to mourn. Instead, he stood about a hundred yards away. Sunglasses covered his eyes as he laid low, trying not to be noticed. He shouldn't have been there, but he couldn't help it. He had wanted to apologize to someone, somehow... but he couldn't bring himself to do it. So he just watched as the coffin was lowering into the ground, and when people started to leave, he remained.

Everyone was gone before he approached the grave. Tears formed in his eyes. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to do this... I never wanted this to happen."

The tears streamed down his face. "Someone else could have been hurt..."

Emptiness is filling me

To the point of agony

Growing darkness taking dawn

I was me but now, he's gone

He finished the last of his first beer, and opened a new one. He hadn't deserved to go to that funeral, or cry in front of that grave. Not when he was responsible for her death. If it wasn't for him, she would still be alive.

That's why he hadn't spoken to anyone, and why he stopped seeing Hendrix. He didn't deserve help, or friendship. Jenna hadn't gotten any of that. So what made him think that he could?

When he checked his phone, there were four text messages and two voicemails from Olivia. A pang of guilt shot through him when he deleted them without looking.

He hadn't spoken to her since the shooting. He didn't want to drag her into this. She was too good for him, she didn't deserve to have to listen to his problems, to how he felt about killing a girl that was Lizzie's age. No, he didn't deserve her anymore.

No one but me can save myself, but its too late

Now I can't think, think why I should even try

Yesterday seems as though it never existed

Death greets me warm, now I will just say goodbye

Elliot dumped a pile of tablets from the bottle into his hand, and tossed them back without a second thought. His throat hurt from swallowing too many at a time, but it's nothing compared to the torture he's living through in his head. He gulped down the remaining beer, crushed the can in his fist, and let it fall onto the floor.

It was nearly over. Soon all the pain would be gone. Moments passed, and he started to feel a haze coming over his mind. He opened another beer, his last beer, and took a gulp, leaning back against the couch cushions. He didn't think about what would happen when they found him like this... he didn't think about his kids, or Olivia or Kathy. He didn't care about what they would think. The world would be better off without him, a divorced ex-cop with nothing but blood on his hands.

He can feel himself slipping into the darkness. He's too numb to care, too engulfed by the darkness to be afraid. The pain slipped away; everything faded to black. Elliot's eyes finally closed.

Goodbye