Held, a law and order: svu fanfic

HELD

Two months is too little.
They let him go.
They had no sudden healing.
To think that providence would
Take a child from his mother while she prays
Is appalling.

The tree-topped hill was filled with people in mourning. Dress uniforms were the casual wear for that day. Every head was bowed; every eye was wet with sorrowful tears. The comforting sun shown on the rosewood casket, barely four feet long, creating a painful and luminescent glow.

I remember that day like it happened hours ago, but it has been years. He would have four years old, his brown hair and blue eyed face sparkling with childlike glee. It was as if God was mocking my husband and me. He gave us the miracle of a son, and took him away, no warning, and no goodbye.

Who told us we'd be rescued?
What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?
We're asking why this happens
To us who have died to live?
It's unfair.

All my husband and I did for the first year is sleep and wander the house. We both felt we could only see our son while we were sleeping. It was the only time when it felt like he was still with us. The dreams always ended the same though, with an innocent child lying in a blue silk-lined casket.

We couldn't live. Life wasn't worth it anymore. The Capitan wanted us back at work, but every time the victim had children, we broke down. We were compromising cases left and right. We had to take permanent sick-leave. George came to our house almost daily to have coffee. We knew he was checking up on us, but we also knew he was concerned.

This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we'd be held.

Then, almost by accident, God gave us another chance. Natalie was born two years ago. We were shocked to find I was pregnant again. I felt it was God's way of saying sorry, and that he knew we were hurting, and he was still here for us; fixing us when we were broken, mending our broken hearts, and promising us that he was always there.

This hand is bitterness.
We want to taste it, let the hatred NUMB our sorrow.
The wise hand opens slowly to lilies of the valley and tomorrow.

Before Natalie came, my husband caught on to a secret of mine. Every night I found myself sitting at the corner bar, downing the hardest alcohol offered. I would sit in the booth until the owner felt pity on me, and snuck me mineral water instead. I was really smashed one night, the guy was worried so he took my purse from me and he found Elliot's cell number and called him. I went to counseling for a year, and Elliot came as well. We tried so hard to live again, but it wasn't enough. Then, we found the church.

If hope is born of suffering.
If this is only the beginning.
Can we not wait for one hour watching for our Savior?

This last year, Elliot, Natalie and I were all baptized before the eyes of God. I felt this peace in me, and acceptance of my life. Elliot had never been to a Christian church before. He felt that he needed a new view on God. I had never been to church before, but this one seemed to fit us perfectly. I have hope now, that life will be more joyful. I have help now, a hand of guidance, holding me up. I am healed. The Lord is holding on.