A/N: Here it is, the last chapter! I hope you guys like it, and I'd appreciate it so much if you would let me know what you think of this chapter or the whole story or whatever. At the moment I still don't really have any ideas for Fin (I only saw that Rage episode once, a long time ago, so I don't really remember his role), but if I do I will write a chapter from his POV. This is my second POV piece (the other is I Can't Do This, about Alex), and I might try to do more, like for Olivia. Check back if you are interested!

I could go on about Elliot for hours. Hell, I could give you an hours-long list of adjectives describing him without going into any stories or examples. To tell all those, I would need a lifetime.

If I had to pick only one word to encompass Elliot, however, it would be hope. I don't think there's a member of SVU who does not value hope about everything else. There's not much else, really. We can't be happy if we don't have hope that we are helping, that the world isn't as bad as it seems…we can't keep going if we don't have hope that we are going to make a difference.

Elliot is my hope. I couldn't do any of this without him. I don't know exactly what I think about religion…I've never been sure about God or anything like that…but the fact that Elliot does believe in God really helps me. I trust Elliot, and I trust his judgment. If he thinks there's someone bigger than us out there, watching over us, I trust him. Even if I can't feel it for myself.

After the hardest cases, Elliot only has to smile at me and I go weak at the knees. I find some level of peace in the knowledge that he can still muster up a smile, and that he bestows such an amazing gift on me.

He is such a good man. I know as well as anyone, better than most, the way rage takes him over. I stopped being scared of him a long time ago…I know he would never be that violent toward me, or his kids, or anyone who isn't a perp. And I also know that really he shouldn't let himself get that out of control, but I won't condemn him for it. I can't.

Lots of cops are accused of police brutality, and lots of us are guilty of it. I'd venture to say that all of us go too far sometimes…but some cops are worse than others. Some might rank Elliot at the more violent end of the spectrum, and sometimes it does appear that way. He's almost killed lots of perps…but what exonerates him is the way he handles victims and their families.

There's a reason cops have a bad reputation. I'm sorry to say it, but there is so much abuse of power going on out there that it's sickening. There are cops that will turn anything into assault, as I experienced firsthand in Oregon when I was collared for assaulting a police officer when I never touched him. Sometimes, the assault is legitimate and should be reported, but Elliot picks his battles.

Asking parents for DNA samples when we investigate the rapes of their children is never pleasant. I'm rarely turned against, probably since I'm a woman, but Elliot has been punched, slapped, kicked, and otherwise brutalized. He just takes it. He understands what it is like for them, because he is always thinking how he would react if we were investigating something that happened to Maureen, Kathleen, or Lizzie. He could easily have collared dozens of distraught parents, friends, and spouses for assaulting him, but he never even considers it.

I remember the first time something like that happened. It was the case with the dirty cop, Ridley, who killed all the prostitutes. Elliot and I went to the girl Tracy's house, and we had to tell her parents the connection between the victims. Her mother stared at Elliot for some of the longest ten seconds of my life, and then she slapped him across the face.

He didn't even flinch. I knew it was coming. He must have too; you could see it in her face. After the echo of the smack stop ringing in my ears, I looked sideways at Elliot, knowing that he was in pain. Not from the slap, but from empathy. And it was never a question, he was never going to retaliate against her. He just took it. Not many people would do that.

Another side of him that not many people see is his incredible tenderness and compassion. Sometimes he cares almost too much, and you can see his heart breaking.

There was this one case when I got slashed between my neck and my shoulder. The perp had been aiming for my throat, but he missed since he was running at the time. Luckily. Elliot was terrified when he found me. I had never seen his eyes so scared. I could actually feel his horror. He pressed his fingers to my neck, trying to stop the bleeding until the paramedics got there. I didn't lose that much blood, and the wound was really only superficial, so I got some stitches and was released.

I went out into the waiting room and looked around for Elliot. He wasn't there, but then an elderly woman asked me if I was looking for the handsome man in the leather jacket. I said I was, and she said he had been in the restroom for twenty minutes.

I thanked her and almost sprinted to the men's room, going in without hesitation.

Elliot was at a sink, washing his hands for what must have been the thousandth time. His skin was red and raw.

"Elliot…stop," I said, turning off the water. My eyes were filling with tears.

"I can't…it won't come off," he said softly, not looking at me.

"It's off," I whispered, knowing him to be talking about my blood. "It's gone." I took his hands in mine and brought them to my lips. "Sweetheart," I murmured against his knuckles.

"I'm sorry, Liv," he whispered back, his voice catching in his throat.

"It wasn't your fault." I wanted to take his pain away however I could, so I did the first thing that came to mind. I kissed him. Our first kiss.

Elliot's damaged, just like the rest of us. We once joked that only messed up people end up working at SVU, but we both realized we weren't kidding. It's why we are all so close…like those charms on bracelets and stuff with the two halves of a broken heart that fit together. We complete each other, and the line separating us as individuals is blurred…if it's even there at all.

As a result, I can't keep a secret from Elliot to save my life. He knew I loved him almost from the beginning, and I knew the feeling was mutual. It was complicated…he was married, and I didn't want him to divorce her. I couldn't do that to their kids. I didn't always get along with Kathy, but I know she is a good mom, and Elliot is an amazing dad. I didn't have that, and there is no way I would take such a blessing from them, or jeopardize it in any way.

When Kathy initiated the divorce, though, I couldn't stop myself from being happy. The kids were older, moving out, and they wanted their parents to be happy.

Elliot and I waited a while, but then we acted on the feelings we'd been suppressing for years…acted on our love. It was…incredible. I'd never felt so alive. So hopeful. I finally had a future. Before Elliot, I saw no way that my life would change. I would be alone, working for SVU, losing more and more of my sanity and happiness every day, for the rest of my life.

Now I have Elliot. I'll still continue working for SVU…I couldn't quit even if I wanted to…and it will still be hard. I know that being in love with him won't make the cases stop raining down, won't make the pedophiles disappear, won't improve the human race…but it's enough to get me through. I have the strength to keep going, I have hope at the end of the day. I couldn't ask for more.