A/N: Learning from the tears and the mistakes, We're not perfect but we've come such a long way (Soldier - James TW) This chapter is inspired by Olivia Gatwood's poem, If There Were a God.

DISCLAIMER: SVU and all related plot/characters originally belong to Dick Wolf. This story is allllllllllllllll mine. © TStabler

He's staring at her through the open door. He can't help it. In the way she moves, the way she walks, the way she holds their victim's hand and reassures her that everything's going to be okay, he sees beauty. He sees the gifted spirit his unborn child will inherit, he sees an angel on Earth, he sees everything good in his life, and he mumbles a quick prayer thanking God for her and apologizing for everything he's ever done wrong in his life.

He folds his arms and leans against the wall of the hospital, scrapes his teeth across his lip, and thinks. She's made him more aware of the world around him, more grateful for every bit of it. He uncrosses his arms and shoves his hands in his pockets, his right fingers fiddle with a cross-shaped keychain as he mentally thanks God for smaller things like eighty-degree weather and fir trees, subway musicians, doctors and nurses, teachers and librarians. He thanks God for the parents who raised those people, or for giving the ones without good parents the strength to do things on their own.

He says a silent prayer, thanking God for the million reasons he has to be thankful, and suddenly he squints his eyes. He hears the beaten, battered woman in the bed say something to Olivia, something that strikes him to the core because he remembers Olivia saying the same thing years ago.

"Why," the woman cries, she shakes her head. "If there were a God, why would he let this happen?" She sniffles and shrugs, and she says, "Or she. It. Whatever."

He holds his breath because usually, he's the one with the rhetorical religious vernacular, but the vic has requested he stay out of the room. He chews on the inside of his cheek and he waits, unblinking eyes on his partner. On his wife. On the mother of his children.

Olivia smiles as she squeezes the woman's hand. "This isn't God's fault, and it's not a way to prove or refute His existence. This happened because a very sick, very dangerous man refused to take no for an answer and that is not your fault. None of this is your fault." She takes a breath and says, "I wasn't always quick to believe in God, in goodness. But I do like the idea of being able to thank someone…" she stops and she smiles. "Thank God you survived this, thank God that you're going to get through this, and you will be so much stronger," she nods once and says, "And thank God you have me, and my partner, working on this because we are going to find him, and we are going to make sure he pays for what he did to you."

The woman breaks down and cries a little harder as she nods and she squeezes Olivia's hand.

Beyond the door, Elliot smiles. He falls in love with her all over again and his arms fold again, one palm falls over his tattoo as he sends another prayer up to God and Jesus. He takes a breath and turns, and he's about to head for the nurse's station to check on the kit when his phone rings. He checks the number before he answers, wary from the morning's rude awakening, and he sighs as he taps the button. "Yeah, Morales, what d'ya got?"

Olivia comes up behind him as he's listening intently to what Morales is saying, and she watches with a confused expression on her face. One hand falls to her stomach, her queasiness settling in, and she looks around, the sterile hallway and ambient noise bringing up countless memories. She remembers every victim, every story. She remembers every perp and every trial. She remembers names and faces she wishes she could forget, she carries the pain of each survivor. She blinks herself out of her thoughts and she feels his hands on her shoulders.

"Hey, you okay?" he asks, running his hands down her arms. "You need to go to the…"

"No, no, I'm fine," she says, shaking her head. "What was that all about?" she points to his phone.

He shoves his phone in his pocket and lightly shoves her, getting her to walk with him as he talks to her. "That number, uh, it was linked to a bouncing signal, and right now there's no way to tell who it was. I couldn't even tell by his voice, he was using one of those machines, he sounded like fucking Darth Vader." He coughs once as he steps with her over to the nurse's station, and he leans against the curved wood of the counter. "It was bullshit, anyway, we know no one was following you. I just figured Morales could find out if it was Porter, or whoever's fucking around with us."

She smooths out the creases in his grey lapels, offering him a smile. "You wanted to protect your family, there's nothing wrong with that," she tells him. "You know he's not finished, don't you?" She tugs lightly on his tie. "Morales looks up to you, he wants to do right by you. He's gonna wait until no one is watching him, and he'll use, uh, less legal methods of tracing that number."

He chuckles and nods, knowing that his friend has secrets and ways of getting information that the department doesn't know about. With a wink, he drags his fingers along the hem of her shirt. "This looks adorable on you," he tells her, and he means it.

She rolls her eyes as she flicks her bangs out of her face, and she says, "You'd think I look cute in a garbage bag."

He thumbs the edge of her blue tee-shirt again as he laughs, and says, "Yeah, you would, though." He makes eye contact with a nurse and calls her over, but looks back at Olivia and says, "I don't know why you felt the need to change. You looked perfectly fine in that white…"

"It kept riding up," she interrupts, and she pulls on the sleeves of her jacket. "I'm still wearing my suit, but that shirt wouldn't stay put."

"Because you're having a baby," he says, and he practically feels his eyes light up as he adds, "My baby." He leans in and kisses her forehead, but moves back as the nurse makes her way over. He nods and smiles politely, then says, "Everything bagged up for us, yet?"

The nurse nods and slides him a cardboard box filled with sealed bags and plastic vials. "All set on this one, but the other one is gonna be a while. You can wait in the lounge if you want."

They share a questioning look with the nurse, and then one with each other, and Olivia's the one to ask the question. "Second one?"

The nurse hands her a clipboard and says, "She came in while you were questioning Miss Danes," she taps the board. "Sign please?"

Olivia narrows her eyes as she grabs the pen, but before she signs the log, she gasps. "Elliot," she breathes.

"What?" he replies, moving closer to her. "What is it?" He looks down at what she's been staring at and he slaps a hand over his mouth.

"Barton," Olivia mutters. She scrawls her signature in two separate boxes. "Where is she?"

"Exam room three," the nurse answers quickly, "And I hate that you know exactly where that is." She takes the clipboard back and sighs.

Olivia looks at Elliot. "I'll go," she tells him. "As much as she wants you, I really don't think she's up to seeing you, right now."

He nods at her as he licks his lips, and just as soon as she rounds the corner down a different hallway, he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He sees a couple of nurses shooting him dirty looks, but they all know that cops are an absolute exception to the "no cell phone" rule. He gnaws on the lower inside bit of his lip until someone answers, and he snaps as soon as they do. "Me again, listen, I need you to pull all your white rabbits out of your hat and find this bastard for me." He closes his eyes. "I don't think he was threatening Liv, I think...I think he was threatening anyone he thinks would get in her way."

He listens to Morales for a while longer, then he says, "Whatever you have to do, man. Thanks." He hangs up and turns, clenching his fist and keeping himself from punching a hole in the closest wall. "Damn it," he spits, and then he turns. "Michelle," he calls to the nurse again, and when she steps up to him, he asks, "Who came in with her?"

"Um," the young woman turns toward a small computer and types a few things. "Officer Stephen Garcia and two EMTs," she says, "But the phone call I got told me to give the kit to you guys."

"Phone call," Elliot repeats, surprised. "You, uh, you have the number of the guy that called?"

"I should be able to pull it up," she says as she presses buttons on the multi-line phone on the desk. "We store numbers for twenty-four hours, and this was only...yeah. Here ya go," she scribbles it down on a yellow sticky note and hands it to him. "I remember the time because I had to write it down in the report for the kit."

"Thanks," he says with a smile, and when she walks away to tend to other things, he looks down at his cell. He fires off a text to Morales before he types the number into his search engine, in case he's wrong. In case it really was an official call. His eyes widen and he runs toward exam room three as he rushes to call another number.

He hopes Cragen will answer the phone.

A/N: Oh no. Poor Barton! This one is winding down soon...