"I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies

I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife"

-Take Me to Church, Hozier

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Morning

He's a wreck. He's spent almost two weeks in a stupor, drinking himself unconscious, then sobering up long enough to talk to IAB, then sitting in his car outside Olivia's apartment and gripping the steering wheel so hard he thinks it'll break or his hands will because he needs to see her but he's scared.

She hasn't spoken to him since that night when she was understandably shocked and scared and Cragen warned the whole squad to stay the fuck apart until after IAB was done interviewing them and Liv was a witness, not the shooter, so he's sure she's long finished with the interviews, but she must assume he's still going through it - and she's assuming correctly - and so she's respecting Cragen's order and waiting for him to call her.

But fuck he needs to see her, to hold her, to touch her and know she's really unharmed because he did the unthinkable, he shot a child, and he can excuse it and rationalize it and make it look like a fucking public service to IAB and Kathy and anyone who asks, but he can't lie to himself. He's been here before, faced this situation before, he's made the same choice before, and he knows he'll make the same choice a million times over.

He will always always choose her. Over the public, over his family, over a child's life. Jenna and Ryan, both dead because he couldn't risk his partner. He wonders how many more there will be because there will be more because he will never not choose her.

It doesn't matter what IAB says, he knows he's guilty. He knows that it was fear and not judgement that led him to pull the trigger and end Jenna's life. He knows he probably could have talked her down and he knows that Liv definitely could have talked her down once he started and then Liv and Jenna would have both been ok, but if Liv had tried, Jenna might have aimed at her and he couldn't take that chance.

He finally gets what he's been waiting for, after eleven days, his timing is finally right, and he sees her leaving her apartment, in sneakers and shorts and a tank top and her hair is pulled back in a ponytail and he knows she's going to the gym and he has to follow her. She looks so damn good it hurts and he feels the familiar twinge of guilt, a double-edged sword because he shouldn't feel that way about another woman when he's married and because he feels like he cheated on Liv with Kathy when things were finally evolving between them, when he'd stopped taking the divorce as a personal failure and signed the damn papers and realized the divorce gave him a chance to actually be happy with Olivia and of course he fucked that up.

He starts the car, starting to pull out into the street to trail her, and he hopes she doesn't notice because he doesn't want to scare her and he tells himself he's just making sure she gets there safely because New York can be a dangerous city. It's ridiculous and he knows she's armed, and that she's capable of defending herself, but he's a pro at rationalizing things, especially when it comes to her, and he just needs to see her and know that she's alive and safe and unharmed after that night and there's nothing wrong with watching her and protecting her as long as no one knows.

As he's waiting outside her gym, he's telling himself he's going to pretend it was an accident when she emerges and he's going to offer to drive her home and talk her into having lunch even though they're not supposed to be talking and she'll give in because she always gives in when she thinks he needs her and he does need her. The gym windows are blacked out saving him the moral dilemma of watching her which he knows would cross the line into creepy and so his eyes wander the block, watching the families out on Saturday morning and seeing the kids playing on the corner and his eyes fall on a group of nuns approaching the car and he sees their rosary beads in their hands and he can't turn his eyes away and he realizes they're probably headed for the steps of a church halfway down the street but he's staring and one of them notices him and her eyes lock on his and he feels like she's staring back, like she knows, like she's judging him, and her fist wraps around the beads in her hand and her lips are moving in a silent prayer and he feels guilt slam into him.

He murdered a child.

And he's stalking Olivia.

He leaves half his tires behind as he guns the accelerator and races away from the scene of the second crime, he can't sit there and plot a way to spend the afternoon with Olivia while there's blood on his hands. He can't taint her with his sin.

He doesn't even know where he's going, but he just keeps driving aimlessly. He can't go home, he can't face Kathy's gentle prodding to talk about it, he can't face his children after what he did, he can't face himself after why he did it. He finds himself in the parking lot of his church and it's Saturday so he knows Father Hogan is there for confession and he needs to be absolved and he desperately wants that feeling of a fresh start, but he suspects there's no way for him to ever be absolved. Still, if his priest says it's possible, then maybe he can be saved, maybe he can believe he'll eventually feel better.

He doesn't head for the confessional. He stands just inside the doors, his hand hovering over the holy water, wanting, needing, to bless himself, but he's terrified suddenly that the water will burst into flame, that the whole church will, like in a cheesy horror movie, but he reminds himself this is what he's here for, he wants to be washed clean and he has to believe that it's possible and he has to be sorry and he is so, so sorry. He's able to cross himself without any supernatural fireworks and he genuflects and slides into the very last pew because he's too much of a sinner to feel comfortable moving further inside.

He's the only one there and he's sure Father Hogan heard his footsteps because the older man steps out of the confessional only a moment after he's taken his seat. Elliot can see him smile his greeting as he walks over, but he can't return the smile, can't tear his eyes from the statues, the painted eyes of the saints who all seem to be judging him like the nun.

The priest takes a seat in the row in front of Elliot and he breaks the silence with a gentle voice. "I'm glad to see you, Elliot. I know you've had a hard few weeks."

He wants to scoff, to answer with a sarcastic quip about how much of an understatement that is, but he doesn't because there's a chance this man will help shoulder the guilt and relieve him of his torment and so he nods. He doesn't even mean to, he just starts talking, words spilling out of him unplanned and unexpectedly, revealing details of the case and Jenna and how terrible he feels both about her and about lying to convince everyone it was about the greater good, the safety of everyone in the building. He finally stops, wiping at the tears on his cheeks, and he's waiting for his priest to say something and he's hoping it's not an invitation to leave because he needs to be relieved of this guilt and this is his last hope.

And finally, Hogan collects his thoughts and turns halfway toward him. "Why did you lie? If not to save lives of others, why did you take the life of this girl?"

His chin is trembling and he knows this is the real sin and the real problem and he doesn't know if he has the strength to give it voice when he could never even say it to her. It takes him a long time, his sobs choking him while he tries to take a breath and he feels so guilty that he can't take it and he reminds himself why he's here. "I had to protect Olivia." He's waiting for lightning to strike him dead after he gives voice to his thoughts and he's waiting for the accusing stare of the priest and nothing happens.

In fact, Hogan looks confused by the admission. "You were protecting your partner, Elliot, why do you feel bad about that? I'm sure she would have done the same if your positions were reversed."

Despite the priest's reassurance, despite the lack of hellfire and damnation raining down on him, he doesn't feel any better. Because the act of shooting Jenna wasn't the sin, he realizes, that could have been defensible under the right circumstances. It was the why that is the sin and it wasn't a one-time mistake made under duress, it wasn't harsh words said in anger or losing his temper or pretending to be sick to get out of Mass one Sunday when he was tired. It's a pattern, a long-term truth, and even though he knows it's wrong and that he's here to confess it, he clings to that truth and holds it close and he doesn't want to let it go. He's compounding the lie by his thoughts and actions even now and it occurs to him that as much as he's suffering now, he'll suffer worse for letting it happen again and again.

And finally the truth comes out. "I love her." He doesn't feel lighter for having said it. He doesn't feel better for getting it off his chest. He's confused because even saying it, he doesn't feel guilty for loving her, he feels guilty because he doesn't feel guilty for it.

Hogan nods slowly, his eyes dropping from Elliot's and his fingers fold together as he bows his head as though he's immediately started praying for Elliot's soul. "You should know what your penance is, Elliot."

Elliot shakes his head, his eyes desperately searching for Hogan's because he needs someone to tell him it's ok, but his priest stubbornly stares at his clasped hands. "No, I don't. I don't know what to do."

"You have to walk away, my son, never see her again. You must become faithful to your wife."