You brought me to God and I put you through Hell

You were all about us, I was all about myself

What kind of man would lose a woman like that?

If my soul could be forgiven, I would give it all back

Bailey Zimmerman "Religiously"

She stood, hand outstretched, waiting. He knew he should refuse. He shouldn't drag her into the messy vortex of his life, but her plea speared his heart. He could never say no to her. For better or for worse, she held his heart in her hands.

He swallowed back the emotion building in his chest and grasped her outstretched hand. He would never understand her perfect, unwavering compassion wherever he was concerned. God knew he didn't deserve her.

His hand remained in hers for the duration of the ride to her place. The low hum of the radio was the only sound as he watched the city lights with unfocused eyes. He knew she wanted to talk, to say something, but he couldn't. He knew if he opened his mouth, he would say all the wrong things. When it came to Olivia, he never seemed to get it right.

He could feel her eyes on him, but he couldn't meet her gaze. If he did, he might melt into a puddle of emotion in her front seat.

The air felt thick, but not uncomfortably so. He didn't mind the silence. There was a strange sort of comfort in sharing the silence with her. Maybe it was the years of late nights in the precinct or hours-long stakeouts in a squad car; either way, there was some level of peace in the stillness.

It wasn't until he found himself standing behind her while she fiddled with her keys that he realized the implications oof her cautiously extended invitation. Olivia had invited him to spend the night at her place.

He knew he wouldn't push his luck. He felt fortunate that she had extended the offer. God knew he didn't want to be alone tonight—just him and the haunting memories. His heart swelled. He knew this required an astronomical amount of trust on her part. He wouldn't make her regret it.

As they stepped into the dimly lit apartment, he grasped her hand. She spun around, her eyes questioning. He squirmed nervously under her gaze. "Thanks for this, Liv. I…I…" he sighed and rubbed his free hand on the back of his head. "I really didn't want to be alone tonight, and this... you..." he struggled to put together a coherent thought.

She squeezed his hand, and smiled gently. "I get it. I'm happy you're here too."

She dropped his hand and stepped further into the apartment, flipping lights on as she went. She dumped her purse on an accent table, and Elliot noticed Noah's backpack discarded carelessly beneath it. "Where's Noah tonight?" He wondered out loud.

"He had a dance competition. Normally I would go, but work…"

He understood. He couldn't count the number of missed events because of work. Hell, if tonight taught him anything, it was that he wasn't present. Ever. "I get that."

She looked over her shoulder, and he knew she could see right through him. In a world where his every choice and every intention were questioned, she always saw all the things he tried to hide.

She had been on the path to the refrigerator but rerouted back towards him. She read something in his tone, and she wasn't going to let it go. "What else happened tonight, El?"

Her brown eyes continued peering into his soul, and he found himself shifting nervously, as if he could hide the truth from her. His eyes dropped to the floor, unable to meet her ever perceptive gaze.

"Elliot," she said, her voice warm and low. Affectionate.

Tears stung his eyes. When would he be able to give something back to her? When would he stop being the nonstop mess she faithfully cleaned up time and time again? He didn't deserve her, but he couldn't make himself walk away. He did that once, walked away for her good, but it backfired so badly that he still dealt with the repercussions.

His silence worried her further, and she stepped closer. "Why?" He finally asked.

"What?" She seemed genuinely confused.

"Why do you keep picking up the pieces every time my life shatters?" He chanced a look up. Empathy. She had always been the embodiment of empathy.

She took another two steps. She stood just within reach, but neither of them moved. "You're… you're my partner…that's what we do."

"That's…" he rubbed a hand over his face. "That's what you do. Don't you see it? I'm never..." he groaned. "I'm dead weight that you continue to lug around."

Her face registered a strange combination of anger and sadness. "You can't believe that," she whispered.

He resisted the urge to step away, and leave her apartment so he wouldn't continue to hurt her. All he ever did was hurt the ones he loved. Tonight that became intensely clear.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath as she stepped fully into him, hugging him tightly.

"For better or worse," she whispered.

"What?"

"A long time ago…" she swallowed back her own emotions. "You told me we were partners for better or worse."

"I think I forfeited your obligation to me when I left." The tears he'd tried to control began flowing down his cheeks. "It seems like I provide a lot more "worse" in your life. In everyone's lives, really."

Her hand rose to his cheek, and her thumb lightly glided over his cheek bone. "What else happened tonight?"

"Um." He closed his eyes, but the tears refused to stop. "Family dinner, uh, my brothers. They were in town to see mom, and the kids were there, and..." he shook his head. "And I did what I do best; I f-ed everything up."

She waited, and he knew she expected more of an explanation. "I was on the phone all night. This operation went down, and they're my squad, you know how it is. I couldn't just leave them, especially when shit hit the fan."

"But I had Randall telling me details I didn't know about my own kid, and Eli told me that I wasn't present. I guess I never have been." He felt himself unintentionally lean away, as if his own shortcomings could contaminate her through proximity. "And I'm just..." he dropped his head into his hands. "Growing up, I thought I was so persecuted, you know. I thought I took the brunt of my father's anger, but," he felt himself begin to pace. "But," he said, feeling his chest tighten. "He beat the hell out of my mother, Liv. He beat her, and I never knew. Randall did what he could, but I did nothing." He stopped and braced his weight against the couch's back. "Apparently, I let down every person I ever cared about. Apparently everything I thought I was doing right was actually wrong. I was never there for the kids. I wasn't there for my mother. My wife." His voice cracked, "And you. I wasn't there for you."

"You did the best you could." He could tell she was trying to reassure him, but he couldn't be reassured. He failed every person he ever cared about, and he hated himself for it.

"Did I? Or did I just bury myself in the job at the expense of everyone I loved?"

He felt her eyes look him over, and she sighed. "Sit," she said as she motioned for the couch.

When he didn't move, she grabbed his hand and led him around to the front of the couch. Once they were seated, she took his face into her hands. "I need to tell you something, and I need you to actually hear me, okay?"

He blinked away more tears, but nodded his head.

"You, Elliot Stabler, are a good man. Not a perfect man. A good man." Her fingers remained lightly pressed against his cheeks. "You are an amazing father. Not perfect, but amazing." She took a nervous breath and continued. "If Noah had a father like you..." she brushed the thought away. "What I'm trying to say and what I'm trying to help you realize is that even if you're not perfect, you are worth loving. You're worth knowing. I thank God or the universe or whatever every day that you came into my life, and…" she stammered, "and that even though you left…you came back." Her eyes remained steadfastly on his face, but his vision blurred with the nonstop assault of tears. "None of us are perfect, Elliot," she blinked back her own tears. "But that doesn't mean…it doesn't mean that none of us are redeemable." His breath caught in his chest when she moved closer, her cheek pressing against his cheek. "You are incredibly loyal." Her lips ghosted his ear, making a warm shudder vibrate through his body. "You're brave." Her lips brushed his cheek in something that could only be seen as the lightest of kisses. "You're devoted, and once you're in, you're all in."

She pulled away, and he missed the warmth of her breath mingling with his. She watched for a beat before asking her question, her voice quivering, "Are you all in Elliot?"

He held her gaze, wanting her to see the sincerity of his next words. "I've always been all in with you," he answered softly. "I'm here, and I'd rather die than leave you again."

"Good," she answered before pressing her lips to his.