And now I'm in this cold bright light

And this don't even feel like life

'Cause I don't have the only woman who believed in me

Religiously

And now I'm in the back of the church

Praying just to stop the hurt

'Cause I don't have the only woman who was there for me

Religiously

"Religiously" Bailey Zimmerman

-000-

Elliot always tried to be a good man, but somewhere deep inside of himself, he knew he never would be.

He stood in the back of the church, situated just inside the shadows. He watched the other patrons with their hands clasped in prayer and wondered if they were like him. Damaged. Sinful. Irreparably broken.

He didn't have a chance. Not really. Fate gave him a beautiful mother, but one that didn't often dwell in reality. Add to that an abusive alcoholic father with loose moral code, and Elliot was screwed. Doomed from the beginning. Cursed from birth.

It wasn't surprising that his seventeen year old self clung to the pretty blonde girl willing to give him everything. But fate struck again, and his fun loving girlfriend became a teen mom. She wasn't ever quite the same after that. Neither of them were.

He'd never regret any of his kids. Never. But sometimes he wished they had come at a different time in his life. He was just a kid with lots of anger, who wanted to be nothing like his old man. He tried doing the right things, but ended up like him anyway. Married and in love with someone else.

He knew his situation wasn't exactly the same. Joe pursued anything in a skirt. Elliot only wanted one woman, the problem was, it wasn't his wife.

With a sigh he meandered his way towards an empty pew, far from the other patrons. He made the sign of the cross before clasping his hands and bowing his head.

His mind felt muddled, and the sanctuary of the church provided little comfort for his restless soul. The words of prayer evaded him. All that filled his mind was the words of a confession, made over and over during his years at SVU.

I love her. She's not my wife, but I love her. I…can't help it.

The priest's recommendation was always the same. Give her up, and love your wife. He could never do it. Until he did.

He gave her up, and wrecked them both. For those ten years he told himself if Kathy was happy then he was happy. He shouldn't worry about Olivia. She wasn't his. She never had been, and there was a possibility she never would be. He told himself she would find someone who would love her completely. She deserved more than his divided heart. She deserved everything.

He gave Kathy everything he could for those ten years. He wanted her to be happy. After all, it wasn't her fault her husband had such a treacherous heart. He gave her everything. He sacrificed his life and Olivia, and Kathy was happy. But he could never feel completely happy. Not without Olivia.

The flickering candles caught his eye. The small flames danced against each other as the white wax dripped slowly down the sides. The dim lighting stood in striking contrast to the bustling city on the other side of the door. He knew it was meant to be peaceful, but peace evaded him.

Even with ten years and ocean between them, his soul called for hers. Loving her was instinctual, primal. It came a deep place inside of him, and he couldn't contain it. Maybe that made him wicked. Maybe he was destined for hell. Maybe he was already there. He couldn't think of a better punishment. His wife died leaving him free to love the woman wanted for twenty years, a woman who persistently kept him at arms length.

Not that he could blame her. He abandoned her.

You were the single most important person in my life… and you just…disappeared.

Tears stung his eyes as he remembered the hurt and betrayal bleeding from her dark brown eyes. His wife lay dying down the hall, but his focus, his attention, his love, centered on the woman who always held his heart.

He dropped his head into his hands that rested on the pew in front of him. He made a mess of everything. He always did. Like a bull in a china shop, everything he touched, everything he cared about, crumbled around him. Searing pain ripped through his hopeless soul, as he bit his lip, holding back his inevitable tears.

He kept his head down, but he sensed someone settle in the same pew not far from where he sat. He fought back his irritation. There was entire church full of pews and this person felt the need to encroach on his space, on his silent wallowing.

He resisted the urge to life his head and glare, after all, he was at church, and glaring people down wasn't exactly what Jesus would do. He kept his eyes closed and continued to rest his head on his clasped hands.

He ignored the presence to his left, and tried to reclaim he scattered thoughts. He tried to figure out what he wanted from God at this point. Absolution? He didn't deserve it. He deserved every ounce of guilt clenching his heart. Tears pressed the corners of his eyes as he considered the mess he had made, the people he'd hurt. The list was a mile long, and making amends felt…impossible.

The person near him shifted their weight around, and he felt the warmth of another body as the person slid closer. He lifted his head slowly. He felt self-conscious of his tear stained cheeks, but curiosity over his uninvited companion won out in the end.

A pair of brown eyes stole the breath from his chest.

Without a word she slid up next to him, and laid a hand on his back. Her body sat flush with his as she leaned down to meet his gaze. "Hey," she whispered.

"Hey," he rasped in response. He pressed the back of one of his hands to his eye, trying to wipe back his tears. "What are…what are you doing here Liv?"

Her hand remained in his back, but she rested her head lightly on the back of his shoulder. "Jet called," she said simply.

He nodded. If anyone would get concerned enough to call Olivia…it would be Jet. "Didn't think she'd actually call someone." He figured if she called anyone, she would have called one of the kids, but perceptive as always, she called the one person he really needed.

A hand scrubbed his face as he tried to push away the nonstop parade of horrifying memories of the day. He felt triggered. He knew the night would be filled with nightmares, fueled by his PTSD. He couldn't go home, so he found himself here.

Her palm rubbed lightly over his back. "I'm glad she did." She leaned closer, trying to catch his eye. "It wasn't your fault."

Jet must have filled her in on the events of the day. Too bad it was his fault. "She's my sergeant, Liv." His eyes watered, "She's…she's my partner."

Her own eyes glassed with tears. "This is the job. These things happen El. You know that. We can't anticipate every situation." Her large eyes held his, and he the endless compassion of the woman who had always loved him unconditionally.

The flood of feelings hed been dancing around for the evening caught hold of him. He felt his shoulders begin to shake as tears freely dripped to the floor.

Without a thought her arms encircled him. He returned her embrace, burying his face in her hair. "I just," he choked the words out. "I'm just. God I'm sorry."

Her fingers tightened into the muscles of his back. "I know. I know you are," she whispered.

"I just couldn't…"

"I know," she soothed.

And he knew she did. She could always read his mind, and fill in the blanks. She knew they weren't talking about Ayanna. He was sorry about that, but the disaster acted as a catalyst and sent him spiraling down the neverending path of grief and regret.

She held him until his breathing slowed into a calm controlled rhythm. "Can I drive you home?" She finally whispered.

His heart tightened. Home was the last place he wanted to go. "I…no. I'll figure it out."

She pulled away, and her eyes drifted over him. She could always read him like a book. After a moment, she lifted her hand to his face. She seemed nervous. Scared about what she was about to offer. "Come home with me El." Her eyes held his with intensity. "Please."