Something I Would Have Never Seen

Symbolism

Gilligan's Pub
Staten Island
Two weeks after Lucy's release from psychiatric care

One of the trade mark rules for being on medication was not to consume alcohol. This was true for things like laxatives and heart attack prevention meds, but it sounded scarier for antipsychotics.

Though perhaps bitterness was a side effect of medicine as well, because the beer bottle Lucy was nursing tasted even better for spite reasons.

Not that there was much alcohol in it to begin with; she was rebellious, not stupid. She just wanted a simple moment of peace and independence without a doctor -- or lately an SVU squad member -- trying to run her life like she was an invalid.

A bottle of fruity flavored water being placed in her eyeline broke her out of her thoughts. Blinking, Lucy looked up at the bartender who had put it there.

"Courtesy of him." The man nodded behind her.
Looking over her shoulder, Lucy's confusion quickly turned into irritation. She whirled back around. "Go away, stupid Flanders."

Dominick Carisi Jr., a man newly recruited to the Manhattan SVU squad not long before Lucy's commitment, smiled and slid onto the barstool next to her.
"I'm just trying to be nice, Ms. Collins."
"Don't you have cannoli to make?"
"Oh, I don't make it. My ma does."

Indeed, Sonny had been bringing homemade connoli into the office in an effort to win over his coworkers. They had been on the table when Lucy had been found in Philadelphia, and were quite good, not that she was telling Sonny that.

Lucy didn't really have a reason to hate Sonny. He had been a bit of a jerk upon their first meeting, but had softened over his time with the squad. Maybe it was the fact that he was a new person she could project her anger onto, and he let her. Maybe it was just his stupid moustache.

"What self respecting Italian can't cook for himself?" Lucy took a gulp from her beer, pointedly ignoring the water bottle still in front of her.
Sonny only chuckled. "There's more to life than dessert, Ms. Collins."
"Says you." Lucy replied petulantly.
"Is that why you're drinking a chocolate beer?"

Green eyes flickered down to the label on the bottle in her hand. Lucy had come to this bar because they offered beer from obscure independent brands. Standard alcohol bored Lucy; she didn't have the money for anything fancy, and the cheaper stuff reminded her of her (not)father.

"Lay off you waste of a mustache."
Said mustache twitched as he smirked at her. "You want a ride back to your place?"
"No, I wanna stay here and drink."
"Oh com'on. It's late, and Liv'll have my ass if I leave you to walk home in the dark."
"It is Saturday, I am not going home. I'm having a night out on the town."
"It's Sunday now actually." Sonny said, glancing at the silver watch on his wrist. "And if you wanna see the town....well, we're in my neck of the woods, how's about I show you around?"
******
Lucy hadn't been sure what she was expecting when Sonny said he'd show her around. Sure, the man was a Staten Island native, but --

"A church? Really? And you wonder why I call you Flanders."
Sonny roller his eyes at the comment, but his gaze was sincere. "Look, I only know bits and pieces of what you went through -- and I'm not looking to pry -- but you seem like you could use something sturdy to lean on."
"I've already heard the God saves speech; it's kinda staple in therapy."
"I'm not trying to convert you or anything." He shrugged. "I just figured, this is what helps me. Maybe it can help you too."

Lucy sighed and looked around. The building was quiet, but there were the odd few praying in the front pews, and she saw a homeless person sleeping in one.

The building itself was beautiful. High arches, intricate stone work, and stained glass that must have looked amazing in the daylight.

She said none of this to Sonny however. "Why are there so many candles? Are Catholics really that far back in the dark ages?"

"It's symbolic." Sonny informed. "Like those over there --" he gestured to a shelf full of tea light candles by the door. "are for asking the congregation to pray for somebody."

"Turn up the volume to God?"

"Sure, something like that. Ya know, I lit one for you when you were missing."

"...You did?"

Sonny nodded. "I could tell how much you meant to the rest of the squad, I heard good things about you, and I wanted you to be okay." He smiled at her. "And you were."

Lucy stared at the shelf for a long minute. She walked towards it, unwittingly pulling Sonny with her as she had not let go of his hand since he had begun leading her.

There was a long matchstick in a bowl of sand by the candles, and Lucy picked it up with her free hand. Sonny watched with interest as she borrowed the flame from one of the candles and used it to light up several rows. He counted silently; she had lit 23 candles.

Her hand hovered over the sand as she was about to snuff her tiny flame. He watched her eyes gleam over the candles before seemingly coming to a decision and lighting a 24th.