This story takes place during the season 19 episode "No Good Reason", so please be aware of that if you haven't seen it yet and are trying to avoid spoilers. Noah and Jesse don't exist in this fic, so the whole Sheila plotline does not exist either; I just wanted to concentrate on Amanda's storyline.
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"Are you okay?"
The question that has just been asked with a concerned softness is not entirely unexpected, although Amanda can't help but wish that her lieutenant hadn't spoken at all, as she is dangerously close to the breaking point; her chin trembling with barely suppressed emotion and a well of tears rising in her eyes. She keeps her face pointed directly at the passenger side window as Olivia drives away from Mandy Fowler's home, not wanting to let on just how close she is to completely shattering to pieces; trying desperately to maintain her composure and act like the tough and unflappable detective that she knows herself to be.
Although there have been plenty of cases in the past that have elicited an emotional response, Amanda can usually keep these feelings buried deeply inside and avoid having them rise to the surface in such a physical way, especially in front of her superior. She blinks rapidly as the stubborn tears hovering upon her lashes refuse to subside and is painfully aware that a minute shaking has taken up residence in her limbs, their newest case hitting her harder than she has anticipated and dredging up distressing and unwanted memories of her past.
"Do you want to talk, Amanda?"
Olivia's tone is low and holds that distinct note of gentle kindness and understanding that she reserves for the most fragile of victims, Amanda's shoulders hunching up toward her ears before she can stop them, as if drawing a protective shell around herself that the older woman will be unable to penetrate. She is too ashamed to admit that she wants nothing more than to spill her deepest and darkest secrets to the compassionate woman sitting in the vehicle next to her; that when Olivia had held Mandy so tenderly in her arms inside the teenager's bedroom, she had wished that the brunette had been holding her instead, so hungry for the empathy and comfort she had never received at that age.
"No, it's okay, Liv. I'm fine."
Amanda is quite proud that her voice doesn't wobble when she speaks, although she still cannot turn away from the window for fear of bursting into tears when she inevitably meets Olivia's penetrating dark gaze; knowing that as much as she wants to throw herself into the taller woman's arms and burst into tears, she just can't allow herself to do so.
They are on the job and have to remain the consummate professionals that they normally are, and despite the fact that they have been getting along much better for the past several months and have become quite a bit closer, Amanda is unsure if they can be considered friends just yet. She has moved far beyond the awestruck-fangirl attitude she had arrived in New York with all those years ago, and the somewhat tense and antagonistic temperament that their working relationship had slowly evolved into afterwards, but her admiration and respect for Olivia has never waned even after all of this time; along with her intense desire for a deeper connection.
Amanda is very well aware that the time to make that possibly deeper connection is certainly not now; not during the middle of the workday while making their way through the heavy city traffic in order to pay Barba a visit, and she swallows hard against the golf ball-sized lump that is rising steadily in her throat when she hears Olivia emit a quiet sigh and listens to the gentle words that follow.
"I don't think you're fine," the older woman replies softly, and when Amanda chances a glance toward her boss, she is gratified to see Olivia staring out the windshield in rapt concentration as she navigates her way through the usual chaos of cars and bicycles and pedestrians on the road. She is still trying as hard as she can to control those ever-present tears that are coming precariously close to spilling down her cheeks, and she knows that one compassionate look from the brunette will most likely result in her undoing; one glimpse of those brown orbs all that it will take for the salty liquid to let loose in an unceasing waterfall of emotion.
"I think this case is hitting a little too close to home for you right now," Olivia continues in that sympathetic tone that has Amanda biting down hard on the inside of her cheek as her tenuous grasp of feigned nonchalance is threatening to snap. "The things you told Mandy when we were in her bedroom...I didn't know about any of that, Amanda. I wasn't aware that you had been through something like that when you were younger, or what the significance of your tattoo was."
"Well, it's not exactly something I like to advertise," Amanda answers dryly, the white ink on her arm suddenly feeling like it is blazing a fiery path right into her skin, as if she has just gotten her name tattooed recently rather than a couple of decades prior. "Being called 'Easy-Ass Amanda' was probably one of the nicer nicknames that was bestowed upon me when I was a teenager. It's not something I really enjoy talking about."
"As hard as it was for you to bring up, I appreciate you doing so." Olivia's right hand comes to rest tenderly on her arm, and Amanda is torn between yanking herself away from the other woman's touch and shifting closer to her on the seat. "You were able to form a connection with Mandy and break her out of that unfeeling state she was so adamant on remaining in. I think it was very helpful to her, Amanda."
"Well, that's why I brought it up," Amanda murmurs uneasily, as Olivia begins to rub soft circles into her arm with one hand while the other remains locked onto the steering wheel as she drives. A stray tear escapes from one of her eyes before she can stop it and she quickly dashes it away with her fingers before Olivia notices, determined to hold onto every single ounce of self-control that she possibly can while they are riding in the car together. "I lost one girl five years ago and I wasn't about to lose another."
"That wasn't your fault, Amanda," the lieutenant says gently, and this time Amanda does pull away from the soothing palm that is massaging into her arm, not wanting to spiral down even further into more dark memories that she wishes would just disappear; that particular case having weighed on her mind more often than not in the intervening years and always wondering if she could have done more to put a stop to the tragic outcome.
"Liv...I just...can we not talk about anything right now?" Amanda is practically choking on her words as she speaks in a stuttering voice, desperate to put an end to this conversation before she loses it completely, and is both relieved and disappointed when Olivia puts her hand back on the wheel.
"We don't have to talk about anything you're not comfortable with but please know that you can come to me anytime you need to, alright, Amanda? About anything you want," Olivia confirms softly, and Amanda simply nods instead of replying verbally, as she doesn't trust herself to speak again.
The rest of the trip to Barba's office is made in complete silence, Amanda's fists clenched tightly on her lap as she stares despondently out the window and watches the world fly by in a colorful blur of buildings and vehicles and people.
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Amanda's foot is tapping incessantly against the metal frame of the stool she is slumped on, taking a giant swig from her bottle of beer with one hand while tracing lazy circles through the moist imprint that her drink has left behind on the top of the bar with the other. She has a pretty good buzz going and knows that she should probably slow down with the alcohol since it's a work night, but because their current case has been utterly exhausting and her thoughts are whirling in a constant emotional turmoil, a distraction was very much needed as soon as she had left the precinct for the day.
She can't seem to get her mind off of Mandy Fowler and her own tumultuous and painful teen years, and Amanda is dismayed that the hug between the younger girl and her lieutenant is playing on a neverending loop inside her brain, yearning for some comfort from the older woman and toying nervously with the cell phone in her jacket pocket. Amanda takes the device out and sets it on the bar next to her beer, staring uncertainly at it while debating whether or not to text Olivia as she recalls what the brunette had said earlier about talking to her anytime she wanted.
The alcohol is doing a poor job of acting as the distraction she has intended it to be, and is only making her think even more about their present case; absolutely fixated on the details that are so like that of her own life and feeling disturbingly needy for the physical touch of her boss. Amanda toys with her phone for a moment, spinning the device around and around on the surface of the bar before scrolling down the screen and picking Olivia's name out from all of the others, tapping her fingernail briefly against the protective glass and then clicking on it.
"Hey, Liv," she types out quickly, part of her hoping that Olivia won't answer and another part longing for the company of the older woman; surprised when Olivia texts back right away.
"Are you okay, Amanda? What's wrong?"
Amanda hesitates for a moment, her front teeth worrying her lower lip before typing in a response. "What makes you think something is wrong?"
Again, the reply is lightning-fast, and she takes another large gulp of her beer while reading Olivia's return message. "You don't usually text me unless it's work-related."
"Well, it's kind of work-related," she hedges in reply, startled when her phone begins to ring loudly and Olivia's name is flashing across the screen.
Amanda hesitates once again before picking the phone up and holding it to her ear, giving a weary sigh and trying not to let on that she is more than a little tipsy when she answers. "Hello?"
"Hey." That one simple word of acknowledgment is like a balm to Amanda's soul, Olivia's voice soft and soothing and not showing any sign of the usual stress or busyness that she does at the precinct. "Talk to me, Amanda. I know the situation with Mandy Fowler is getting to you. I saw how upset you were in the car, even though you tried to hide it. Tell me what I can do for you. What do you need?"
The tears come out of nowhere, Amanda's eyes welling up right away and that familiar knot taking up residence inside of her throat again, and it becomes painfully obvious that she has indulged in entirely too much alcohol when the next words come spilling out of her mouth before she can stop them. "I need a hug."
There is a resounding silence on the other end of the line and Amanda mutters several curse words under her breath, internally chastising herself as she rubs a hand over her face in mortification before straightening up in her seat at Olivia's unexpected response. "Okay, Amanda. If that's what you need, I'll give you a hug."
The tears are instantly overflowing down her cheeks at the shocking reply from the older woman, and when she tries to answer Olivia, the only noise that emits from her mouth is a strangled sob. She has dissolved into a blubbering mess right there at the bar in front of all the other patrons scattered throughout the room, so many people drowning their sorrows on a weeknight just the way she is; and Amanda hurriedly fishes some money out of her pocket and plunks it down in front of her before springing to her feet in a frantic effort to escape this humiliating scene.
She can hear Olivia continuing to speak soothingly into her ear, although there is a hint of alarm in the brunette's voice now, the words lost to Amanda while she concentrates on not tripping over her own feet as she hustles as quickly as possible from the bar and swipes an impatient arm over her wet face. Olivia seems to be inquiring repeatedly on her whereabouts, wanting to know if Amanda is at home or if she can come and pick her up from her current location; and despite her extreme embarrassment with the situation, the alcohol appears to win out yet again when Amanda finds herself asking if she can come over to the older woman's apartment.
Olivia agrees right away, that undercurrent of worry still evident in her tone, and Amanda immediately hails one of the many cabs that are traveling down the busy street, stumbling into the backseat and plunking herself down with a sigh of relief. The lieutenant remains on the phone with Amanda throughout the trip to her apartment, talking quietly and reassuringly to her as she tries to get control of herself.
The tears that have begun to subside during the car ride promptly start up once again when she spots Olivia standing outside her building in the chilly darkness, the other woman apparently choosing to wait for her in the cold autumn air instead of inside her comfortable home. She pays the driver and shuffles clumsily out of the cab, Olivia meeting her right at the curb and instantly enveloping her into a warm embrace, Amanda tucking her face into the taller woman's shoulder and trying to contain the sobs that are bursting forth insistently from within.
Olivia holds her tightly in that promised hug, a gesture that Amanda is still in disbelief that she has actually voiced her need for; blaming the copious amount of beer she had consumed at the bar and her disconcerting inability to compartmentalize her life. She is not used to this; the needier and more vulnerable side of her personality that doesn't rear its ugly head too often, and she pushes her face more snugly into Olivia's neck as if trying to hide her tears and pain from the brunette, even though she is currently bawling in her boss' arms and holding onto Olivia like she is her only lifeline.
"It's okay, Amanda, I've got you," Olivia is murmuring gently into her ear, and she feels herself being guided carefully along the sidewalk and into the building, clutching onto the other woman with fumbling fingers as the bright lights of the lobby make her squint sharply in response and a wave of dizziness overtakes her.
There is a sudden urge to vomit that she tries desperately to quell, not wanting her beer to make a gruesome reappearance inside the elevator, and Amanda pulls away from Olivia in order to peel her jacket from her sweating body, leaving her clad in a short-sleeved black T-shirt and a pair of jeans that are ripped at both knees. She can see Olivia's curious gaze wandering down to the inside of her forearm and feels the older woman's tender touch upon her heated skin as soft fingers graze questioningly over the white ink.
"Do you want to tell me what happened when you were a teenager?" Olivia asks quietly, and Amanda nods slowly in tearful consent, finally ready to unburden herself after all of these years.