This story takes place in season 13, a few months after Amanda transferred from Atlanta, and is a different, darker take on how things could have gone following her arrival. I'm not sure how long this fic will be just yet, but it likely won't be longer than a few chapters.
Frannie doesn't exist in this story.
Trigger warnings for mentions of rape, gambling addiction and alcohol abuse.
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Amanda Rollins is dead.
Or at least that is how she feels on the inside; like a body without a soul, slowly rotting away while she goes about her daily routine and presents the usual content, charming mask to the world that hides the devastation, the insecurities, and the complete and utter darkness that has taken up residence within.
The gambling addiction that is growing stronger by the day, combined with the memories of what her former deputy chief had done to her back in Atlanta as well as her insatiable desire for any type of alcoholic beverage, are threatening to swallow her whole. She has been drowning in a sea of immense sorrow and shame and regret, and cannot seem to fight her way back to shore no matter how hard she tries, the solid ground that she so desperately seeks nothing more than a grain of sand in an ever-widening ocean of despair.
The transfer to New York had done nothing to curb the bad habits or intense flashbacks that have been plaguing her life for months now, barely pulling herself together enough to do her job; the one she had worked so hard to get, the one she had fought tooth and nail to keep when it had been in jeopardy due to her superior's contemptible actions.
When Amanda allows herself to go back to that time and place and think about all that had transpired; the things she had done to save her sister and to hold onto a job that she had wanted more than anything in her life, the ensuing wave of anguish is so all-consuming that the only way to obliterate it is through gambling or booze, the two vices that are teaming up to wreak even more havoc on a life that is already in shambles.
She is all too aware of just how far she has unraveled these past several months, hanging on by the thinnest of threads to what is left of her sanity as she goes about her days chasing suspects out in the field and listening to horrendous stories of rape and abuse from their victims. The calm demeanor that so carefully disguises the hidden chaos is immediately shattered upon leaving the precinct each day, left up to her own dark devices until the next morning when she has to do it all over again; the pretending and the faking and the deception, showing her perfect, unperturbed face to the world.
Amanda is an expert at this kind of thing; the ability to act like all is just fine and dandy when that couldn't be further from the truth, this particular farce coming as natural to her as breathing. She has been doing this for her entire life, although never more so than since she has come to New York, and probably should have become an actress instead of a detective, as that is where she truly excels; her skill set in this area second to none. Amanda is aware that she has been slipping up a bit more lately, though, and resolves to watch herself carefully, having caught Olivia Benson throwing her an odd look from time to time, the older woman occasionally appearing to be on the verge of asking her something before apparently deciding against it.
She has very mixed feelings when it comes to her beautiful co-worker, as Olivia was quite a legend in her mind when she had been working in Atlanta; Amanda following the brunette detective's career with an intensity that had bordered on obsession. Olivia has more than lived up to her legendary status in the months they have been working together, even going so far as to surpass how highly Amanda had already thought of her, secretly admiring the other woman's ability to so seamlessly combine the tough and tender aspects of her personality while dealing with victims and suspects alike.
She has long tried to emulate Olivia's admirable qualities in her own work, and would be devastated if her colleague ever caught on to just what a disgrace Amanda actually is, waking up in a pool of her own vomit more often that not after spending half the night at the local bar, screaming at the television as the team she is rooting for loses once again and sends her plummeting into a pit of despair. Money slips through her fingers like water and she couldn't hold onto any amount of cash if her life depended on it; gambling is in her blood and has been passed down from generation to generation until it had inevitably reached her and wrought its own unique brand of destruction, only growing worse with the abuse by her deputy chief and her insatiable need for anything in a bottle.
The fact that Amanda has been able to hold onto her job for this long is a miracle in itself, and having to work side by side with Olivia everyday is a special kind of torture, as she both idolizes the older woman for the incredible work she does and is head over heels in love with her on a more personal level, catching occasional glimpses of the vulnerability that lies beneath the smooth exterior. She longs to know Olivia on a level that goes much deeper than that of merely co-workers or even friendship, but her rather unhealthy extracurricular activities have prevented this from happening as of yet, as well as how closed off Olivia seems to be most of the time, the other woman likely dealing with her own demons along with their heavy caseload and not having time for much else.
Today in particular has not been a good day, as Amanda is nursing some very nasty bruised ribs, the injury a product of a drunken fall off a bar stool the night before, prompting the bartender to kick her out amid shouts and catcalls from the inebriated men gathered around her as they had watched the game. Her only saving grace is that it's nearing the end of the workday on Friday and she has all weekend to recuperate if she can manage to just stay home and not get into any kind of trouble. But trouble has a way of finding her, even when she isn't going out of her way to look for it, and she figures Saturday and Sunday will end up being just as eventful as they usually are.
After saying goodnight to her co-workers and wishing everyone a great weekend, Amanda is standing outdoors on the sidewalk, trembling fingers trying to light a cigarette that she can enjoy on the walk back to her truck, the slight movements causing her to wince in pain and emit a small gasp as she accidentally drops the cigarette to the ground.
"Lose something?" a gentle voice suddenly asks, an olive hand reaching up from below to hand the cigarette back to her, Olivia Benson having bent down and snatched the object right out of thin air, rescuing the item and returning it to her before it could hit the filthy sidewalk.
"Yeah, thanks," Amanda mumbles in surprise, reaching out to take the cigarette from the taller woman and a spark of electricity running through her limbs when their fingertips briefly brush together.
"Those things will kill you, you know," Olivia replies lightly as she arches a dark eyebrow at her, Amanda rolling her eyes in return and balancing the cigarette between her lips as she lights it.
"So I've been told," she mutters wryly with a careless shrug, taking a deep, grateful drag and blowing a ring of smoke into the air. "If you're so worried about them killing me, why'd you save it from falling into the street?"
"Because you looked like you were already having a bad enough day," Olivia says softly, Amanda blinking in consternation as she meets the brunette's steady gaze and notices how closely she is being observed. "Seriously, though, Rollins, it's a terrible habit. It'll take years off your life."
"And that's such a bad thing?" Amanda chuckles humorlessly, flicking a bit of ash off the end of the cigarette and inhaling again, Olivia's strides matching her own as they begin walking down the street together. "If you think this is terrible, you should see my other habits."
The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them and it feels like a brick has lodged itself inside her throat as she throws a swift glance in Olivia's direction, the senior detective gazing at her with an unreadable expression on her face and a slight frown marring her perfect features.
"What are you doing tonight?" Olivia questions abruptly, causing Amanda's eyebrows to raise high on her forehead in response to the unexpected inquiry. "Do you have any plans?"
She neglects to mention that her only plan had involved drinking the large bottle of vodka that is waiting for her on the kitchen counter, hoping to get blackout drunk so she can obliterate the horrific memories that have been playing on a loop inside her brain all day, but simply shaking her head without comment.
"Do you want to get something to eat?" Olivia asks as she gestures toward a nearby restaurant, Amanda's heart leaping with both hope and confusion, as the other woman has never taken much of an interest in her before.
"Yeah, sure," she replies casually, trying to keep the enthusiasm from her voice as she tosses her half-finished cigarette to the ground and they head toward a little Italian place that Amanda has passed by a million times on her trek back and forth from the station but has never gone inside.
"Sorry, I didn't think to ask if you even like this kind of food," Olivia says with an apologetic smile when they are seated in a booth near the back of the small room and a waiter is handing them a couple of menus.
"I'm fine with pretty much any kind of food," Amanda answers as she meticulously peruses her menu despite not having much of an appetite, again neglecting to add that most of her meals lately have been consisting only of alcohol.
There is a beat of awkward silence and she looks up to see Olivia gazing intently at her, a slight blush spreading across Amanda's cheeks at the intense amount of scrutiny that is currently being trained upon her. "What?" she murmurs in apprehension, shifting uncomfortably in her seat and trying to decide if she is enjoying the attention that Olivia is focusing so acutely on her or if she just finds it unnerving; either way it is definitely not something she is used to.
"I just wanted you to know that I've noticed how gingerly you've been moving around today," Olivia responds in a careful tone, a smooth olive hand sliding atop Amanda's pale one on the table, her skin feeling like it is about to burst into flames beneath the other woman's cool palm. "Did you hurt yourself, Amanda?" There is a short pause after Olivia chooses to use her first name in an apparent effort to be more intimate with her, the dark stare that is fixed upon her only intensifying as they gaze unwaveringly at one another, brown eyes locked onto blue. "Or did someone hurt you?"
"Oh, I see what this is," Amanda replies quietly, disappointment coursing through her system when she realizes that Olivia had not asked her out for a meal to initiate any kind of friendship between them, or perhaps even something more. "Your motive for inviting me to dinner was to find out if someone is abusing me?"
"This isn't the first time I've noticed this kind of thing," Olivia says softly, Amanda's hand going still beneath the older woman's fingers just as she had been about to pull away from the concerned touch of her co-worker. "There have been other days where you seem to be holding yourself very carefully, like you're in pain. I know what goes on in your personal life is none of my business, but well...I've been worried about you and wondering what's going on."
Amanda is momentarily at a loss for words as she digests this new information; at once panicked and horrified that she has not been hiding her alcohol-induced injuries as well as she had previously thought, but stunned and curiously elated that Olivia is worried about her. She knows that any inclination she has to confide in the brunette has to be immediately squashed, as she can't risk losing her job and any respect that Olivia might actually have for her by revealing how she has been choosing to occupy herself when she's not at the precinct.
"Would you believe that I'm just clumsy?" Amanda murmurs with a self-deprecating shrug, giving Olivia's fingers a quick squeeze before removing her hand from the table and placing it in her lap.
"Nope, I wouldn't believe it," Olivia answers very seriously, that penetrating dark gaze so laser-sharp that Amanda is forced to look away. "You can take down suspects twice your size in a split second and I've never seen someone who is as good of a shot as you are. Do those sound like things a clumsy person would be able to do?"
Amanda is floored at the unexpected compliments from a woman she has idolized for such a long time, but the warmth that floods through her is swiftly chilled at Olivia's next words. "That being said, you've seemed a little off lately, not quite as on point with things as you usually are. I need you to be honest with me here, Amanda. Is someone hurting you? Is your boyfriend doing this to you?"
"My boyfriend?" Amanda sputters out an incredulous laugh, never having been shy with her sexuality before and certainly not about to start now, although she is unable to get an accurate read on Olivia's, no matter how hard she tries. "I'm gay, Liv. Never had a boyfriend and never will."
If Olivia is shocked by this revelation, she doesn't show it; the older woman's features remaining smooth and unruffled, the impenetrable mask fixed on her face that she wears when they are trying to get a confession from the toughest of suspects and she doesn't want to tip her hand. "Well, your girlfriend, then?"
"I'm as single as they come," Amanda answers blithely, amused and flattered that Olivia thinks someone would actually want to date a piece of trash such as herself, as she has fucked up every single relationship she has ever had in her life; whether it be of the family, friend, or romance variety.
"Are you sure you're not fishing around about who I'm dating for a different reason?" she continues in a joking manner, partly to lighten the mood and direct the conversation away from topics that she would rather avoid, and partly because she is genuinely curious about the mysterious Olivia Benson and wants to learn more about her.
Amanda wilts somewhat under the hard stare that Olivia is piercing her with now, feeling chastened for goofing around in such a somber situation and coming to the realization that she is not going to receive an answer to that particular question; not that she has really been expecting one, anyway.
They are interrupted by the waiter approaching their booth to ask if he can get them anything to drink, and Amanda accidentally swipes her fork off the table and onto the floor as she flips quickly through her menu for the beverage that had caught her eye while she had been searching for something to quench her thirst. She points the drink out to the waiter and Olivia chooses one of her own, the young man smiling politely at them and promising to be back with their beverages as soon as possible.
Amanda can feel her fork lying on the marbled floor right beside her left foot and she leans down to pluck it from the tiles, figuring she can ask for a new utensil when their waiter returns with their drinks. She momentarily forgets how much her ribs are still aching from her fall off the bar stool the previous night, and it is all she can do to keep from screaming as she settles upright into the seat again, her entire midsection feeling as if it is on fire with the small amount of movement.
Amanda is unable to maintain her usual stoic composure and winces sharply, letting out a low moan of agony as she hunches over in the booth, both palms sliding up to grasp onto her ribs as if she can somehow hold the excruciating pain inside merely by the grip of her hands. Olivia's smooth mask slips from her face right away, the other woman regarding her with barely disguised alarm now, and before Amanda knows what is happening, the brunette is up and out of her seat and gently grasping onto her arm.
Amanda lets herself be pulled to feet and guided toward the nearby bathroom, knowing that she needs to put a stop to her colleague's actions and just make some excuse to leave and go home. Instead of trying to explain that she is fine and would rather not continue on with their dinner date or whatever the hell this meal can be classified as, she swiftly finds herself locked inside a tiny stall with Olivia, standing so close to the taller woman that they are breathing the same air and the front of their bodies are practically touching.
"Show me," Olivia commands softly, gesturing down to Amanda's blue silk blouse that she had donned for work that day, and the brunette's voice is filled with such tenderness and concern, the look in her eyes so compassionate and soothing that Amanda doesn't think twice before untucking her shirt from her dress pants and lifting it up slightly to expose the pale skin of her belly.
She knows the bruises span the majority of her torso, as it was quite a hard fall and has wondered if she had actually cracked a rib or two in the process, Olivia's sharp inhale of breath confirming how bad it must look now that the wounds have had a chance to settle in and become more pronounced. Amanda shivers when she feels the other woman's fingertips grazing her bare side, nodding in wordless consent when Olivia grasps onto the hem of her blouse and tilts her head in question before pulling the garment higher so it is resting just below Amanda's bra.
She is so entranced by the woman in front of her that she doesn't know where to look or what to do as Olivia examines her body with the same intense scrutiny that she had displayed outside the precinct and at the table, the blue and purple bruises providing a splotchy and colorful palette across her otherwise unblemished alabaster skin. Amanda is aware that she has now opened up a Pandora's Box of sorts that won't be easy to close again, allowing Olivia to peer so intimately at not only her body but also the contents of her head, as the behavior she has been engaging in lately, as well as the horrific flashbacks she has been suffering are right there on the tip of her tongue, ready to be confessed.
"Amanda, I think you need to see a doctor." When Olivia's quiet words shatter the heavy silence between them, she is immediately gripped by sheer panic at the prospect of a medical professional seeing her in this condition, and the likely ensuing consequences.
"No, that's not necessary," Amanda protests instantly, yanking her shirt back into place with enough force to make her wince again. "It was just a fall, Olivia, that's all. No one is hurting me, I promise."
"Your ribs could be broken," the older woman continues in a low tone, a hand coming up to flutter through Amanda's long blonde locks, sweeping a curtain of hair over her shoulder and then giving it a light squeeze. "You shouldn't be working in this condition."
"Well, since it's now the weekend, I won't have to worry about work until Monday," Amanda replies firmly, determined not to go any further down this road, chiding herself for letting Olivia see her like this and for even entertaining the thought of confiding in her colleage. "I'll be fine, Liv. You don't need to worry about me."
Amanda is stunned when the taller woman doesn't say another word but instead wraps strong arms around her back and pulls her into a tender embrace, holding her so delicately against her chest like she is a fragile piece of china in danger of shattering. Her eyes slip closed as she rests her head on Olivia's shoulder, shocked when she feels the pinprick of tears pushing at the inside of her eyelids, as despite how utterly wretched her life has become lately, she can't remember the last time she has actually cried; never shedding so much as a single tear in her intense and all-consuming misery.
This situation is completely foreign to Amanda; the waves of compassion and concern she can feel radiating from Olivia's warm body, and the somewhat disconcerting way that she wants to snuggle closer to her fellow detective instead of pulling away and fleeing the room. She is so used to dealing with things on her own and can't allow herself to become too attached; to risk putting her job in jeopardy and opening up to the one person she admires and looks up to more than any other, a person she loves.
Although Amanda is intent on ignoring any of the intense feelings that are steadily trying to break through her normally impenetrable facade, the electricity she feels thrumming just beneath the surface of her skin is undeniable; an unfamiliar sensation that has eluded her for the large majority of her life thus far but is rapidly enveloping her entire body as she stands there cocooned in Olivia's safe embrace.
For the first time in as long as she can remember, Amanda Rollins feels alive.