To answer/acknowledge reviews I've gotten on other stories (specifically Close Call), nothing has been abandoned. I'm still here, just struggling to get that creativity well to fill up again. Plus, you know, life. Got a few ideas I'm working on (might make this a drabble series, who knows?) but if you have ANY requests—scenes you want to see, concepts, themes, venues, SMUT…. My messages are open or you can find me on twitter at bonosaurus.
Word of caution: I am grossly out of practice. Continue reading at your own risk. :)
"I really fucked up, Frannie Mae."
Amanda's lips twitched in the meager beginnings of smile as her beloved dog eyed her curiously, head cocked, before resting her head against the blonde's knee in a gesture of comfort. Beady brown eyes flickered shut in response to tender scratching behind her ears, and absently, Amanda continued the movement even as she flopped back against the couch cushions. She took another swallow of the beer she'd opened after Fin left, the bitter liquid already lukewarm, willing her mind to go anywhere but Esther.
But it was futile. Every time she closed her eyes, Esther's face was there. She saw her in Jesse's fine blonde hair; in the face of every random stranger she passed on the street on the way home. For as much as Amanda knew deep down that what happened wasn't her fault, the guilt still permeated her. It consumed her. As many mistakes as she'd made, she'd never felt like more of a failure.
She had no way of knowing how long she sat there, one hand absently picking at the label on her bottle, the other methodically petting Frannie, ignoring the persistent buzzing of her phone on the coffee table—with any luck, she thought, soon it'd vibrate off the table and she wouldn't have to hear it anymore—until she and Frannie were both startled by three quick knocks on the door. For a moment, she sat still, debating not answering at all. She wasn't expecting anyone after all, and she really wasn't in the mood for another pity party. But then the knocks came again, louder this time, and Frannie yipped at the door.
"Hush, girl," Amanda hissed. She pulled herself off the couch and hurriedly made her way to the door, muttering under her breath, "I don't know who you are, but if you wake up my kid, so help me…"
The rest of her threat died on her lips as she looked through the peephole and saw who was standing on the other side of the door.
Olivia immediately looked up as soon as the door swung open and if the relief at seeing the blonde wasn't evident on her face, she thought that surely the anxious tension virtually melting off of her body would've given her away. "Amanda," she breathed.
Amanda sighed, turning back into the apartment but leaving the door open in a silent invitation; one which Olivia readily accepted. "What are you doing here, Liv?"
"You weren't answering your phone," Olivia said shortly, her eyes evaluating her detective even though the younger woman couldn't seem to meet her gaze. "I know Fin was here earlier, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Amanda rolled her eyes, fluffing the pillows on her couch just to have something to do with her hands before plopping down, her body practically curling in on itself as a last-ditch defense mechanism against the older woman's persistent and penetrative stare. "What, are you guys afraid I'm gonna eat my gun?" she asked derisively. "Oh wait," she continued, not giving the Lieutenant time to respond. "I can't anyway; IAB took my service weapon," she finished flippantly.
"That's not funny, Amanda," Olivia chastised, her voice a harsh whisper, betraying the truth of the hurt she felt for the younger woman. She shook her head, sloughing off her jacket and draping it across the back of one of the kitchen chairs before joining her detective on the couch. "We're just worried about you; we care about you."
"Well, I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine," Amanda groused. She reached for her forgotten bottle of beer, the Georgian buried deep inside of her thinking fleetingly that she should offer the brunette a beverage, before stubbornly taking a swig of her own drink and remaining silent.
"I don't think you are fine," Olivia argued gently. She was careful with her tone, afraid of aggravating the other woman and causing her to retreat further within herself. "And that's okay," she added. "Because no one expects you to be."
The brunette took a chance, extending a hand to rest on Amanda's knee over the fabric of her robe, pleased when the younger woman made no moves to pull away.
She watched Amanda worry the fabric of her throw blanket between her fingers, one shoulder lifting in a half-hearted shrug, "Look, Liv," she started, briefly meeting warm brown eyes before forcing herself to look away once again. "I really do appreciate you coming by." Amanda smiled tightly at the Lieutenant's murmured of course. "But as soon as IAB clears me, I'm gonna talk to Olivet...get the psych eval done. Standard procedure, right? You don't have to shrink me."
Almost feeling wounded by Amanda's interpretation of her attempts at comfort, Olivia slowly retracted her hand, leaning back toward the opposite end of the couch and running a tired hand through her hair. "That's not why I'm here, Amanda."
"Then why are you here?" The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it and she sat frozen, watching a dozen different emotions play out across the older woman's face. Maybe she hadn't intended to be so blunt in her delivery, but she did feel it was a valid question. If anyone, she expected Carisi to make a house call before Olivia would—mainly because it seemed like the brunette had been distancing herself again as of late. As much progress as they'd made in their relationship—both on and off the job—it still felt like Olivia was holding her at arm's length most of the time. She was a fish swimming against the current, and she was exhausted.
"To do what I should've done earlier in my office," Olivia said succinctly, breaking into Amanda's thoughts. She stood, and for a moment Amanda wondered if she'd finally pushed the other woman too far.
The brunette held a hand out to her expectantly, watching as blue eyes darted between her own brown ones and her outstretched hand.
"What are you doing?" Amanda asked curiously.
Olivia rolled her eyes. She reached down and took Amanda's hand, pulling her up from the couch. "Just... come here."
Before Amanda could say anything else, the older woman pulled her into a warm embrace; one that she immediately melted into. She couldn't have stopped herself if she tried. Blue eyes drifted shut as she felt one arm wrap around her back, while Olivia's other hand held her head against a soft, warm shoulder. Tears she had been keeping more or less at bay all evening bubbled up to the surface and her breath caught as she succumbed to Olivia's touch; a touch that felt so familiar, and yet so foreign at the same time.
Her body shook with the force of sobs itching to break free, and almost of their own accord, her hands came up to clutch at the sides of Olivia's blouse, the material bunched between her fingers so tightly she felt sure it would wrinkle and stretch beyond repair.
Amanda had no concept of time; had no idea how long Olivia held her in her arms before she felt warm breath against her ear, the whisper of lips against the skin of her temple. "I am so sorry, Amanda," Olivia muttered.
Amanda's face crumpled at her superior's apology and almost instantly, her knees buckled underneath her weight, Olivia's hold on her body tightening in just enough time to keep her from falling to the ground. Carefully, the taller woman maneuvered them to where, as gently as she could, she fell to the couch cushions, cradling Amanda's grief-stricken and battle-weary body against hers.
"Let it out, Amanda," Olivia soothed.
"I killed her!" The blonde's weak voice was muffled against her neck and thick with tears, the salty rivulets spilling out against tan skin and sliding down to saturate the collar of her shirt. "She needed my help and I killed her…"
"You didn't mean to, honey," the Lieutenant reminded her. Her fingers scratched comfortingly at Amanda's scalp while her other hand rubbed smoothly along the younger woman's arm that was draped across her torso.
There was part of Amanda that was embarrassed, even ashamed, at losing it in front of her boss like that— especially for the second time in one day. She hated getting emotional; hated to show weakness. Even more so in the presence of someone who's strength she had always admired and tried to emulate. But she couldn't help herself; couldn't control the harsh sobs that were being ripped so violently from her throat, her voice was likely to be hoarse when all was said and done.
"It wasn't your fault," Olivia affirmed. Unconsciously, the brunette leaned down and pressed her lips to the detective's heated skin, feeling the younger woman's body slowly begin to calm from the violent shudders and shakes that were wracking it only moments before. "You did everything you could to help Esther, Amanda. She knew that. This was an accident, okay? It wasn't your fault."
Gradually, the scene in Amanda's living room calmed to where Frannie's snores were the most prominent sound in the room, followed closely by the loud ticking of the grandfather clock that was Grandma Rollins' most prized possession. Lingering hiccups and sniffles from the blonde had given way to deep, steady breathing, and if it hadn't been for the fingers playing with the soft material of her blouse, Olivia would have thought the detective against her had fallen asleep.
It was ages before either of them spoke a word beyond Olivia's comforting whispers. When she did, Amanda's voice came out as more of a croak, and she cleared her throat before trying again. "Do you really believe that?" she asked softly.
Unseen by Amanda, Olivia's brow furrowed in confusion and she continued the motions of her hands against the detective's back as she replied. "Believe what, honey?"
"That she knew I did everything I could to help her," Amanda said. "That that's all I was trying to do."
The sheer sadness and dejection in the younger woman's voice broke Olivia's heart, and she pressed a kiss to the side of Amanda's forehead before whispering firmly, "Yes, I do."
She felt Amanda release a sigh against her, and it was quiet for a moment before the other woman spoke again. "I'm sorry," she said, beginning to pull away. Amanda glanced at the clock. "You probably need to get home to Noah… I shouldn't have—"
"Shh.." Olivia cooed, pulling the blonde back against her before she could get too far away. "Noah's fine—"he's asleep. I came here because this is where I need to be," she reassured the younger detective, giving her a small smile. "Let's just stay like this awhile, okay? Just relax; fall asleep if you want to...if you think you can. I'm right here."
"But…"
Olivia shook her head, reaching up to push stray bangs out of Amanda's face and behind her ear instead. "No 'but'," she smiled softly, sadly, as Amanda regarded her—the longest stretch that the other woman had been able to maintain eye contact since she'd arrived who knows how long ago. The blonde looked so vulnerable, so tired—physically and emotionally. And still, Olivia could see that same determination in her features; the desire to prove she could face this alone despite so plainly wanting to give into the comfort and solace being offered to her. "Just rest, Amanda. Let me be here for you."
Amanda's chin trembled at the tenderness, despite her best efforts not to visibly react, and she finally gave in. Both women squirmed slightly as they adjusted their positions, Olivia settling more comfortably into the couch and Amanda fitting herself against the older woman's body, her head finding a comfortable perch in the crook of the brunette's neck.
Olivia rested her chin against the top of Amanda's head, whispering soft words of comfort as once again, she felt the detective's body deflate against her own.
As Amanda let her eyes fall shut, the lieutenant's arms around her and her hands running a rhythmic pattern that would have her fast asleep in no time at all, the younger woman sighed. "Love you, Liv."
Yay? Nay?
PS: the title comes from an IG poet (wilderpoetry). In full, it reads: "I will show her the flowers, and when she speaks of their beauty I will point to the clouds - everything grows from the things that fall and there is nothing that the sun can't heal if you let it." I thought it was beautiful and connected well with what I was trying to accomplish. :)