This will be a short three-shot instead of a two-shot, and this chapter picks up right where the previous one left off.
Just another reminder that Noah and Jesse don't exist in this story.
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Olivia stares at Amanda without speaking, trying to digest this information that shouldn't come as a shock to her after witnessing firsthand the younger woman's descent into depression over the past few months, but somehow the detective's heartbreaking confession still manages to stun her into silence.
She is overcome with a multitude of emotions that threaten to have her knees buckling beneath their weight; shame and regret for not addressing this serious situation much sooner, other than asking Amanda how she is doing from time to time, along with sorrow and fear for what her friend is having to endure.
Olivia knows how important it is to continue with this conversation and to keep trying to get Amanda to open up to her, but is aware that they shouldn't be doing it here in the doorway of the little bookstore, and looks around the busy street for someplace more private to talk. The sidewalks are congested with groups of people walking in every single direction, the massive crowds entering and exiting every bar and restaurant in sight, and Olivia shakes her head while chastising herself for thinking this was actually a good idea.
"Come on," she says softly, hooking an arm through Amanda's and giving a gentle tug to pull her away from the door. "We're going to take a cab back to my apartment and order dinner in, which is what we should have done in the first place. We need somewhere quiet to chat, and this isn't the spot to do it."
"Liv, I don't want to chat," Amanda protests meekly as Olivia leads her over to the curb with the intention of hailing a taxi, shouldering her way through all of the pedestrians with her detective in tow.
"Amanda, you just told me that you don't know how to live with yourself and you don't think you can even try anymore, so you can't possibly think we'll be going our separate ways after that," Olivia responds in a voice low enough that only Amanda can hear, not wanting anyone else nearby to listen in on their private discussion.
"But I'm so tired." Amanda's tone is broken and ragged, every ounce of the brief amount of energy that Olivia has just observed seeming to drain right out of her, small shoulders slumping and blonde head bowing down. "I just want to relax."
"You can relax at my apartment," Olivia tells her, raising one arm in an effort to flag down a cab while the other remains hooked around Amanda's elbow, firm on the notion that she won't be leaving the younger woman alone anytime soon. "Either that, or we can go to yours."
"How is that going to be relaxing?" Amanda whines in return, sounding both petulant and resigned to Olivia's announcement. "How I am supposed to unwind for the night when my boss is asking me intrusive questions about my personal life and expects me to just spill all of my innermost thoughts? Some things are private, Liv. They're none of your business, okay?"
"Nothing is private when there's the concern of you potentially hurting yourself," Olivia whispers sternly into Amanda's ear, pulling the smaller woman closer to her so they are pressed lightly against each other on the edge of the sidewalk as she continues trying to hail a taxi. "And it most certainly is my business, do you understand me? Your safety is always my business, Amanda."
"I never said anything about hurting myself," the blonde murmurs in protest, turning her face away when Olivia tries to catch her eye. "I just said I don't know if I can try anymore, meaning I'll probably take some more time off work and get away from the hectic pace of the precinct for a little while to chill out at home. Stop reading so much into everything, Liv."
"That's not what you meant and stop trying to pretend otherwise," Olivia hisses as a spike of anger stabs through the intense worry that is threatening to drown her, wishing that Amanda didn't feel the need to blatantly lie and hide things from her. "I really want you to talk to me."
"I am talking to you," Amanda spits out in reply, Olivia feeling relief both at the sight of a cab crawling its way toward them down the jam-packed street, a shrill car horn blaring in the distance, and that some of the younger woman's usual sass seems to be poking out through the anguish.
Amanda's body is rigid beside her own as they stand there hip to hip on the curb while the taxi squeezes through the mass of other vehicles and people, Olivia tightening her hold around the detective's arm and guiding her into the car when it comes to a halt on the road in front of them. She can hear Amanda muttering under her breath about how patronizing it is to be treated like a baby by her lieutenant and that she's perfectly capable of getting into a cab all by herself, a sad smile tugging at the corner of Olivia's lips as she sits down beside her grouchy subordinate.
There are sporadic shades of the old Amanda peeking out from the indifference and agony, and as frustrating as her attitude is, Olivia can't help but be glad to see it. What she doesn't want, however, is for Amanda to keep lying to her about the severity of the depression that has overtaken her these past few months, descending like a dark cloud and so thoroughly obliterating nearly anything other than an all-consuming despair.
As they ease their way into the heavy traffic, Olivia becomes aware that Amanda is shivering on the seat beside her, even though it's quite warm outside and the cab driver has not turned the air conditioning on, a hot breeze blowing through the open windows and ruffling her dark hair. Olivia figures the movement is due to the sudden surge of intense emotions that Amanda hasn't let herself feel for months, instead of actually being cold, and she shifts closer to the younger woman on the cracked leather, wanting desperately to provide some sort of comfort.
Even though Amanda is sitting right beside her, their arms occasionally brushing together, Olivia can't help but feel like she is losing her detective; that Amanda is going to disappear if she takes her eyes off the other woman for even a second. The blonde's hand is laying limply on the seat between them and Olivia carefully covers it with her own, needing that physical contact with Amanda as she squeezes gently, and finally doing what she had wanted to do when they had been walking down the street earlier.
She is surprised when Amanda doesn't instantly pull away from her touch but simply perches there stock-still on the seat, her hand completely frozen beneath Olivia's and her face turned toward the window, long blonde hair obscuring her expression. She feels the other woman's body begin to slacken bit by bit, like a gradually deflating balloon, until Amanda is slumped in exhaustion against the seat and her hand goes limp before slowly turning over so that her palm is pressing into Olivia's.
They remain there in silence for several minutes, hands linked while their driver expertly guides them through the worsening traffic, growling and swearing under his breath and giving a man in the car next to them his middle finger, surprise rippling through Olivia once again when Amanda threads their fingers together. She shifts closer to the younger woman so their shoulders are touching and gives her hand another comforting squeeze, mentally urging the other vehicles to clear a path for them so they can get to her apartment as soon as possible.
She is desperate to keep talking with Amanda about the frightening changes in her behavior lately, as well as what the detective had revealed before the cab had picked them up, tears unexpectedly pricking at her eyelids as she thinks of everything that Amanda has been through since Esther Labott's death. Olivia releases a shuddering sigh, not realizing how loud the sound was until she feels Amanda's penetrating blue eyes resting upon her face and the younger woman squeezing her hand lightly.
She gives Amanda a brief, tight smile before turning her head away to gaze out the opposite window, blinking rapidly against the welling tears and determined not to start crying while in the presence of their taxi driver and her subordinate who is already dealing with enough of her own issues. The guilt and worry and fear that she feels for Amanda's precarious mental state is a tidal wave of emotion that is threatening to crash over her and pull her under if she doesn't get control of herself very soon, and she tries as hard as she can to hold it all in.
"Damn it!" the man behind the steering wheel suddenly yells, slamming his hand down onto the dashboard and making Olivia jump in response, snapping her out of the daze she has fallen into and instinctively wrapping an arm around Amanda's shoulders to keep her safe.
There is no threat either inside the vehicle or outside of it, though, the driver muttering something about idiots who are blocking the road and causing an even bigger traffic jam and immediately pulling out his cell phone when they have come to a complete stop in the middle of the street. Olivia rolls her eyes when she sees that they are entirely boxed in on every side, horns blaring and people screaming out their windows at one another, and spotting the problem up ahead when she sees that the traffic lights are out at one of the intersections.
Their driver is complaining very loudly into his phone about being late for his dinner date because everyone in New York is completely inept, and Olivia throws Amanda a cautious glance when she realizes that her arm is still looped around the blonde's thin shoulders. Amanda feels very small and fragile in her embrace, the weight she has lost over the past several weeks becoming even more apparent now that they are cuddled so closely together, and Olivia frowns at her in concern.
They stare at each other for a moment without speaking when Amanda meets her probing gaze, brown eyes boring intently into blue, and Olivia can see the same tears brimming on Amanda's lashes that she can still feel hovering on her own. She tightens her grip on the tiny frame of the detective, murmuring "It's okay, honey" in a nearly inaudible whisper, even though she knows it couldn't be further from the truth; that nothing is even remotely okay right now.
"I'm fine, Liv," Amanda whispers so faintly that Olivia almost doesn't catch it, and she has to stop herself from snapping back at the younger woman, knowing that her response is just something that has been ingrained in her over the years and is likely automatic; a habit she does without thinking, and one that she herself has just done as well.
"You're not fine, Amanda," she whispers back vehemently, placing a hand on the blonde's leg and rubbing gently. "Please stop saying that when it's obviously not true."
Olivia's heart is aching as she watches a tear slip from one big blue eye, trailing a wet pathway over a pale cheek as Amanda turns her head away in apparent shame, her body trembling more vigorously now. This is the first time she has seen the other woman cry since breaking the news that Amanda's bullet had been the one to kill Esther Labott, and there is a tight coil of both relief and pain residing in her chest as she tilts her head to get another look at the blonde's face.
"It's okay to cry, Amanda," Olivia assures her in a hushed tone, grasping onto her knee and giving it a tender squeeze. "It's good to see you letting a bit of emotion out. It's not healthy to keep everything all bottled up inside."
"I don't like...feeling things," Amanda chokes out through a panting breath, like she is struggling to take in enough air. "It's better when I don't feel anything, when I'm just numb and nothing hurts."
"It's not better, sweetheart," Olivia insists firmly, throwing a glance at their driver and pleased to see him still on the phone and not paying one bit of attention to Amanda's impending breakdown in the backseat. "You need to keep acknowledging what you're feeling and stop trying to convince yourself and everyone else that you're fine. What's happening here is very dangerous Amanda. You've pretty much given up on everything and admitted that you can't live with yourself. We need to get you some help as soon as possible, honey."
Olivia feels the immediate tension in Amanda's small frame as she utters those words, the detective going rigid in her embrace and her breath coming out in short, wheezing gasps. "I don't need help, Olivia," Amanda whimpers in panic, the younger woman struggling against her now as shaking fingers fumble with the handle on the door. "I just want to be left alone."
"Stop that," Olivia commands gently as she attempts to block Amanda's imminent escape by reaching around the shuddering body beside her and holding onto a slim wrist. "Why does the prospect of getting help scare you so much, hmm? It's okay to seek help when you need it, Amanda. Sometimes you have to let someone else take over for awhile; to let go of everything that's been eating you up inside and unburden yourself."
"Hey, what's going on back there?" a rough voice suddenly demands, and Olivia looks up to see suspicious dark eyes regarding them in the rear-view mirror. "Don't even think about getting out of my cab without paying me. You're not getting a free ride here, ladies."
"What ride?" she hears Amanda mumble snarkily under her breath. "We're not even moving."
"Of course we're going to pay you, sir." Olivia rushes to ease any doubt and anger that is brewing from their driver when he turns around in the front seat to spear Amanda with a glare, informing them that the traffic jam is not his fault. "And we're not getting out. It looks like we're about to start moving again so we're staying right here, alright?"
"Why is she crying?" The man jerks a thumb in Amanda's direction, the doubt and anger melting away to concern as he gazes into the backseat at their entwined forms. "She okay?"
The lone droplet of water that had trailed down Amanda's cheek a moment ago has now turned into a deluge of tears as the blonde detective abruptly dissolves into sobs, her small figure crumpling in Olivia's arms as she rests her forehead against the window. Olivia's heart is breaking as she gathers the quivering form close to her chest, Amanda appearing to be fighting a war with herself as she desperately tries to reign in the anguished cries that are intent on bursting forth from within.
"Oh shit, don't cry, lady, don't cry." The driver looks alarmed before turning back around in his seat to fix his eyes on the road ahead. "Look, the cars are moving now, okay? I'm sorry for the traffic but you don't have to cry about it."
An impatient, frustrated look crosses Amanda's pinched features and she rolls her eyes and opens her mouth, most likely ready to tell the man that she would never cry over a traffic jam, when a low, prolonged wail emits from her parted lips instead, the younger woman covering her face and burrowing into the door. Their driver is mumbling anxious, unintelligible words as the cab begins easing forward again, braced on all sides by cars and trucks and pedestrians who are weaving their way in and out of the slow-moving vehicles as another sharp blast of a horn sounds nearby.
"Oh sweetheart, come here, just look at me for a minute," Olivia pleads softly, trying without success to peel Amanda away from the window and turn her around, her hands rubbing briskly up and down toned arms that are shivering with distress, the tears that had been welling up in her own eyes making a swift reappearance.
She blinks rapidly in an effort to stem the flow of sorrow before she begins crying too, her heart clenching painfully as she observes Amanda slumped next to her like the other woman has completely given up now, tortured sobs echoing throughout the inside of the taxi. Amanda refuses to move even an inch away from the door, and for several minutes Olivia can do nothing more than stroke her hands in soothing circles across the detective's back, feathering her fingers through silky blonde hair as she murmurs softly to the broken woman next to her.
She figures this has been a long time coming; that all of these buried emotions have been steadily building up inside of Amanda over the course of the past few months, and have only become worse the more she tries to bury them and remain numb to the rest of the world. Olivia has been waiting for this to happen; for the damn to finally break as Amanda releases all of those pent-up feelings, but she fervently wishes they were in the privacy of her apartment right now instead of squished inside a cab that is inching its way bit by bit along the traffic-clogged streets, knowing how horrified and embarrassed Amanda must be as she swiftly becomes unraveled.
"I hate this," the blonde mumbles through choked sobs, turning her face just enough so that Olivia is able to get a glimpse of swollen eyes and soaking wet skin, listening to the detective draw in a breath that is hitching with emotion. "It's too much. It hurts too much, Olivia. I want it to stop. I just need it all to stop."
"I know it hurts, honey," she whispers as a tear of her own breaks free and sneaks down her cheek before she can wipe it away. "But it's better like this. I'm glad you're finally letting it all out. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but this is good for you."
"It's not good." Amanda is stumbling over words, her voice so clogged with agony that Olivia can barely understand what she is trying to say. "It's not better. I can't stand this. Esther won't get out of my head and I need it all to stop."
Olivia can see that the younger woman is quickly spiraling out of control, Amanda hyperventilating loudly as slender fingers claw at her own throat as if in a desperate search for air, their driver once again making his concerns known, and she opens her mouth to continue trying to soothe the detective in any way that she can. Before Olivia is able to begin speaking, her hands still caressing in soft circles around Amanda's back and reaching up to glide her fingers through long strands of hair, doing everything possible to bring her friend some comfort, Amanda is murmuring something in a nearly inaudible tone between labored breaths.
"I can't deal with this anymore; the guilt, the regret, the sadness. If I didn't have Frannie to take care of, I'd..."
"You'd what?" Olivia prompts in a fearful whisper as Amanda trails off without finishing her sentence, her heart thumping with dread and a chill running down her spine. "If you didn't have Frannie to take care of, you'd what?"
Amanda has fallen utterly silent now, even her sobs coming to a complete halt, and she simply sits there beside Olivia on the seat without moving, her shoulders hunched and blonde locks hiding her face. The interior of the cab has lapsed into an eerie quiet as the vehicle stutters to a stop yet again on the busy street, their driver staring at them in the rear-view mirror with his mouth slightly agape like he is transfixed by the extreme display of emotion in his backseat and doesn't quite know how to respond.
"What were you going to say?" Olivia prods very gently, trying to keep the panic from her voice as she awaits an answer, her breath catching in her throat when Amanda finally spares her a glance and she gets a look at the detective's tormented expression, those large blue eyes holding a depth of pain that she has never seen before.
"Nothing," Amanda murmurs after a long, expectant pause stretches out between them, and before Olivia has time to react, the younger woman is flinging the door of the cab wide open, sliding quickly from the scuffed leather seat and disappearing into the crowd.