Just a reminder that I'm doing things a bit differently with this story, as the first two chapters were written from Amanda's point of view, but the previous chapter as well as this one were written from Olivia's. The next chapter will be back to Amanda's point of view.
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Olivia can't remember the last time she has felt quite this awkward.
The elevator in Amanda's building feels even more claustrophobic and uncomfortable than the inside of Mike's car had on their trip here from the sports bar, the three of them crammed together into the tiny, sweltering box that groans and rocks rather alarmingly as they ascend to the younger woman's floor. She had taken this elevator with Amanda after their dinner the previous night and had been so uneasy with the torturously slow process of the ancient machine, getting the sense that they were going to drop suddenly and plummet to their deaths, that she had wisely chosen to take the stairs on her way back down.
That apprehensive feeling is only being made worse by the fact that her colleague is currently plastering herself so closely into the front of Olivia's body that they might actually have merged into a single human being, and her date is standing beside them with his arms crossed and an eyebrow arched. Mike is staring a hole right through their entwined forms, his gaze appearing to be a combination of jealously, confusion and exasperation, and Olivia is guessing that he has gotten much more than he had bargained for after agreeing to pick Amanda up.
"Is she going to be okay?" he asks wearily, gesturing to Amanda's quivering figure and sighing slightly when the younger woman lets out a squeak of terror in response and presses herself impossibly closer to Olivia. "Why is she so scared of me?"
"I don't know," Olivia replies honestly in answer to the first question, but choosing not to address the second as she strokes a soothing hand through Amanda's hair. "I hope she'll be okay once she sobers up a bit."
"Liv, can I give you some friendly advice?" Mike says in a confidential tone, lowering his voice as if Amanda won't be able to hear their discussion if he speaks quietly enough, even though she is standing right next to them.
"And what advice would that be?" Olivia responds tightly, beginning to regret having him accompany them upstairs in case Amanda has needed more support in staying on her feet; his presence starting to grate on her nerves and feeling guilt-ridden for the obvious fear that it's causing the other woman.
"My advice would be not to go down this road with her," Mike continues softly, his green eyes shining brightly with earnestness and concern but Olivia bristling at his words nonetheless. "I overheard your conversation with the bartender on the phone, okay? And I saw the way she behaved in the bar. She's obviously an alcoholic with gambling and anger issues, and it's just not worth it, Liv. Trust me, I've been in this situation before and people like her never get better. They're nothing but mean and selfish human beings, and they suck away every last ounce of your energy and sanity. She's just a co-worker. And one who seems to be a little too attached to you, I might add. She's not worth it."
A large lump has taken up residence inside of Olivia's throat and she finds herself on the verge of tears as she listens to what her neighbor is saying, his words hitting way too close to home as memories from the past are suddenly threatening to drown her. Amanda has gone rigid in her arms and she knows the younger woman is not quite as out of it as she appears to be, since she is obviously listening; Olivia wanting to protect her from the harsh opinions of her date. The gravity of Mike's words are weighing down heavily upon her like that of a physical object, as she knows better than most what it's like to walk beside someone on their long and twisty road of addiction; her own journey only made that much worse by not having a choice in the matter.
Olivia acknowledges that she does have a choice here; that she is an adult now and can choose to walk away before she gets in any deeper than she already has, leaving Amanda to carry on with her own life and deal with her personal demons while she does the same. Only a few short months ago, she had been partners with Elliot Stabler and hadn't even known that Amanda Rollins existed; her world entirely different than it is now. They don't really know each other that well yet, and the small amount of time that Olivia has spent with her colleague outside of work has conjured up many unpleasant memories of the past; memories that she would do anything to forget.
That alone should be enough to put the brakes on this burgeoning friendship or whatever their relationship is turning into; a valid excuse for Olivia to back off entirely and return to her usual days of fighting for victims and mourning the loss of Elliot without having this woman on her mind constantly. But there is something that keeps her feet planted firmly right where they are; a need to be closer to Amanda and provide some comfort and support, instead of pulling away and fleeing to save herself.
Olivia is furious with Mike for talking about Amanda like she is not even here; for bringing all of these delicate and private subject matters to attention when the younger woman is at her absolute lowest and can barely speak up to defend herself. Any hint of sympathy and understanding that she might feel toward him for having walked in her shoes and sharing the agony of a loved one's addiction is overwhelmed by anger and disgust, wanting nothing more than to exit this elevator with Amanda and be free of him.
Her relief is palpable when they finally come to a stop on Amanda's floor and begin the slow process of guiding her safely down the hall to her apartment, Olivia muttering under her breath that they are fine and Mike doesn't need to be here with them anyone. He insists on accompanying them to the door of Amanda's place, still appearing eager to be of some assistance despite what he has just said, and Olivia grudgingly agrees when Amanda loses her balance and almost goes tumbling to the floor before they are able to catch and steady her.
It takes a few minutes to peel the smaller woman away from her body and get her settled on the couch, Amanda still seeming to quake with fear at the close proximity of the opposite sex, and Olivia promising that she will return after saying goodnight to Mike. Keeping Amanda in her peripheral vision as they hover in the nearby doorway, she bids a terse goodbye to the older man and an unenthusiastic thank you for helping them; ducking out of his reach when he holds his hand toward her.
"Can I see you again, Liv?" Mike asks tentatively, Olivia stifling an incredulous snort at this request. "It would be nice if we got to finish our date at some point soon."
"I don't think that will be happening," she replies stiffly, throwing a glance at Amanda's slumped form on the sofa before briefly turning her back on the blonde detective and lowering her voice. "I have to admit that I'm a little confused here, Mike. You overheard what the bartender said about Amanda's drinking and gambling and the way she chooses to deal with the men who hit on her, and that obviously upset you, but you still agreed to drive me across town to pick her up. So what was with that whole speech in the elevator, warning me about her? It seems like you developed some kind of problem with her on the way over here."
"Well, can you blame me, Liv?" Mike hisses quietly, his eyes darting quickly over to Amanda before fixing on Olivia again. "I do have some compassion for people in her situation, but when she's all over my date in the backseat of my car, I tend to take issue with that. And I heard her mention she's gay, so that doesn't make me feel any better about things. Was she trying to make a move on you?"
"She's drunk, Mike," Olivia sighs in frustration and annoyance, wanting this conversation to be done so she can get back to Amanda. "She needed some comfort and I was giving it to her, that's all. And if two women being in such close physical contact makes you feel threatened, then I suggest you leave right now because it's likely to continue very shortly. She's upset and scared and if she wants to be held, then that's what I'm going to do."
Before Mike can respond, Olivia hears a noise behind her and whirls around to see Amanda staggering into the kitchen toward the same giant bottle of vodka that had been sitting on the counter the other night. "We're done here," she snaps curtly, an edge of alarm and finality in her tone. "I'm busy."
"Fine. Good luck, Liv." Mike throws up his hands in surrender and whirls on his heel, the words barely out of his mouth before Olivia is slamming the door shut and rushing into the kitchen.
"Whoa there, I think you've had enough for tonight, honey," she advises firmly, Olivia reaching out to grasp onto both of Amanda's arms as she makes a clumsy attempt to grab for the vodka.
"No such thing," Amanda mutters drunkenly, swaying on her feet and prompting Olivia to wrap a steadying arm around her waist while leading her back over to the couch. "It's never enough."
"You're going to get alcohol poisoning with that attitude," she warns softly, settling the smaller woman onto the cushions and sitting down beside her.
"So what?"
"So you might die." Olivia's eyebrows pull together in a deep frown at Amanda's flippant response to such a serious situation, a stab of pain piercing her heart at the blonde detective's next words.
"Well, I don't feel alive most of the time anyway, so what does it matter?" Amanda's unfocused blue eyes meet her own sharp brown gaze, the younger woman looking as if she is about to say something else but abruptly falling silent.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Amanda," Olivia whispers with great sincerity, gently swiping golden hair away from a flushed face. "I'm sorry you've been having such a hard time with things." She pauses for a moment and peers intently at her colleague. "When do you feel alive? When you're drinking or gambling?"
Amanda shakes her head slowly, leaning into Olivia's touch as she continues to caress a soothing hand over her rumpled hair. "They just distract me, numb me."
"From what?" Olivia prods gently, scratching her fingernails lightly against Amanda's scalp.
"From life," the other woman answers simply with a shrug of her shoulders, the anguish in her expression more than Olivia can bear as her hand drops away and she closes the tiny gap between them, taking Amanda into her arms.
They are quiet for several minutes as they sit there snuggled together on the cushions, Amanda's face buried in her neck once again and Olivia careful not to hold the fragile form of her colleague too tightly, even though all she wants to do is wrap Amanda up in her firm embrace and never let go. Comforting others has always come very naturally to Olivia and the intense vulnerability that Amanda is giving off, combined with some of the things she has learned about her tonight, is just inducing more of a need to provide the younger woman with what she seems to be lacking in life.
Amanda is much more readily accepting of her comfort now than she is while sober, Olivia feeling the weight of the slight form that is cuddled against her sinking even deeper into her body. There is an overwhelming need to protect this woman from coming to any more harm than she already has, Olivia getting the sinking sensation that Amanda has been through an extreme amount of pain in the course of her short lifetime. She knows there is still so much to learn about her co-worker, one layer at a time being peeled away and revealing more about who Amanda is underneath that generally tough exterior, and Olivia resolves to be there for her in any way that she can.
Aware that she shouldn't be pushing things while Amanda is in this condition but curious as to something that was just said, Olivia leans down to get a better look at the beautiful face tucked into neck. "You told me that you don't feel alive most of the time," she says softly, seeking to provide some hope and assurance for the other woman in such a bleak situation. "So what does make you feel alive, hmm? What makes you happy, honey?"
Olivia is shocked by Amanda's reaction to this question, the younger woman immediately going very red in the face and pulling away from her unexpectedly, Olivia reaching out to grab her arm when she almost slips off the couch and onto the floor. Amanda is averting her gaze now, her lower lip trembling like she is embarrassed and about to burst into tears because of it, Olivia very unused to seeing this version of her co-worker; Amanda so bumbling and flustered and unsure.
"Hey, hey, calm down," she admonishes gently, carefully getting Amanda situated properly on the cushions again without causing further pain to her ribs. "Why did that question upset you so much?"
"I- I really like spending time with you, Liv," Amanda stutters out, pink-cheeked with mortification and sounding slightly breathless with shame.
"I like spending time with you too," Olivia replies in confusion, that deep frown creasing her features again as it takes her a moment to understand what is going on here; to realize that Amanda has just answered her question and the two of them spending time together is what makes the younger woman feel alive.
Olivia's breath catches in her throat at this stunning admission and she feels hot tears pricking quite suddenly at her eyelids, overcome with a wave of emotion that she tries to swallow back; those perplexing and complicated feelings that she has for colleague making a swift reappearance. Amanda has stopped with her nervous squirming on the cushions and is sitting there in silence again as she stares at Olivia with those hazy cerulean orbs, her gaze surprisingly intense for someone so inebriated.
"We can start spending more time together, if that's what you'd like, Amanda," she says gently, reaching out to clasp her hand and entwining their fingers together. "I'm glad it makes you happy. I want us to be friends."
"Mike doesn't want you to be my friend," Amanda mutters bitterly, long blonde hair obscuring her expression as she lowers her head.
"Fuck Mike," Olivia responds vehemently, surprising them both with the unusual bad language and the amount of venom that is dripping from her tongue.
"Is that what you're gonna do?" Amanda whispers anxiously, blue eyes huge as she raises her head and they lock gazes again. "Fuck him?"
Olivia can't help but chuckle softly at the wide-eyed innocence of her drunken colleague, reaching out to ruffle her hair affectionately. "No, Amanda, I'm not going to do that. Not that it would be any of your business if I did," she adds wryly, rolling her eyes at such a personal question but feeling the strange need to make it clear to Amanda that she will never be engaging in any kind of sexual activity with her neighbor.
The younger woman's mouth opens like she is going to respond to what Olivia has just said before her jaw snaps closed again, seeming to think better of it. Olivia's eyebrow quirks slightly as she wonders what exactly is going on in Amanda's mind, but deciding to ask a question of her own that has been niggling at the back of her brain.
"Why were you scared of Mike?" she says quietly, giving their joined hands a comforting squeeze. "Did he do something that bothered you? And I mean before he said those awful things in the elevator, which I'm very sorry for."
"I don't like people taking my clothes off when I'm drunk."
Amanda's answer puzzles Olivia yet again, as she feels like she is having trouble understanding some of the twists and turns their conversations are taking that night and always seeming to be a step behind; reminding herself that she shouldn't be delving too deeply into certain subjects just yet but unable to stop herself from continuing. "Is that what you thought he was going to do?"
Amanda shrugs and bites her lip, the smaller woman's thumb scraping back and forth across Olivia's hand as she traces wobbly circles on her skin. "I don't know. Maybe."
"Why did you think he was going to do that?" Olivia presses gently, knowing that Mike certainly has his flaws but had not behaved in any way that could be considered inappropriate, in terms of physically or sexually. "Has someone taken your clothes off without your consent while you've been drinking?"
"Charlie."
The name that Amanda had mentioned earlier in the car is uttered almost inaudibly under her breath, the other woman once again neglecting to elaborate at all with any kind of details or explanation on the subject. Olivia is torn, wanting to know who Charlie is but afraid of pushing any more than she already has in a situation where Amanda is not quite herself, and deciding on a happy medium instead.
"I want you to know that you can talk to me about Charlie anytime you want to, okay?" she replies softly, watching as Amanda's eyelids flutter like they are too heavy to keep open. "Or anything else, for that matter. Anytime you need to talk, I'm here for you, alright?"
Amanda nods slowly and doesn't verbally respond, her chin drooping down toward her chest in exhaustion as her grip on Olivia's hand loosens somewhat.
"You look really tired, honey," Olivia observes gently, knowing she has to tread very carefully with what she is about to suggest, as she doesn't want Amanda to take it the wrong way and feel unsafe. "Is it okay if I help you to bed?"
Amanda nods again and holds her arms out to Olivia like a sleepy toddler asking to be picked up, Olivia's heart melting as she folds the younger woman tenderly into her embrace and gingerly guides them both into a standing position. They shuffle into the bedroom with halting steps, Amanda still quite unsteady on her feet despite her ability to carry on more of a coherent conversation, and Olivia feeling a bit unsure of how to proceed with things from here.
"I don't want to make you upset or scare you in any way, especially considering what we just talked about, but do you need some help getting changed?" Olivia inquires softly, guessing that it's going to be uncomfortable for her co-worker to sleep in the rumpled plaid shirt and jeans she is currently wearing.
"You don't scare me, Liv," Amanda says very quietly as clumsy fingers start fumbling with the buttons on her top, the garment falling away from her shoulders and slipping down her arms to pool onto the floor.
Olivia's breath is catching in her throat again for many different reasons as she stares at the gorgeous form of her colleague, Amanda clad in a white lace bra that perfectly hugs her slim, toned frame; the bruises across her midsection standing out starkly against her pale skin. Another set of wounds encircling both of Amanda's upper arms are catching Olivia's attention now and tearing her thoughts away from how utterly stunning the other woman is; taking a step forward and brushing her fingers very lightly over the smattering of bruises.
"Oh my god, Amanda, what's going on here?" she breathes in concern, noticing the shiver that her touch seems to induce. "How many times have you fallen? Or did someone grab you? These look like fingerprints."
"Sometimes the guys at the bar get a little rough when I turn them down," Amanda mumbles offhandedly as she unzips her jeans and begins tugging the pants over her hips and down her legs with uncoordinated movements, revealing underwear that matches her bra. "But don't worry, Liv, I give as good as I get."
"I don't doubt that for a second," Olivia says seriously, having witnessed Amanda's ability to handle herself with suspects twice her size and feeling a twinge of pride piercing through the overwhelming worry. "But if you are being physically injured by any of those men at the bar, we can put a stop to it. We can press charges. You shouldn't be treated that way."
She thinks back to the altercation that had taken place earlier in the evening with the large man who seemed to think Olivia was Amanda's girlfriend but that she should submit to him anyway, despite being gay. A swell of anger and protectiveness rises inside as she watches the smaller woman swipe a long T-shirt off the floor and pull it over her head, Olivia reaching out to help guide her arms through the sleeves and Amanda's long blonde hair standing on end when the top is tugged into place.
Her fellow detective wobbles there in front of Olivia on shaking legs, swallowed up by a shirt that looks at least two sizes too big; the complete opposite of what everyone else usually sees at the precinct and out in the field, Olivia being afforded a rare glimpse into her private life. Amanda doesn't say anything in response to Olivia's suggestion of charging anyone who is hurting her at the bar, appearing dead on her feet as she sways with inebriation and exhaustion, and Olivia stepping forward to guide Amanda gently toward the bed.
"Come on, honey, let's get you tucked in," she murmurs tenderly, helping Amanda get settled beneath the covers and blinking in surprise when the other woman's fingers are suddenly gripping her wrist tightly.
"Don't leave me," Amanda begs in a whispered tone, her eyes glimmering in the dim bedroom lighting with what might be tears.
"I'm not leaving you," Olivia assures her softly, bending down to stroke a hand through golden tresses that are spread out across the pillowcase in a silken curtain. "I'm going to stay here with you tonight, okay? I don't want you to be alone while you're like this. I'll just be out on the couch if you need me."
"I don't want you to sleep on the couch, Liv." Amanda answers firmly, tugging on Olivia's arm until she is hovering at the edge of the mattress and has to hold herself upright to avoid tumbling onto her colleague's smaller form. "Stay here."
"Are you sure?" Olivia asks doubtfully, allowing herself to be pulled onto the bed next to Amanda as the younger woman shifts over on the sheets to create some space for her. "I don't want to make you feel unsafe in any way, honey."
"You're the only one I feel safe with, Liv."
As she snuggles close to Amanda's warm body, her co-worker's trust very evident in her actions and words, Olivia vows to protect and fight for her; that even though Mike had said the opposite inside the elevator, Amanda is more than worth it.