This chapter picks up right where the previous one left off and is from Amanda's point of view. Sorry for taking so long to update.
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Amanda belatedly realizes that she has forgotten to lock the bathroom door.
She is not used to having another person inside her home while she is showering and getting dressed, and in her foggy, hungover state, it hadn't occurred to her to do so. Although she hasn't known Olivia for very long, she knows enough that the other woman would never just barge into the room in Amanda's current state of undress but is also aware that Olivia might not think she has a choice in the matter if Amanda doesn't pull herself together as quickly as possible.
The last thing she wants to do is let the woman she idolizes see her in this pathetic condition, but figures Olivia won't leave the apartment until she is absolutely sure that her fellow detective is in decent enough shape to be left alone. Olivia has seen her in enough embarrassing situations over the past few days and it is time to put a stop to what is quickly becoming a very inappropriate routine. Amanda's plan is to put as much confidence and conviction as she possibly can into her voice and body language, or least enough so that Olivia will feel comfortable carrying on with the remainder of her weekend outside of her colleague's home and Amanda can begin putting some distance between them.
"It's unlocked," she calls out, wincing at the weak quality of her voice and realizing just as the door starts opening slowly that it was a bad idea to let Olivia come in when she can't actually get herself off the floor just yet.
Amanda keeps her eyes closed and her face pushed into the wall as she struggles to catch her breath and ignore the strong pulse of pain in her ribs, trying to regain some semblance of composure and feeling the weight of Olivia's presence hovering over her; that compassionate, knowing gaze boring into her towel-clad body. She can do this; she can be strong in the older woman's company and not allow herself to crumble any further just because she caught a brief, imagined glimpse of a man who isn't even physically there but is hundreds of miles away in Atlanta. The rational side of Amanda's brain knows that she is perfectly safe in her own home, that no one else is here besides Olivia; and since she is the master of pretending everything is okay when that's not actually the case, this situation shouldn't be so difficult to manipulate in her favor.
She is well aware that this is Olivia Benson, detective extraordinaire, that she is trying to persuade into thinking everything is alright, but has accepted the challenge of convincing the other woman that she is indeed fine. "I'm okay," Amanda mumbles in a low tone, folding her limbs more tightly into her body and keeping her face averted so the brunette can't see her anguished expression.
"Yeah, you seem okay, all curled up into a ball on the floor with your face shoved against the wall," Olivia replies gently, a dry note in her tone as she steps into the bathroom. "If this is what it looks like when you're okay, I'd hate to see what it looks like when you're not."
"I'm fine, Liv, really. You can go, you don't have to stay," Amanda says quietly, willing her voice to stop trembling when she speaks and still refusing to look up at the beautiful figure who is looming over her in concern.
"I'm not leaving you alone right now," Olivia answers firmly, Amanda chastising herself for thinking it would actually be easy enough to persuade Olivia to leave just by telling her that she is fine. "Are you able to stand up?"
"Not yet," Amanda admits with a small shrug, overtaken by a round of shivers in her damp and nearly nude state. "I just need to wait until I stop shaking. It's so cold in here."
Out of the corner of her eye, she watches as Olivia spins on her heel and strides from the room without another word, Amanda's brow wrinkling in confusion and her heart promptly melting with gratitude when the older woman returns with the quilt from her bed and bends down to carefully wrap it around her shuddering shoulders. When the blanket is tucked snugly over her quivering form, Olivia simply sits down on the floor beside her, their bodies brushing against each other and a stillness descending upon the room; no movement or sound whatsoever.
Amanda guesses that Olivia is trying to give her some time to compose herself without forcing her to talk, and after several moments of oddly comfortable silence, she finds her resolve quickly crumbling when it comes to keeping her colleague out of her life. Amanda is so sore and exhausted and hungover, that unsettling terror still lingering deep inside, and she finds her head slumping down to rest on Olivia's shoulder before she can stop the action; her mind at war with itself as she craves the comfort that she had initially shunned. Olivia still doesn't speak but merely leans her head against Amanda's in a silent show of support, the older woman's fingers tracing light patterns along the quilt that has spilled over her own legs.
"You're still shaking a lot," Olivia finally acknowledges softly, nudging Amanda very gently with her elbow. "Do you want some help? You're going to catch a cold, sitting there soaking wet and freezing."
"The towel's staring to dry," Amanda murmurs drowsily, her head lolling limply on Olivia's shoulder when the other woman tries to pull back so they can look each other in the eye, her earlier resolve crumbling even further when she gets a glimpse of those huge dark orbs that are shining with their usual kindness and something else she can't quite define.
"Your hair is plastered right to your head, though." Amanda's eyelids flutter as Olivia runs a tender hand through her drenched locks. "If you're still too shaky to get up, let me help you."
Amanda contemplates this offer before nodding slowly in assent, irritated with herself for continuing to look weak and foolish in Olivia's presence but feeling far too wretched to try staggering to her feet in order to dry her hair and get dressed. She doesn't usually fall apart this thoroughly in front of people and can normally either wait until she's in private to have a meltdown of this magnitude or at least hide it better if she's not alone; not wanting Olivia to think any less of her than she likely already does.
Amanda immediately misses the physical contact when Olivia slowly extricates herself from their entwined position, getting to her feet and picking up the hair dryer and brush sitting on the counter that she had been intending to use before Charles Patton had appeared in the mirror. Olivia brings everything they need over to Amanda's spot on the floor and crouches down beside her again, urging Amanda to move a couple of feet away from the wall.
She shuffles forward in a clumsy, awkward manner so Olivia can begin gently untucking her wet hair from inside the blanket and run a smaller towel over her head to rid her blonde tresses of as much water as she can. The older woman begins dragging a brush very slowly through the long tangled knots, Amanda's eyes closing and her chin slumping toward her chest at the tender ministrations; Olivia creating a damp golden curtain that hangs straight down her back.
After the initial shock and upheaval of the unexpected appearance of her former deputy chief, Amanda now finds herself on the verge of sleep, her unconventional lifestyle catching up with her and everything that has been happening lately seeming to come crashing down around her in a desperate need for rest. As Olivia holds the hair dryer over her head with one hand and continues stroking the brush through her hair with the other, it occurs to Amanda that this might be the most intimate situation she has ever been in with another person; a consensual intimacy that doesn't involve sex but simply allowing someone to be close to her and take care of her in this time of need.
When Amanda's hair is completely dry, the room descends into silence once again; no noise and minimal movement as Olivia sets aside the items she has been using and runs her fingers lightly through silky golden strands. Amanda has practically melted into a puddle on the floor at the tender treatment she is receiving from her colleague, her previous headache and nausea and fear receding somewhat; unable to remember the last time someone has shown her so much gentle concern.
The embarrassment is still lingering right there just below the surface, reminding Amanda that the woman she privately loves has now seen her in multiple humiliating and shameful situations, but she still can't bring herself to pull away despite her earlier resolve to do so. Her brain is a whirling mass of confusion, Amanda laying her face down upon her bent knees and heaving a deep sigh, aware that Olivia's hand has come to a halt and is now resting lightly atop her head.
"Breakfast is ready in the kitchen if you think you're able to stand up and get dressed now," the brunette says in a soft voice that is laced with patience and understanding. "Maybe we can talk while we have some coffee and you can tell me what happened in here. Does that sound okay to you?"
Amanda doesn't know how to respond to this question, unable to recall a time when she has felt quite so conflicted about a situation; simultaneously wanting to demand that Olivia vacate her home and leave her to drown in her own torment, and eager to throw herself into the other woman's arms and beg her to stay for the rest of the day. Before she can say a word in reply, Amanda's dilemma is solved when a shrill ringing suddenly fills the air and Olivia is pulling away to dig her cell phone out of the pocket of her jeans, glancing down at the display screen with a muttered, "Shit."
Amanda's heart is sinking in her chest as she watches the older woman get to her feet and hurry from the room, answering the phone with a terse, "Benson," when she holds the device up to her ear. She remembers that Olivia and her partner Nick are on-call this weekend and figures the brunette will be rushing away quite shortly; briefly wondering if it is actually Mike on the phone but thinking Olivia wouldn't be answering with her last name if it was.
Amanda is surprised to find tears pricking at her eyelids at the thought of Olivia leaving her alone, and furiously blinks them away before her colleague returns to the bathroom to find her crying on the floor. She scrubs her hands over her face in an effort to rid herself of any obvious negative emotion when she hears Olivia's footsteps cease their pacing in the kitchen and begin striding back toward her slumped position on the ground.
"I just got called in," Olivia says softly as she leans against the door frame, her face pinched with worry and her eyes dark and piercing. "I don't feel right about leaving you like this, Amanda; not when you're in so much pain and especially after the flashback I'm pretty sure you just had in here."
Amanda's face burns with humiliation and shame as she fixes her blurry gaze steadfastly on the floor, steeling herself against unwanted memories of Patton and biting her lip when Olivia kneels down in front of her and takes her small, clammy hands into her warm, larger pair.
"Is there anything I can do for you before I go? Is there someone I can call to come over here and stay with you?" Olivia's voice still has that soothing lilt, although there is a distinct note of concern visible beneath the compassion now.
"I don't need anyone," Amanda shrugs casually, her eyes fixed firmly on the floor and not straying away from a hairline crack in the tiles that she has noticed, feigning a sudden interest in this tiny imperfection.
"Amanda, I know you don't like admitting when you need someone-"
"I don't have anyone," she corrects hastily, interrupting Olivia before she can continue. "It's just me. My family is back in Atlanta and I haven't been in New York long enough to make many friends." She is practically tripping over her words now, trying to assure Olivia that this is normal and she will be fine alone; determined to keep those stubbornly welling tears at bay. "But don't worry about it, Liv. I'm used to being by myself and I'll be okay, I promise. I'm better off alone, anyway. Remember when I told you that?"
"Yes, I remember but I don't agree with you," Olivia replies quietly, Amanda keeping her hands limp when she feels the older woman giving them a tight, comforting squeeze. "You're not better off alone. And I'm not leaving because I want to, Amanda. If I wasn't getting called in, I would be spending the rest of the day here with you."
Amanda clenches her jaw shut against an onslaught of intense emotion, angry with herself for being so needy and wanting nothing more than to collapse into Olivia's arms and beg her to stay instead of going out to do her job. This uncharacteristically clingy behavior is wrong and cannot continue, Amanda mentally rebuilding those walls around herself that her fellow detective seems to be so intent on breaking through and knocking down.
"Well, I was going to ask you to leave anyway, Olivia," she lies smoothly, her heart clenching in her chest when she sees the brief look of hurt flashing across the other woman's features. "So this works out very well for the both of us."
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The squad room is the usual hustle and bustle of clacking keyboards, loud voices and rushing feet as Amanda picks listlessly at her salad, the lettuce tasting like cardboard in her mouth as she chews without much interest, feeling slightly shaky as a headache pulses in her temples. Lunchtime at the precinct on Monday is no quieter than any other part of the day, Cragen pacing around inside his office as he engages in what appears to be a very angry telephone conversation with someone, while Fin and Amaro playfully toss French fries at each other from their respective desks.
The only other person in the room who looks to be as miserable and contemplative as Amanda herself is Olivia, the older woman's chin propped up in her hand as she flips through a large stack of files and ignores a salad of her own that is sitting beside the pile of papers. Amanda feels a sharp stab of guilt as she glances briefly at Olivia and immediately averts her gaze when the brunette's dark eyes instantly swing up to fix upon her with an unreadable expression, as if she had been able to feel the weight of Amanda's stare.
The first half of the day has been incredibly awkward and she figures the second half will be just as bad, Amanda doing her best to ignore Olivia and stay out of her co-worker's way as they both go about their business. Olivia had called and texted her multiple times after leaving Amanda's apartment the day before, the other woman's worry extremely obvious, but Amanda choosing not to answer the calls or reply to the messages and continuing to shoot down any attempts at conversation that Olivia has tried to initiate throughout the morning.
She has been determined to clean up her act and return to the tough detective that she knows herself to be; proud of the fact that she hasn't had a drop to drink or tuned into a game on TV since Olivia had left her place, keeping herself busy in any way she possibly could. That intense guilt insists on permeating every part of Amanda's being as she carries on with her day and tries to remain strong, aware that she is being unfair by shutting Olivia out so thoroughly but unable to see another choice in the matter. The woman she loves has been nothing but patient and kind with her over the past few days and does not deserve to be treated this way, but Amanda can see no other option at this point in time other than to keep pushing her away.
When she can still feel the penetrating dark gaze of her colleague practically burning a hole through her body, Amanda excuses herself from the group and pushes back from her desk to head down the hallway to the bathroom. She is relieved to find herself alone in the small space, praying that Olivia won't decide to join her, and leans against the counter with a sigh before turning on the sink and splashing some cold water onto her face.
After several minutes spent in the quiet of the washroom and listening to the din of cop conversations outside the door while she gathers her thoughts, Amanda feels confident enough to return to the squad room, frowning with curiosity when she sees Fin and Nick crowded around Olivia's desk. "What's going on?" she asks while trying to peer past the taller figures of the men, her frown becoming deeper when she notices the large vase of brightly colored flowers that had not been there when she had left.
"These were just delivered. Seems Liv has a secret admirer," Nick chuckles in response, Amanda sure she can detect the barest hint of jealously in his tone as she feels an immediate spike of her own.
"I don't have a secret admirer," Olivia mutters irritably as she tucks a note card into her pocket before anyone has a chance to read it. "I know who they're from. It's just none of your business."
"Seems like someone's in a bit of a mood today," Fin teases gently, although Amanda can hear the concern in her partner's voice. "You doing okay, Liv? Is there anyone's ass you need me to kick for you?"
Amanda watches as Olivia shakes her head and laughs softly, declining the offer and reminding Fin that she is perfectly capable of kicking ass on her own. After a few more minutes of conversation, the guys wander away from their desks to refresh their coffees, leaving Amanda to stand there awkwardly as she observes the rigid set of Olivia's shoulders and the downcast expression on her face.
"Are you sure you're okay, Liv?" she questions tentatively, unable to stop from prolonging the discussion due to her colleague's worrisome attitude. "Are those flowers from Mike?"
"Oh, so you've finally decided to start speaking to me again?" Olivia replies with a trace of bitterness in her tone, dark eyes swinging away from the vase to fix on Amanda with visible anger. "It's nice to see that something has finally caught your attention and reminded you that I actually exist."
Amanda's eyebrows fly upwards in surprise, completely taken aback by the unusual harshness of Olivia's words and voice, although she supposes it is no less than what she deserves. There is a tense silence between them for a moment as they stare intently at each other, blue eyes locked onto brown, and Amanda finds herself at a loss for words, knowing that she has so many things to apologize for but not wanting to acknowledge them at this time.
"Is he bothering you?" she mumbles instead, gesturing toward the flowers that she has to admit are the most gorgeous bouquet she has ever seen, but concerned that this attention and affection from Mike is unwanted. "You told me yesterday that he wasn't your boyfriend and you weren't seeing him again, so is he not taking no for an answer?"
"He's being pretty persistent but it's nothing I can't handle," Olivia says with a sigh, raking her hands back through long waves of thick hair. "It certainly doesn't help that we live next door to each other, so the close proximity makes it much harder to avoid him."
"Olivia, if he won't leave you alone, I can help-"
Amanda is abruptly cut off when the other woman raises her hand and spears with that intense gaze that sends shivers running down her spine. "Considering you can't even help yourself right now, I don't think there's much point in offering to help me."
Amanda is stunned into silence again at Olivia's swift change in attitude from the previous day, her heart plummeting down to her shoes and horrified to find herself on the verge of tears as she struggles to speak, not wanting to admit that Olivia is precisely right. "Wow. Well, okay, then."
"Oh my god, I am so sorry, Amanda," Olivia breathes raggedly, looking to be on the verge of tears herself now. "That was way out of line and I shouldn't have said it."
There is a short pause as the older woman gives one of the pink roses a flick of disgust with her fingertips, appearing to be trying to decide whether or not to confess her next words. "The last twenty-four hours have been absolute hell for me, alright? Between the horrific scene that Amaro and I got called out to yesterday and being accosted by Mike in the hallway as soon as I got home, as well as not knowing if you were okay because you refused to answer any of my calls or texts, I feel like I've been losing my mind. I almost went back to your apartment before I decided not to."
The next sentence is uttered in a voice so low that Amanda has to strain to hear it, her heart clenching painfully inside her chest in response. "I couldn't sleep all night because I was so worried about you."
"I'm the one who should be sorry," Amanda whispers shamefully, shocked and embarrassed that Olivia has spent so much time thinking about her and worrying over her when she is already dealing with so many of her own issues. "Everything is just really confusing and complicated right now and I'm not used to having someone around who actually cares."
"Well, get used to it, alright?" Olivia hisses under her breath, sounding torn between anger and sadness and compassion. "Because I care, Amanda. I care a hell of a lot. Probably more than I should, okay?"
"More than you should?" Amanda echoes with a curious tilt of her head, her heart rate picking up speed. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing, just forget it," Olivia murmurs with a wave of her hand as she turns away. "I'm extremely sleep-deprived and saying things that I probably shouldn't be. Maybe it's best that you just go back to ignoring me for now, or at least until I can stop running my mouth about certain topics."
Amanda is quiet again for a moment, digesting everything that has been said between them and glancing around the squad room to make sure her co-workers aren't paying attention; relieved to see Cragen still on the phone in his office and Fin and Nick engaged in conversation at the coffee machine. She steps toward Olivia and lays a hand on the older woman's back, surprised to feel the brunette's body quivering slightly beneath her touch and unsure if it's due to intense emotion or overwhelming exhaustion or a combination of the two.
"I am trying, you know," Amanda says quietly when Olivia turns around and quirks an eyebrow at her, making sure to keep her voice down so no one else will overhear. "To help myself," she adds quickly, catching her lower lip between her teeth while she speaks. "I haven't had a drink since I was at the bar on Saturday night, and I haven't done any gambling either. I know it hasn't been very long, but that's still something, isn't it; not doing either of those things yesterday?"
Olivia's expression instantly softens and a small smile lifts one corner of her lip. "Yes, Amanda, it's definitely something. I'm happy to hear that. And I'm sorry if I push too hard when you want to be left alone. You're not the only one who's confused right now, okay?" The other woman stops talking long enough to blow out a breath and clear her throat, those chocolate-colored orbs darting away. "You make me feel things-"
The door to Cragen's office suddenly flies open before Olivia can continue speaking, their boss calling loudly for everyone's attention but Amanda's gaze focused so hard on her colleague that she barely notices him, her heart pounding furiously in her chest. She wonders what Olivia had been about to say, that interrupted sentence playing over and over on a loop inside her brain while Cragen barks out orders and causing another shiver to race down her spine.
You make me feel things.