Chapter 20

Amanda succumbed to her fever, listless and disoriented on the bed, temperature steadily climbing, body trembling with chills. She hoped that whatever was going on in her body wasn't contagious in any way—she and Liv had been up close and personal all day, Olivia holding in her arms countless times, wiping her tears, cleaning her after she had thrown up, helping her in the bathroom, and she didn't want anything transferred to her or her little boy. When the doctor came in to check on her, he gave her the news that she didn't have meningitis, which filled her with relief; she knew that could sometimes be transmitted to others. She tried to follow the rest of his conversation, to listen and pretend to care about her medical condition, even as her eyes slowly drooped closed. "Infection of the skull bone—alarming fever—brain could abscess—possible need to re-operate."

It took several second for the last words to register, but once they did, her eyes blinked open. "No…" she mumbled. "No more operations." But, she was gazing at an empty exam room, the doctor gone. She wondered for a confused moment if he had ever been there at all. She would tell him when he came back that she didn't want any more surgeries. Let the infection run its course, let her body give out if that was meant to be.

Liv had been right—she wasn't going to fight what happened to her, wanted no special measures taken medically, was resigned to whatever would happen. And she was right that things were unbelievably difficult now, that this was the lowest point in Amanda's life. But that wasn't why she was giving up. For weeks, she had been teetering on the edge of a deep, dark abyss, and Olivia had been the one person pulling her back from the brink. What if she fell into the abyss and took Olivia with her? It was better for her to be swallowed up by her own darkness then to bring down her friend. She had seen Olivia's face, tense with worry and emotion for her, tears welling in her eyes and clinging to her lashes. Olivia had looked at her like she was worth something, like Amanda Rollin's life meant something, and Amanda had wanted to gently set her straight, to reassure her that whatever happened would be no great loss. But instead she had only upset Olivia, succeeded in pushing her away, like she did everyone. The frail blonde woman let the tears come, too tired to wipe them away, letting them run down her cheeks and into her ears, tasting them salty in her mouth. Her fever climbed.

Amanda lost time—it could have been a minute or hours of lying there alone. But, when she finally turned over on her side, she saw Olivia by her hospital bed, and her heart somersaulted. "Liv," she croaked, both smiling and crying from the relief. But then she saw the other woman's face. She was gazing at Amanda with a look of indifference, her dark eyes disdainful. "I know what happened, Rollins. Why did you keep going back to him? You just threw yourself away, like always."

"I'm sorry, Liv," she whispered.

"You're sorry?" she scoffed. "You wanted it."

Amanda went cold, her whole body shivering with shock and betrayal. She momentarily covered her face with her hands, unable to look at Olivia, and when she took them away, Olivia had already gone again. Yet she hadn't left Amanda alone in the hospital room. She could feel someone breathing on her neck, hot, heavy exhales; the weight of someone in the bed beside her, pressing the mattress down. Amanda tensed, her mouth opening to scream, but no sound came out. She tried to move but found herself completely paralyzed, every muscle frozen, her throat tight and silent. "You want it," the voice drawled. And Amanda couldn't negate him, couldn't protest, no matter how much she wanted to, because she was voiceless. His callused hands were around her neck, choking her, and everything went black again. She was staring into the abyss.

The hospital room suddenly flew back into focus, the florescent lighting making her eyes water. Olivia was standing beside her bedside again, dressed differently than she had been before—she was more casual and comfy now, wearing a baggy grey sweater and pair of dark jeans. A series of small, panicked whimpers burst past Amanda's lips; she could vocalize again, though her cries were weakened. She saw Liv's mouth moving, forming words, but their meaning didn't register at first. Olivia repeated herself, and Amanda's finally heard her through the warm, heavy haze. "It's okay, honey. It's okay, Amanda. It's okay. Shhh—calm down."

"I don't want it," she said, her voice strangled, as if the hands were still clutching her throat. "Please, Liv, believe me."

"Believe what, baby?" Olivia asked. "I'm not sure I understand what you're talking about." She put a hand on Amanda's heated cheek.

"He was in the bed with me just now. But I didn't want that. I never wanted any of it."

"There was no one else here, Amanda, I promise. The fever's giving you bad dreams," she soothed. "The nurse said you've been out since I went home to check on Noah and Frannie." Olivia swallowed audibly. "You're very sick, sweetheart."

"I was awake," Amanda argued. "You were here when he got in bed with me." Her vision blurred with a film of accusatory tears.

"Honey, there is no 'he.' You've just been having a lot of flashbacks lately, and your temperature is so high that you're confused. And I've been gone for the past two hours—I went home to spend some time with Noah and change clothes. Lucy's staying the night, so I can be here with you. I don't want you to be alone."

"I—I can't keep things straight. I can't keep track of things."

"Shhh…you don't have to, honey. There's nothing you need to worry about or keep track of right now. All you have to do is rest and get better. Put all your energy into fighting this infection, and don't you dare give up."

"I'm so sorry, Liv."

"I'm sorry, Amanda. I shouldn't have gone off on you before, and I shouldn't have left the way I did without telling you where I was going or that I was planning to try to come back. I was just so worried about you. I hate to hear you talk about your life like it doesn't matter, and I would hate to see anything happen to you." Liv tucked in her bottom lip, an expression that Amanda had come to realize meant she was battling an emotion, possibly tears.

Amanda gazed back at Olivia, chewing her own lip, wondering how her usually razor-sharp, perceptive boss could be so misguided when it came to a person. She knew that Olivia need only learn the details about her, starting with what took place in Patton's office all those years ago, followed by everything that happened after: the countless trips to the casino, all the big bets gone horribly wrong, plunging her into debt; those drunken nights when she ended up in a stranger's bed or passed out on the floor or vomiting over the toilet; her rare talent for lashing out and shoving away anyone who might care about her; her inability to succeed on the job, despite her drive and desire and dedication; how she failed repeatedly at work and at love and at life. Liv would find all of it out soon enough, and the next time she turned and walked away from Amanda, it would be for good. A single tear trailed its way down her cheek.

"Don't cry, sweetheart," Olivia whispered. "Please don't get yourself upset."

"I don't want you to leave," Amanda admitted, and Olivia wiped away more tears with her hand.

"I'm here now, Amanda. I'm right here. I'll be here for you as much as I can."

Amanda shivered, teeth chattering even as the heat wafted from her body, and Olivia reached for a blanket and tucked it around her. "Do you think you can get some more sleep, honey? It's getting pretty late, and it's likely gonna be a long night, with people in and out of here monitoring you. We should both get some rest while we can."

"Okay," Amanda whispered, but she could feel her stomach knotting with dread and unease. After being so sure that Patton was strangling her in her hospital bed, the thought of closing her eyes and sleeping hardly seemed like an option. Yet Olivia had already picked up an overnight bag, headed into the attached bathroom where she had tended to Amanda earlier, and shut the door.

The instant she was alone, Amanda instantly tensed in fear and expectation, ears straining for footsteps, waiting for the mattress to dip behind her. She concentrated on the sounds of Olivia brushing her teeth, the rush of water from the faucet, straining to stay awake, be present, keep sane, even as fever and infection muddled her brain. Finally, Olivia emerged from the bathroom, just as Amanda glimpsed motion in the doorway to her hospital room. Patton was advancing on them both. "Liv's, he's coming in!" she gasped.

Olivia padded over to her quickly. "Shhh, sweetie. It's the nurse. Just the nurse." She slipped a warm hand into Amanda's and pressed her palm reassuringly. With effort, Amanda shifted her eyes and saw that it was indeed the petite nurse with turquoise scrubs, not the tall, loping figure of her former boss. Still, she squeezed Olivia's hand tightly as the nurse came over and checked her vitals and her temperature—103.5 degrees. The nurse frowned worriedly, muttering something to Olivia about hourly checks, a middle of the night MRI and CT. Everything sounded muffled to Amanda, and she started to drift off, her hand growing limp in Olivia's. As soon as her Sergeant loosened her grip, though, Amanda jerked awake, frantically seeking out her boss. Liv shushed her gently. "Close your eyes," she murmured.

"I can't," Amanda replied. "I'm scared, Liv."

"I know, but you're safe," Olivia whispered reassuringly.

"I don't feel safe."

"I get that, Amanda. Is there anything I can do?"

Amanda sniffled, hesitating.

"What can I do, sweetheart?"

"Can you—could you hold me?" Amanda finally asked, her voice very small.

Olivia gazed at her tenderly, motioning for her to make room. As soon as she had scooted back, Liv climbed up on the bed and then reached for an exhausted Amanda, gently tugging her into her arms. The younger woman laid her head on Liv's chest, soothed by the cool hand stroking her hot, flushed face. "You're safe," Liv reiterated. "You're safe."

Amanda nuzzled her cheek against the weave of Olivia's soft, grey sweater, dimly aware that she had openly asked for something that she would be ashamed of when she was well—if she became well. She felt a gentle kiss land on her forehead, just below the bandages, and she trembled in response. "Are you still cold?" Olivia asked. "I can put another blanket around you."

"A little, but I'm warmin' up," Amanda mumbled. Olivia adjusted her arms more snugly around her, her body heat mingling with Amanda's, the younger woman's chills subsiding somewhat. "Go to sleep, sweetheart," Olivia whispered.

"I'm afraid to," Amanda admitted. "I'm safe here, now, with you. But I might not be if I fall asleep. I keep seeing him, smelling him, hearing him. At first, it was just in my dreams, but now it happens when I'm awake, too. I can even feel his hands on me sometimes."

"I know that, honey. And I'm sure it's hell. It was hell for me, thinking and dreaming of Lewis."

A slow anger overtook Amanda, simmering alongside her fever. She had been properly sickened at what Lewis had done to Olivia before, when they hadn't been close. But now, the thought of him tying her up, taping her mouth, beating her, bruising her, burning her, filled her with a steadily building rage. "I hate him," Amanda said, hands fisting in Olivia's sweater, horrified tears pricking her eyes. "I hate him for what he did to you." A ragged sob escaped her.

Olivia tightened her hold on Amanda, who was shaking profusely. "Shhh, honey, easy. I didn't want to upset you. This isn't about me right now. I just wanted you to know that I understand what you're going through, that it's happened to me, too. That you're not alone. I shouldn't have brought up my own situation. Settle down, 'Manda."

"But I'm glad you told me, Liv. I'm honored that you shared that with me. I'm just so angry at the thought of anyone doing anything bad to you, let alone the things Lewis did," she said, raising her head from Olivia's chest to look into her boss's stunned, dark eyes. "You don't deserve to be hurt like that."

Olivia's brows raised in challenge. "And you do?" she asked. They regarded one another intently for a minute, before Amanda broke and looked away, shuddering with more tears.

Liv sighed, pulling Amanda's head back against her chest, urging her to lie down again. "Oh, sweetheart. What am I going to do with you?" she whispered. "When are you going to stop blaming yourself for what happened with Patton? I know you know better than this."

"No, you don't know, Liv—you don't know the details—"

"You're right, I don't," Olivia murmured. "I may not know every detail of what you been through. But I know that something more happened than what you've shared. And I know that whatever happened is eating you up inside. You need to talk to someone, Amanda. You need to get this out."

Amanda cried, her tears dribbling onto Olivia's sweater, and Olivia cradled her head closer. "Will you talk to someone, sweetie? When you're feeling better? Can you promise me that?" she asked.

"If I get better, Liv," Amanda reminded, and Olivia turned her cheek so that Amanda was looking up at her.

"Getting better is the only option, Amanda. Do you hear me?"

Amanda nodded slowly. "Okay, copy that," she said, her familiar response to an order from Olivia, but whereas before it had been a monotone or sarcastic response to Liv's on-the job commands and reprimands, it was now a familiar phrase between friends, words laced with affection and respect. "I'll do my best, Liv," she promised.

"Okay," Olivia whispered back. "Now go to sleep." And Amanda complied, drifting off to the steady thrum of her friend's heart.