Chapter 2

A/N: – previous trigger warning still applies.

The journey back to Amanda's apartment had been far more pleasant than the outward journey to the bar had been. It had stopped raining, so at least Amanda was not hoping against all hope that her broken umbrella would hold out for another battering. The air had felt clearer, lighter and fresher, but maybe that had just been in contrast to the stuffy, overcrowded bar in which they had spent the previous hour or so residing.

Amanda was grateful Sienna had tidied up after the girls and that her apartment was actually in a respectable condition for guests. She could take none of the credit for that. She generally did not have spontaneous guests for that exact reason. What with a baby, a four year old and Frannie, her apartment was a disaster zone more often than it was presentable.

Amanda had briefly glanced over Jesse and Billie's sleeping forms when she and Olivia had arrived back home. She had made a pot of coffee (both of them agreeing they had had enough alcohol at the bar) and when they had finally sat down on the couch with their steaming mugs, Frannie had quickly jumped up and settled down between them both. Amanda scratched the pitbull between the ears with one hand, whilst taking a sip of her coffee with her other. She was happy Olivia was here, but now she was back home and considerably calmer than she had been in the bar, she felt a prickle of embarrassment. She had worked herself up over nothing, to the point where they had had to leave. And whilst they had not ended up cutting their night short, she imagined neither she nor Olivia had envisaged spending the bulk of it on Amanda's couch drinking coffee.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't," Olivia immediately interrupted, "I knew you were going to start apologising. I know what it is like to have a shitty childhood," Olivia said, referring back to where their conversation had previously come to an abrupt end, "And I totally understand why the idea of another kid – who you care about – potentially going through the same thing is enough to make you sick."

Amanda propped her foot up against her coffee table to stop herself from bouncing her knee. She ran her fingers through her hair.

"The anxiety is building back up again, huh?" Olivia asked, a rhetorical question.

"A little," Amanda admitted quietly.

"We can talk about something else if you want?" Olivia suggested.

Amanda shrugged. She would love to talk about anything else, but she realised that all she had was recent events, none of which could be counted as light, pleasant conversation.

"Have you talked to anyone at all, Amanda?" Olivia queried, after Amanda had remained quiet for a few moments. Amanda had not realised she had drifted off down the winding streets of her mind once more, just like she had done before, until Olivia brought her back to the present again.

Amanda gave a wry smile.

"Doctor Hanover isn't back at work yet," the words left her mouth before she could really consider the implications of them. After all, she had been seeing the psychiatrist for therapy before Kim and her father had turned up; before she had been held hostage by Frank Bucci. It wasn't a secret anymore, sadly, seeing as Frank had followed her to the doctor's office and held Doctor Hanover prisoner alongside her for the first part of the distressing ordeal. Thankfully, everything that had followed had eclipsed the small detail of her attending therapy, and whether deliberate or not, no one had followed up with her and asked her about it.

Amanda chewed her lip nervously. She could not meet Olivia's eye. She focused on petting Frannie, who rolled over onto her back for a belly rub.

"I'm glad you found someone you could trust, Amanda," Olivia said, kindly, but Amanda felt uncomfortable, and it suddenly dawned on her why.

"I feel like a hypocrite," she said, almost inaudibly, causing Olivia to lean in a little to hear.

"Why?" Olivia asked, sounding genuinely confused.

Amanda forced her eyes upwards to Olivia. What she had done to deserve such an ever-patient, caring and generous friend and boss, she could not say. How Olivia had anything but disdain for her, after all her transgressions throughout her time in New York left her at a genuine loss.

"Because of what I said to you about therapy once, and when I threw it back in your face after…Reese Taymore was raped."

Amanda cringed at the clumsy wording of her sentence. She had gone out of her way to avoid hearing her own voice speak Patton's name, and she was sure it was a fact as obvious to Olivia as it was to Amanda herself. She hated herself for how pathetic she had just demonstrated she was, in front of Olivia, who had already shown her more grace than she had ever deserved. All the traumas in her life had lived out their seasons, but Patton was evergreen, undying and enduring, and no matter what else she crawled or crashed her way through, he was still always there, waiting for her at the end of the day.

"I hope you don't think I hold that against you," Olivia sounded alarmed, "What you said about therapy…when you said it, you were in a bad place. You were lashing out. It doesn't mean that because you once said you didn't need to pay to someone talk about your problems means that you have a life time ban from therapy."

Amanda winced at hearing her own words spoken back to her. She had a lot of regrets, and a lot of things she wished she could take back, and that sentence, spoken to Olivia shortly after the William Lewis saga was near the top of the list of actions Amanda wished she could undo.

"And after Patton came to New York," Olivia continued, and it did not escape Amanda's notice that Olivia did not hesitate to use his name, "It wasn't the right time for you, and that was ok," Amanda's eyes fluttered closed when Olivia's hand covered her own where it rested on Frannie's fur. Amanda was sure it was meant to be a supportive gesture, but the compassion was almost unbearable. "One of the many things I learned in therapy," Olivia carried on, her fingers curling around Amanda's palm and squeezing gently, "Is that timing is everything. And back then, you had so much to process. You had repressed what had happened to you for years, and Patton resurfacing in your life, everyone finding out what you had kept inside for so long was more than enough for you to cope with. I'm sorry I tried to push you towards working through it in therapy when it was too soon for you," Olivia finished, and she kept hold of Amanda's hand.

"You didn't push me, Liv," Amanda shook her head.

"I did," Olivia argued, "And I'm also sorry that we weren't in a better place back then, that I didn't offer you more of my time. Yes, you could have come to me, but I knew you wouldn't. Even if I thought you'd have pushed me away, I should have tried. You deserved to have someone try."

Olivia's words stirred up Amanda's emotions. She wanted to argue, to tell Olivia she was wrong, but she couldn't. Olivia was right. Someone trying to reach her, even if she would have undoubtedly pushed back, would have...been everything. It would have validated her; told her the slut-shaming she had suffered in Atlanta had been undeserved. She would have undoubtedly rejected any such help, but the effort would have shown her that she was, just maybe, worth something after all. Maybe it would have helped her faster than she could ever have helped herself. But all the maybes were maybes of the past, and dwelling on them now did not alter her course to the present she found herself in now.

"Thank you," Amanda said thickly, and she swallowed. She paused for a moment, then timidly, she said, "Bucci took me to a motel. I mean, I never thought he was going to…touch me, or…do anything like that."

Like that, she said, meaning, rape me…

"And it wasn't like Patton ever had a gun to my head or anything," Amanda finally managed to say his name, "But just for a moment, when we walked into the motel room, I just stopped and…" Amanda hesitated, confused for a minute when Olivia's hand left hers, but she watched as Olivia patted Frannie to encourage the dog to vacate the space between them. More than a little disgruntled, Frannie yawned and stretched but complied with Olivia's unspoken request to jump down.

"C'mere," Olivia whispered, and she quickly took Frannie's space on the couch, moving up to sit directly beside Amanda. Olivia brought Amanda's head to her shoulder, her hand resting at the nape of her neck. "I'm so sorry," Olivia murmured in realisation against the top of Amanda's head, "I never thought about that…I'm sorry that you went through that…reliving one trauma while going through another."

Amanda squeezed her eyes shut tightly against Olivia's shoulder. She had a heavy feeling in her chest, but no tears fell. She had spent so long pushing down any feelings associated with her sexual assault that any kind of emotional response did not come to her easily. She pulled back from Olivia and raked her fingers through her hair. She let out a dry, frustrated sob.

Olivia lifted her hand up to cup Amanda's cheek, "If you need to cry, just let it out," she said, misunderstanding Amanda's inability to let go of her emotions as a conscious attempt to hold it all in.

Amanda shook her head and pressed her hand against her sternum and rubbed her chest in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure that had started to build there, a discomfort which had begun to border on pain, "I-I can't," she stammered, and she realised when she struggled to form her words that it was because her breathing was too fast. She blinked hard when her vision swam. Her head was felt like it was full of cotton candy. It was when she felt the pins and needles begin in her fingertips that she thought she may pass out, "Liv, my chest," she could not elaborate, the hyperventilation having taken over completely.

"Hey, hey, Amanda, hey, c'mon," Olivia took her by the shoulders, "Try to hold your breath, you're ok, you're having a panic attack, you need to slow your breathing right down."

Amanda shook her head and tried to shrug off Olivia's grasp. Olivia was being ridiculous. Amanda had never had a panic attack in her life. It was much more likely she was having a heart attack, and was about to die right here on her couch, in her apartment, with her young children sleeping a few feet away.

"My chest," Amanda ground out the words whilst still rubbing her breast bone hard, "Liv," she pleaded, though for what, she could not identify, "I'm dying."

"Oh, no, honey," Olivia shook her head, "Lay down," she instructed kindly, "You're not dying, Amanda, I promise, lay down," Olivia repeated, and she gently helped Amanda bring her legs up onto the couch, and guided her to lie down with her blonde head resting on Olivia's lap. "You're going to be ok," she reassured her, and she started to softly comb through Amanda's long hair with her fingers, "Just try and relax through it."

Whether lying down had altered Amanda's blood pressure, or the comforting contact provided by Olivia that had helped her slow her heart rate, after a few minutes had passed, Amanda felt a sense of equilibrium returning. She lay on her side, looking out over her unusually tidy living room. Her head ached, and she allowed her eyes to drift shut as Olivia continued to stroke her hair and the side of her face. She had never felt panic like what she had just experienced. At some point during the time it took Patton to rape her, she had checked out, disassociated, and it occurred to her that maybe she had never checked back in to face it in all the years since.

She had been scared of Bucci but she had been weirdly calm throughout the hours spent rushing around the city while he had pulled her thorough his barely thought out plan. The concern that mostly occupied her mind throughout that time (apart from worrying about her girls) had been that he might accidently shoot her – or himself, or crash the car her was driving under the influence of alcohol and pills. Amanda had never truly considered Frank capable of intentionally physically harming her.

Any contact she had with Kim no longer caused Amanda panic. She had long moved on from anxiety surrounding her sister's actions or well-being. Since she had Jesse, and her children had become her priority, any drama from Kim had merely filled her with dread. And she could not even begin to unpack the complex trauma of her childhood. She sighed, drowsy now, thanks to her adrenaline receding back to normal levels, and Olivia's soothing strokes over her throbbing head.

"Better?" Olivia whispered, and she brought one of her hands to Amanda's shoulder, and dug her fingertips into the tight, knotted muscle there.

"Hmm," Amanda hummed. She knew she should sit up now she was reassured she was no longer about to go into cardiac arrest, but Olivia was making her feel so relaxed and calm that she could not bear it to end. She rolled onto her back and opened her eyes to look up to her friend, "I'm sorry," she said, "That's never happened before," Amanda explained, "I mean, I've never had a…panic attack, or whatever that was. Sorry I was a bit dramatic with the whole 'I'm dying,' thing," she rolled her big blue eyes at herself.

"It's ok, Amanda," Olivia said, sympathetically, and she continued to stroke her hand repeatedly over Amanda's forehead, "It's scary – especially the first time, when you don't know what's happening."

Amanda regarded Olivia intently for a few moments, and she worried her lip, deep in thought.

"I'm sorry if anything like that has ever happened to you," Amanda said softly. From what Olivia had said to her, and from how her boss had handled her behaviour, Amanda's intuition told her that just maybe, Olivia had personal experience of something similar.

"Thank you," Olivia smiled down at her, "It's ok – it has been a very long time since I felt that way," Olivia said, confirming Amanda's hunch.

Gingerly, Amanda attempted to sit up. Olivia helped to support her as she swung her legs back down to the floor. She felt dizzy again as she righted herself, and she put her hand to her head, when for a second it felt like it might fall off her neck.

"Hey, slowly," Olivia chided, "Are you ok?" she rubbed a hand up Amanda's back.

"Yeah, I'm ok," Amanda said, and she took her hand away from her head and opened her eyes. She looked to Olivia, "I'm really glad you're here," she smiled a small smile, which Olivia returned, but broadly.

"I'm glad I'm here, too," Olivia agreed, "I would have hated for that to happened to you when you were on your own, although, I guess, had I not been here tonight…if we hadn't had the conversations we've had, you'd have been ok," Olivia acknowledged, "I'm sorry, Amanda, tonight has been a disaster. It was meant to be about trying to do something good, something right…to be there for you, like I wasn't for Tucker or my brother, not make you feel like crap – earlier when we were out, and again now," Olivia bowed her head.

"No," Amanda shook her head vehemently, "Don't go there again, Liv, we've talked about this – there was nothing you could've done. Tucker wasn't alone, he had a wife to turn to, and he didn't…or maybe he thought what he did was protecting her, I don't know, but what I do know is that none of the responsibility for what happened falls on your shoulders."

There was silence for a moment while Olivia digested Amanda's words, then Olivia lifted her head.

"And what about Simon?" Olivia asked, choked, "Who did he have?"

"Liv," Amanda moved closer to Olivia when the brunette dropped her chin down, and she put her hand on Olivia's, to halt the other woman from fiddling with and picking at a hang nail, "Simon hadn't been in touch with you for years. He was an addict, and believe me on this Liv, the only person who can save an addict is themselves."

"He'd been clean-" Olivia began to argue.

"No," Amanda said, abruptly putting a stop to Olivia's protest, "I won't let you do this to yourself. You're not responsible for everyone you've ever cared for in your life, Olivia. Tucker, Rachel, Simon…none of their actions are down to you."

Amanda linked her arm through Olivia's and leaned back against the couch, still weary from her earlier burst of anxiety. Olivia followed suit, and she rested her head back against the couch, too, exhaustion creeping over her. She looked weary, Amanda thought. Like she needed a long vacation somewhere hot. With a sea view. If only. Olivia turned her head to look back at Amanda, as if she was attempting to listen to her thoughts.

"And, by the way, if you thought going for drinks with me tonight was staging some sort of intervention for my future potential actions then, well, you were wasting your time," Amanda concluded, and she smiled as Olivia considered her quizzically, a confused look settling over her tired features.

"Why?" Olivia asked, humouring her.

"God, Liv," Amanda said, and she raked her fingertips through her hair. Her brain felt like it was ready to pulse out of her ears, "Because you saved me a long time ago, ok? Long before tonight. So, stop worrying."

Olivia closed her eyes briefly on the back of a small, gentle chuckle, before leaning forward to press a soft kiss against Amanda's forehead.

"Oh, Rollins," Olivia joked, "Who would have thought when we first met that we would end up friends?"

"Me," Amanda said instantly, her voice dripping in faux seriousness, "I always knew we'd be BFFs," she winked.

Olivia burst into laughter.

"Stay," Amanda said suddenly, dropping the jovial tone of the conversation in an instant, her heavy eyelids drooping once more against the pounding inside her skull. Olivia turned her head a little more to look closely at Amanda.

"Here?" she asked, her brown eyes searching for understanding.

"Here," Amanda clarified, "Just for tonight, you can have my bed-"

"I'm not taking your bed," Olivia interjected.

"Liv," Amanda sighed, "Can we fight about it in a little while, please? My head hurts," she said, her eyes shut once more, "Just say you'll stay, please,"

"Yes," Olivia agreed, "We'll fight about it later," and Amanda smiled when she felt Olivia's palm cup the side of her face, and her thumb stroke across the apple of her cheek, "Rest for a little while, if your head is aching, honey. I'll stay right here."

Amanda kept her arm linked through Olivia's where they remained resting, side by side. After a few seconds of silence, she forced her gritty eyes open. Olivia's head was still resting beside hers on the back of the couch, only her brown eyes had closed, too, and her previous haunted, exhausted expression had settled into one of peacefulness. Maybe they wouldn't fight about who took the bed later, Amanda mused, if they both surrendered to sleep right here instead. Amanda allowed her eyes to fall closed for the final time before sleep took her.

That was fine by her.