Fandom: SVU
Title: Amen
Chapter 1: Celebrate Me Home
P O V: Olivia Benson
A/N: Some things go better together, like Olivia and Amanda. If only Dick Wolf would consider hiring fanfiction writers to write SVU. Sadly, he has refused all attempts to co-write with me, so my lawyers have told me to write this pointless disclaimer. No, I do not own any rights to the Dick Wolf universe; this is purely for fun. Credit to the idea for this fanfic goes to the Twitter user SVUnyxEr, aka Maggie. Happy Easter, Everyone. Be safe. Let me know if you want this fic to be more than a one-shot. I hope this doesn't feel rushed. I did this with no prewrite in my notebook.
"Elliot. You were the most, the single most important person in my life. And you just disappeared."
Ten-Years without him in my life, no explanation, no contact in a digital world filled with fast-moving wireless connections, email, cell phones, and social media, it's unheard of for someone to vanish off the face of the earth. It's as if our thirteen years of being partners were meaningless. What kind of person does that to someone they supposedly care for so damn much they would lay down their life to protect?
What kind of man can show such callousness towards a woman he swears he loved since he can remember?
A man not worth my sense of time or loyalty. So why can't I get him out of my mind or my heart? Even on this beautiful spring day where the fields are alive with the awakenings and resuscitation of life. Birds happily chirp from the perches of observations all over the area on the top of tree branches, power lines, barn roofs, logs overlooking the fast-flowing creek, which is slowly flowing from under the cracked ice tops they have been hiding away under throughout the harsh winter of 2021.
A cursed year that can rival its sister 2020, taking a sip of my ice-cold water bottle, I stoop to kneel in the fields breathing in the fresh scent of blooming black-eyed-Susans, sage, Miniature plantain lilies, coneflowers, and Hibiscus. I have always loved flowers and how unique each flower is; the Hibiscus, for an instant, is a very showy flower. It's used to being the star of the show with its long gorgeous trumpet-shaped colorful petals, and it's the diva of flowers always reaching for the heavens. The Hibiscus is so confident that it even has its own tea, a delicious blend, brilliant red color with a pleasant aroma; it's perfect for cold winter days.
However, the Plantain Lilies are the most miniature flowers in the field, blooming at barely two inches of the little green. The white flower is a blink-and-miss wonder, there's no overpower aroma and nothing special about the flower, yet somehow they are one of my favorites; maybe it's because I have always felt for the underdogs in life.
"Mama!"
At Nine-Years-Old, my son Noah Porter Benson has taken to become a one-person wrecking tornado racing towards me now his feet pay no mind to where they stomp in their path to get to their destination; Me.
"Mama, come join us; it's so beautiful out here! The Sun is so warm, and the water is so cool!"
Sunshine a beautiful sight that leaves a person feeling so warmed and centered; who can't love the feeling of harmony that the beautiful golden rays of life give to us?
Someone like me who is so far swallowed into the pit of despair that they can't even remember what sunlight feels like anymore. For three weeks, I have been shoving myself away from the world of light, love, and warmth. Three weeks since Kathy Stabler, my friend died, and her husband, my ex-partner, and my long-time secret crush Elliot came tumbling back into my life after ghosting me for ten years.
They are sucking all the oxygen out of my lungs and leaving me swimming in the deep end with no previous swimming experience, no lifeguard to save me when the water rises too high, too fast. How can someone promise me forever and know they never meant the words they said, and if Elliot did, how could he simply vanish with no regard for how it would leave me feeling? Self-perseverance is one thing, but what Elliot did was selfish, period. It's impossible to explain to anyone how depression feels if they haven't lived it, depression isn't the feeling of sadness or lack of energy. These emotions don't simply go away one day, and you're okay again; it's a roller-coaster of highs and lows. It can disrupt careers, relationships, and daily tasks such as self-care and housework. There's no joy in life when all you can focus on are the hurtful things that have been done to you or in the name of you.
"I left because it was what I thought you needed, Liv; I knew you could go all the way to the top, but I couldn't be the one to hold you back, and before you say anything, It's true, Liv, I was a ticking time bomb, and all bombs have an explosion date. I didn't want to drag you down with me."
"I know how much harder it has been for you being a woman in the NYPD, and I knew if there were anyone who could do it, Liv, it would be you, Olivia Margaret Benson. You could be Captain one day, and you are. So my sacrifice was well worth it, even if you never see it that way."
Elliot's words have kept me up for weeks. How can he think he is some savior of me? How can he think I never needed him? He has no damn clue what I have been through, how I was broken open and left raw by his departure by William Lewis, by twenty-two-years on a job as gruesome and heartbreaking as a special victims detective.
His arrogance has left me speechless; I can't eat or think straight; if it wasn't for Noah, I would have been hitting the bottle three weeks ago. I can't afford to comfort myself with my pity-party of all-night binges, not when I have a thriving, beautiful boy who depends on Mommy to make sure he is up every morning, fed and clothed, and has all his essentials met. Children deserve 100% percent of their parent's time, love, and energy. I've waited so long to have children and went through much to keep Noah. I will let no one take him away from me, even if it means fighting my demons; I have kept hidden away for so damn long because Elliot isn't the only selfish one who excels at self-perseverance.
"Mama!" Noah's voice holds the impatience of a child as it should since he is a child. His little feet are crossed, along with his arms which rest on his puffed-out chest, and his eyebrows are arched in annoyance, making me wonder how long he has been standing there calling me. "Yes, sweet boy?"
"Are you going to join us in huntin' for eggs?" Huntin' he's only been in the countrysides of Indiana for two days, and he's already he has a twang to his voice pronouncing the words as if he grew up in the country. "yes, honey, of course, I am, I wouldn't miss it, are you all ready?"
"Uh, Yeah, Ma, we've been waiting for you, and the little ones are fussin' and huffin."
"Well, we can't have that now, can we, sweet boy?"
"Uh. No, Ma' not if we want any civil decor, we can not." Civil Decor, where is my child learning these words and phrases? Sweet Jesus, I will be shelling out private school tuition before he's a preteen if he keeps learning this fast. Watching Noah, though, I can't get mad even at the thought of spending thousands of dollars on a private education because Noah is the pride and joy of my life. My heart is in my throat the whole time because I can see the pleasure he feels being with his best friend Alyvia Journey "AJ" Rollins, who is the same age as Noah, her big sister Savannah Leigh-Knox-Rollins, sixteen years old, and Shelton Carter Rollins thirteen-years-old. Noah was born and raised in New York City the same as I was, and neither one of us has ever gotten to experience what a child growing up in the country gets to live every day. Fresh air with open-ended sky sparkling sun in the daytime, and shining stars at night, the sounds of nature running through fields of beautiful flowers and weeds higher than some adults I know, catching fireflies and letting them go, roasting marshmallows over an open fire-pit, singing songs with his friends and family as someone plays the guitar.
Riding on the tailcoats of a pickup truck as your cousin spins and howls and you clap, laughing as loud as the day is long. Not that I have let him do that yet, or ever but I know if Noah would get the chance, he would surely jump at that chance because my little ballet classical musical loving Elton John wannabe is suddenly growing a more significant set of balls than I have ever had in my entire fifty-six-years on earth. Fresh Air has done him good; Noah has gotten to sleep outside under the stars and has learned to tell which star is which and what their stories are; he's chopped so much wood I can see his muscles growing in definition and weight. This morning he went out at the crack of dawn to feed chickens and find their eggs; he fed the pigs and milked the cows.
As impressive as seeing my son's growth is, it also hurts because he is growing so fast. I know our time together will be shorter with each passing day. Soon he'll be a teenager and want to be with his friends more and more. I will become less of an essential fabric of his quilt of life. I know he'll never stop loving me or wanting to make me feel important. Still, the facts of life are simple kids grow up, they learn everything they can from you, and experience every joy and heartache in their own time, and discover their own lessons till their wings are big enough and strong enough to support them in their flight.
I don't want this time to end. "Mama!" Snapping back to attention, I smile at Noah. "Coming, honey." Rolling his eyes, he lets out a huff which tells me all I need to know. I have heard that before, mother. Hurrying after him, I smile wider to let everyone know I am okay even though I feel hollow. AJ is bent in the gross looking with expert observance. She reminds me of a hunter staking out her prey. She will not let these eggs pass her by, not on her watch.
Savannah is blindfolded and spinning around her attempt to make it fair for the younger kids since her legs are longer and more robust. The Rollins kids make me laugh; they have grit and determination I haven't seen in anyone in a long time except maybe their mother, Amanda Jessica Rollins, "Mandy" for short. I glance her way to see her smiling at me; her eyes worried she sees right through me. Damn, I forget she's a detective sometimes and has the hyper-awareness cognizance skills of hunted prey.
"Alright, Ya'll everyone is here. Let's get started! There are sixty eggs hidden, fifteen for each of you; the eggs all have initials on the front with a number. No cheating, no shoving, and no fightin' ya'll have twenty-minutes let's go!"
The kids scamper away, laughing as Amanda shoots off a rifle like a starting gun; the shot lands perfectly into its target, a stuffed bunny that falls off the tree stump, it's stuffing now fluttering in the Air. "You're sick, Mama!" AJ yells but scurries off after these hidden eggs.
"Really, Amanda, a stuffed rabbit, are you trying to scar the kids for life?"
Amanda's laughter is thick and joy-filled. "Aw, Liv, it's so cute; you think my kids are some soft city pricks who haven't learned the facts of life. Sweetie, I feel so bad for you; how old were you when you finally understood the cycle of life?"
"Funny Amanda, real funny."
"Thanks, I wasn't trying to be. I'm serious. Life facts are simple: there's prey, and there are the hunters we kill to live, and we eat to live. There is a difference between pets and working animals, which are sources of income and food."
Glancing over at Amanda, I feel myself relax a little seeing how comfortable she is dressed down into a pair of low-riding tight blue jeans. A wife-beater white T-shirt, black and red cowboy boots, and a matching hat, she's sipping sweet tea from a mason jar. I have never seen Amanda this relaxed, and it feels fantastic. I wish I felt the same level of comfort as she does. Even watching Noah scamper up a hill looking under rocks and climb trees, I can't relax, not until I feel Amanda's hands massaging my neck and shoulders.
"You ain't in the city darlin' let your guard down, and enjoy this beautiful day, I have it on good word, that the Lord dialed it up just for us, it's picture-perfect a simple breeze, a beautiful patch of golden sun and happy entertained kids."
"I know life ain't been easy for you for some time babe, between Ed, Rachel, and your brother passing, now Kathy, not to mention being the Captain of a department hated by half the country at a time of civil unrest and all-time distrust of the men and women in blue. We all need to take care of ourselves from time to time, and if we can't, we need our brothers and sisters more than ever, even if we are too proud to admit it. To check-in and say, are you good, sis? If not, what can I do for you?"
"So I'm going to ask again, Liv, and remember you lead by example. You want us to come to you when we aren't good; we need you to know that we are here for you, and we want you to lean on us. We need to know we can count on you to have our backs, and you can't do that if you are drowning in your emotions. So are you good?"
"No, Amanda, I'm not good. I feel as if the damn ocean has pulled me out into the deep sea with no lifeboat coming to rescue me. I feel so small. Like I can't breathe deep enough to expand into significance. I'm irritable and snapping for no damn reason. It's as if I have a permanent case of FOMO, except the party I didn't get invited to is life and social interaction. Lately, I feel like I'm living on another planet, where I don't belong. At first glance, no one would think anything of my being there; I look just like everyone else, I act like everyone else, I seem to function just like everyone else on this planet. But the air and the gravity are different, and my body hasn't acclimated to this new environment. I can still function on this planet, yes, but it's a little harder to breathe, a little harder to run or jump, and I get tired out a bit faster. And I'm trying to hide all this from the planet's residents because if they find out I don't belong here, I'm not sure how they will respond. I can't show anyone at work because you said it, Amanda, I am the leader, and this is a terrifying time in our country, and our jobs are life and death. We need a leader with an unshakable structure; my son deserves a mother who has her shit together. I never want Noah growing up the way I did with a mother who detested me, who resented me and didn't give two shits about me and made it known."
"Olivia, you are not your mother, and you will never be your mother. Noah is damn lucky to have a woman as devoted and fearless as you are; you've given your world to make sure he has the world to reach for and dream of; Noah is an amazing young man, funny, delightful, caring, ambitious, and motivated because of the love and guidance you have given him. I know how depression feels, and sometimes the grip is so strong it feels as if you are in quicksand no matter how hard you struggle to breathe. It only gets worse. Growing up, I had no friends, I was bullied and labeled as an outcast, I had no family support, and well, you've met my family. They were a damn battle for themselves. I thought about suicide every day growing up. Still, I never acted on the pain or fear because I always held onto something my Nana Jessica Leigh said to me. By grace, we are saved through faith; spring adds new joy, new hope with the resuscitation of life once lost the bitterness of winter's touch. If I could hold on to spring, then I could make it to the promise of a new year, and one year would be the year I could blow that damn town and start my actual life."
"That sounds beautiful, Amanda."
"Because it is, and so is faith Liv, if you give it a chance, therefore Easter is my favorite holiday. It's not about hunting for eggs or pretty colors and big dinners. In its truest sense, Easter is the resurrection at the core of our beliefs as Christians, Baptists. Without it, our faith is meaningless. The reappearance of the light is the same as the survival of the soul. Believing in Jesus isn't seeing; it's a feeling he died for our sins, so no one would have eternal life without the sacrifice of offering ourselves up for forgiveness. These two words, faith, and believing, are critical to our salvation. Through our belief in the shed blood of Christ for our sins, we receive eternal life. We may not be perfect here on earth, Olivia, but someday we will live in perfection when we get to heaven, when we meet our Lord, our savior and creator Jesus Christ, we will be blessed."
"Jesus gave us the gift of life, Olivia. As hard as it is some-days, it truly is a gift, and if we choose to drown in our seas of pity, we are spitting on Jesus and his sacrifice. I'm not saying it's easy or that you are ungrateful for this gift; depression is a storm no human can weather alone. It's scary and lonely. When you feel lost at sea, Liv, drop to your knees and remember why we are here. No man or woman ever truly walks alone as long as you believe. Never, ever, during our trials and testings. When we see only one set of footprints, it was then that he carried you."
"I never knew you were religious, Amanda."
"Because I don't feel the need to run to church every Sunday or shout out my belief to everyone I meet, it doesn't make my faith any less valuable or firm. It's private to me but genuine."
Listening to Amanda, I feel the twisting of my stomach muscles slowly relax, and the heaviness which has been weighing down on my chest lifts, floating away like balloons. How can I be so selfish to wallow in my grief when I have been so blessed in my life with friends who love me, a career most women in my generation could never even dream of achieving? Money and wealth, I may not be a damn Kardashian, but I have enough to live comfortably and provide for my son, a son I never thought I would ever be lucky enough to have. I worked hard to get to where I am, but I was never alone even if I didn't have supportive parents; I had extended family, friends, and teachers who believed in me. My mom wasn't perfect, but she was never abusive physically.
Amanda grew up learning how to use her fists to survive each night against the sexual and physical advances of her drunk/ drug addict father and her selfish, money-loving, lazy alcoholic mother. They never lifted a finger to protect their eldest daughter. They left Amanda to raise her baby sister, figure out her homework by herself, get dressed. No friends or extended family to give a damn about her, in a small town where everyone knows everyone's business, a town that never encouraged her to make it out from under its traditions and expectations. She defied the odds and defeated gravity. Amanda rose to put herself through college working three odd jobs; she made her mark in the boys' club of APD, survived the trauma of a sexual assault.
I never looked under her surface to give her the time of day when she came to town, so caught up in my storm of emotions over Elliot leaving. I made life hell for Amanda, a woman already scared by generations of addicts and trauma battling her demons while raising three kids, and she did it all with a smile on her face, a sharp sense of humor, and ambition.
Shame burns my soul, knowing I never supported Amanda when she needed it the most. Women in this field need to support and lift each other because the men in our lives will always tear us down. Amanda never faulted in her strength for supporting me, even when I was rude, dismissive, and plain horrible to her.
God, I am a bitch.
The flutter of a butterfly breezing by my cheek makes me scream and jump, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Oh, Lord! OH, Sweet Jesus! I'm going to piss my blue jeans!" Amanda howls in laughter as I swat at the poor defenseless butterfly, who I swear stops flying and turns to give me the stink eye. Amanda falls to the ground clutching her stomach, tears flowing down her eyes as she laughs herself to death. "Yeah, real funny, honey."
"Even the bunnies are laughing, Olivia, OMG!" I glance towards the field where three fluffy bunnies are standing on their hind-legs, bopping their heads back and forth, their paws wiggling. Great, even the forest creatures think I am too city for the country. "I'll see you in my pot for tomorrow's dinner, fluffy, floppy, and hopper," I mutter as they wiggle their noses at me. Are they mocking me? Hopping off, they scurry away, wiggling their little butts towards me.
"We're done!"
The kids come racing back yelling with their faces flushed in happiness and excitement. Amanda rises, but barely every time she looks at me, she cracks up, shaking her head. "Wuss," she mutters. "No backbone, man. You city slickers."
The kids all race past us, going towards the house. I breathe in the scents of nature, the fresh dew from the morning April shower, the grass freshly mowed yesterday, flowers blooming, strawberries cut for the desert we are heading in to indulge in; I relish in the sounds of chirping birds, and the strings of a guitar being plucked by the owner of the house we have been loaned for the weekend. Bentley Remington Brett, twenty-two years old and just came home on leave yesterday. His parents have gone to Chicago to visit his sister Sylvie, a paramedic in the city; they are coming home tomorrow; Sylvie's a close friend of Amanda's because her kids are online friends with Sylvie's son Remington.
"Alright, settle down; kids will give out the prizes after you get washed up."
"Mama, can we go with Bentley? He's going hunting. He said we could watch, and he'll teach Noah!"
Alarm bells go off in my body, hunting my nine-year-old son. I'm all for him experiencing country life but taking a life, even an animal. Hell Naw. "Before you freak, Olivia, it's pelting guns for the kids until they get older and more experienced. Noah won't be in any danger, and he won't hurt anything. It's target practice mainly; the animals don't get hurt, just scared."
"In that case, sure, go have fun." There's a cheer that rises from the kids as they throw down their baskets and race towards Bentley. "The kids are away, Liv, so the grownups shall play." Amanda kicks off her boots, pops open a bottle of wine, and pours two tall glasses. "Peach dessert wine." I take the glass, tap it against hers, and lay down in the hammock next to her. My head rests on her shoulder as we stare out at the fading Sun, which lays nestled into the hills of Indiana. "Beautiful, Amanda."
"Yes, she is." I sense a deeper meaning in Amanda's words but close my eyes; I can't focus on them, not now. I need to relax and unwind from the stresses of life. I hear Amanda bite into the ears of a chocolate bunny and smack her lips. "share, bitch." "Demand much, damn." the bunny is pressed to my lips. I inhale the sweet aroma of chocolate before taking a bite. Mixed with the wine, it's perfect exactly what I needed. "You look more relaxed, Liv."
"I feel it; there's a magic in the countryside, it's so peaceful. Did you ever feel this way as a kid?"
"Yeah, all the time when I wasn't at home. I had this spot at the far end of center point road. It wasn't my private spot or anything, all the local kids hung out there, but to me, it was special. We would drive our pickup trucks out there, throw some blankets in the back, a bottle of whatever alcohol we could find, some fast food, and all lay there at night watching the stars shine. We would play ball, strum the guitar, dance and sing till we would become hoarse or someone called the cops."
"It was amazing; most girls lost their virginity there."
"Most girls, Amanda? Were you one of them?"
"A lady never tells her secrets, Liv."
"All I will say is I wasn't like most of those damn girls; they were so damn bound by traditions. Their parents were born, bred in Loganville, as were their parents and their parents before them. These girls didn't dream past Friday night lights; the furthest they allowed themselves to think about was the homecoming dance, who was dating who, which party was the hottest, and if the Devils would win nationals bring home the state title. I had bigger dreams, and while most of my classmates thought growing up was just a dream, I knew I was bound for greater things. So yeah, I had sex in the back of my pickup truck a few times, but it was only because I knew this life would end at some point. I wanted to enjoy the beauty of making love under the stars while I had youth on my side."
"Do you ever miss the country?"
"Sometimes in the loudest parts of the city, I wish for my windowsill inside my bedroom, watching the thunder roll and the lighting crack. There's a beauty to storms in the countryside; when I see my kids playing in a crowded, dirty apartment building, I wish for the rolling hills of Georgia. It may be the middle of the USA. Still, nothing beats running barefoot in fields, drinking lemonade or sweet tea from a mason jar, catching fireflies, or singing with my cousins, and I wish Mason were older. I wish Kim weren't in jail. Yeah, I miss life when it was simpler, when the biggest worry was who would be dirt road king! Racing my ATV against the boys in the neighborhood and creaming their asses; I taught Frannie how to hunt rabbits; I learned how to get the perfect aim in those backwoods of Georgia. The country made me who I am, and I am damn proud of that; I may not miss my family, but yeah, I miss life when it was simpler, peaceful."
"I may not have had friends, but I had cousins, and we were really close. I miss them now; they are all scattered in the world, haven't heard from them in years."
"You have us, now, Amanda." I rise to meet her, smiling at her, squeezing her elbow to let her know I mean every word I said. "I never had sisters or brothers growing up, I wasn't close to anyone in college or even in the NYPD, I mean I had friends, Alex was my closest, but I never felt this kinship with anyone, as I do with you, Fin, and even Kat, and some days even Carisi. I am here for you, Amanda, as you are for me. I know we started off rocky, which is mainly on me, but times change, seasons change, we've changed. For the better, thankfully, you're right. It's our responsibility to check in on each other. It starts with the leader of the pack too, so are you good, sis?"
Amanda smiles towards me. I never noticed how beautiful her smile is, tested by the trials of time, wrinkles which should never be on the face of a forty-year-old woman appear, but the radiance of her cyan eyes softens them, and her check to check smile. I'm sure the amount of wine and beer she has consumed all day has helped as well. "I'm good, Liv. I'm never happier than when I am in the country. I'm glad Sylvie was nice enough to lend us her family's home. We will have to thank her when we see her again."
"Yes, it was amazing of her, and it's gorgeous out here. Share a dance?" Amanda holds out her hand. "there's no music, babe." "Listen to your heart, Olivia, let the sounds of nature be the music."
We stand on the porch, a slight breeze blowing. I spot Frannie Mae. She barks from the field where she is chasing rabbits and barking at cows who lift their heads to glare at her but keep eating the grass. She gives up and runs, splashing in puddles. "If you like, I could sing softly." "I would love that; I never knew you could sing, Amanda."
"I have many skills; no one will ever know because they never asked."
The admission breaks my heart, making it clear to me that as close as we've gotten in the last few years, there will always be a lifetime of memories and experiences we've had that neither one of us knows anything about the other person. I gaze across the maple oak wooden tiles and, with a sudden burst of courage that I hadn't known I possessed, step into Amanda's arms. As the soft rhythm of Amanda's beautiful words washes over me, bringing a calmness to my heart.
"Amanda moves her left foot back in a smooth motion, sliding across the wooden floor. She slides her right foot forward, chasing my retreating foot with hers, like a fox on the hunt. Dipping me forward and looking into my eyes, her fingers tightened on my ribs as her left foot comes forward again, surprising my foot and chasing it back. We stop, toe to toe, and she pulls her hips in close to mine. Her lovely scent of berries and bourbon brush my nose, tickling my senses into overdrive. I feel the beginnings of a sneeze starting, but fight it off painfully.
I'm not a dancer by nature, but Amanda's sweet voice is so soft, so mystical it fills my heart with a sense of peace; I imagine this is how kids at Disney feel when seeing the kingdom for the first time. Innocent, bewildered, and pleasured to every nerve and cell. This magical fairy dust tickles my muscle. I do not know what artist has sung the song she is singing or if it's even real, but it's beautiful.
You will notice me
I'll be leavin' my mark, like initials carved in an old oak tree
You wait and see
Maybe I'll write like Twain wrote
Maybe I'll paint like Van Gough
Cure the common cold
I don't know, but I'm ready to start because I know in my heart.
Laying my head down on her shoulder, I let her continue to lead, even though we are moving and spinning with accumulating speed. I feel centered. It's as if the darkness that has engulfed my soul earlier has floated away, pushed out by this epic soft white light of hope and love. My fists unclench as my muscles loosen up, touched by Amanda's delicate fingers. So this is why Noah loves to dance.
I wanna do something that matters
Say something different
Something that sets the whole world on it's ear
I wanna do somethin' better, with the time I've been given
And I wanna try to touch a few hearts in this life
And leave nothin' less than something that says I was here
Besides Amanda's voice, there's silence even with the chirping and the mooing mixed with the barking. There's a beautiful silence for once: no horns blaring, no angry cursing, no guns being fired, no one is hustling and bustling to get from one place to another. Life is moving, but it's quiet. I can hear my breathing, but there's no anxiety, no death grip on my lungs or heart.
Amanda's touch, scent, and beautiful melody of her voice consume me, washing over my entire body. I'm drowning in the song and graceful crescendos. Yes, drowning, but I do not mind a bit. I am not scared I have become an instrument, a simple component in this beautiful piece of music. And then I forget. For a moment, I have forgotten about the world around me. The moment we moved, the world stopped in its tracks. I'm at peace because at that moment, I have finally let go. I am in a world of my own, and what a beautiful world it is.
I will prove you wrong.
If you think I'm all talk, you're in for a shock
'Cause this streams too strong, and before too long
Maybe I'll compose symphonies
Maybe I'll fight for world peace
'Cause I know it's my destiny to leave more than a trace of myself in this place
I wanna do something that matters
Say something different
Something that sets the whole world on it's ear
I wanna do somethin' better, with the time I've been given
And I wanna try to touch a few hearts in this life
And leave nothin' less than something that says I was here
And I know that I, I will do more than just pass through this life
I'll leave nothin' less that somethin' that says I was here
I was here
I was here
I was here
When I open my eyes, I am shocked to see Amanda holding a fist-sized selection of hand-picked flowers, a cheeky grin on her face. She hasn't let go of my waist. We haven't stopped moving; I do not know how she got them or where she got them from, but it doesn't matter. Amanda's lips graze over my cheek, and her words are soft. "Sometimes we all need a little reminder of how pretty life can be, Liv, even bad-ass Benson needs a little pretty in her life, we see a lot of ugly, and we feel a lot of pain, but the trick to life is always to remember that with the joy of life comes the pain of losing, we can't have one without the other because then we would never learn to treasure each moment as if it is our last on this earth."
"Life may end, Liv, but hope never dies; hope springs eternal. We can see hope in the twinkle of a child's eye, hear it in the beauty of a child's laughter. The love of shared friendships and the passing of time will only remind us that all life is eternal because if you believe in Jesus, you will remember death in this life is the start of our eternal life. So why should we be sad for our friends who have passed on? They have started a journey that we can only dream of the beauty. Instead of being sad, we should be jealous and strive to do better in this life to meet one day in those fields again. Let's celebrate our friends who have gone home."
"Amanda, I can never thank you enough; you've gone beyond and touched my heart in a way no one has ever touched me before."
"I got you, Liv. Not just on those streets, or when we wear those badges, I got you for as long as you will have me, on duty and off duty. I will never try to replace Elliot because what you two had was special, and maybe he was the person you needed, but Liv, since I have known you, I have seen a growth inside of you. I truly don't think it would have ever happened if you and he had remained partners. You've grown as a cop, as a woman, a leader, an activist, a friend, and in spiritual fulfillment. Fin has seen a leap in your emotional attachment in cases; you see people, not numbers, you see victims who need justice. You have become an activist for women, for the LGBTQ communities across the world, not just in our corner of the world. You've stopped letting your past define you, and you have shaped the future to a world you want your son to grow up in; that's beautiful, honey. You are a beast with the suspects, and you don't back down; you defend yourself, the victims, and us, Liv."
"A true leader inspires and protects, you didn't give up on me even when my actions screamed throw the bitch overboard, and you wanted to, but you didn't. I became a better person by learning from you, watching you, and being loved by you. You made me want to do better for myself, the victims, and my kids. You don't back down to the higher-ups; you make them bow down in wonder by achieving what they never thought possible. You went through hell with Lewis, but you battled your demons, Liv, and Lord knows it ain't easy. You put Noah first, the old Olivia, the one I first met. She would have buried her emotions in a pint of wine and said fuck it all. I know because I was the old you when I first came to town, kids or not, when shit got tough, I went to the bar, I gambled. I self-loathed myself nearly into a coffin. Till you showed me tough love and zero respect, when I lost your respect, shit got real. I didn't go through all the hell I went through as a damn kid; I didn't survive a rape, rise in the ranks and crawl my way from the south to the big apple to work with the woman who inspired me since I was seventeen only to throw away all my dreams with a few grave mistakes."
"After everything I witnessed, after these decisions, all these miles, feet, inches. They can't add up to the distance that I have been through, just to get to a place where even if there's no closure, I'm still safe. I still ache from trying to keep pace. You make me feel safe, Olivia. So I am sorry that Elliot's coming home hurt you; I am sorry he laid this I love you on you, but he's lying, Liv. Love means staying when the going is hard. He ran and never looked back."
"Home is in the arms of the people who would die for you, let you cry without judgment, a place where we can go to take this weight off our shoulders. Home isn't always beauty and peace, but even in the darkest of times, the people we love will always be there to remind us there is pretty in this world. We just have to be open enough to search for the hidden beauty."
"When did you get so damn wise, Amanda?"
"Endless years of bible school, Liv. I'm telling you that Catholics get a bad rep for guilt, but no one does guilt like country thumping baptists in the deep south. It's drilled into our heads from the time we can lift our eyes and have the grownups point them at the heavens and say Praise Jesus!"
I throw my head back, laughing, pulling Amanda into a tight hug. An emotional turmoil of gratitude, hope, shock, and love swells my heart. How did I get so lucky to have a friend as unique in body, mind, and soul as Amanda Rollins?
We stand in silence, watching the sinking Sun's arms locked around each other, exhausted by the spilling of our souls. Even Frannie has tired herself out, so all she can do is yawn paw at the flies as she lays her head down in the field nestled between two cows whose tails swoosh in annoyance at this mutt. The scene is so peaceful I find my eyelids growing heavy as my head rests against Amanda's chest. I could seriously consider moving out to the countryside or renting a property out here to visit on weekends. Taking Sunday drives to the creek to fish, drink beer, and build campfires so we can sleep under the stars.
"Crack"
Amanda's body jumps in shock. The gun sound alters her entire after being fired. "Something ain't right." Amanda's muttered words fill me with a sense of wonder, and confusing seconds after she mutters the word, a loud child-like scream fills the air, and we are both rushing towards the woods.
So much for peace and quiet.