So I was just kind of going through my favorite songs when I came upon Garth Brooks' Why Ain't I Running?, and inspiration struck again. Nothing serious, just a drabble of Rollins wondering why she hasn't run from Carisi. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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Amanda Rollins was nothing if not a runner.

She ran from the first boy who tried to kiss her when she was nine years old (after she punched him in his stupid face, of course).

She ran from the senior quarterback who cornered her in the empty gym after the final bell rang. The way her shoes squealed against the gym floor as she broke into a run for the exit echoed in her ears, and later her friends teased her because Jake was so cute and every one of them would have died to have been in her position.

In college, at her damn graduation, she practically ran off of the stage when she realized her mother and sister weren't in the crowd watching her. That time she ran until the stage was a distant blur and she cried so hard that she puked. A week later, she packed two bags and ran from Georgia, all the way to New York.

She ran from almost every relationship, every budding romance, desperate to protect the remnants of her fractured heart. It was who she was, an instinct ingrained in her very being from the day her father left her family.

So when the sun rose, filling her bedroom with the first rays of morning light, she could hardly believe she was still there.

Carisi lay there with her, his head resting on her breast and a soft sigh escaping his lips as he slept peacefully.

Slowly, almost tentatively, Amanda raised her hand and ran her fingertips over his shoulder. How did this feel so comfortable, so natural? She wasn't really built for relationships, for love and happily ever after. She had her daughters, Franny, and a stable career. Her home was comfortable and truly a home.

Then last night…

It seemed like a catalyst, for lack of a better word. Of course she knew Dominick cared about her; she wasn't blind. But he was a good man, the kind of man who deserved a wife and children of his own. He didn't need to be burdened with picking up her pieces and constantly chasing after her. So that first night, when they were drunk and he tried to kiss her, she ran. And it haunted her ever since. He was a good man, better than she could have ever hoped to have. When he showed up at her apartment the night before, beer and Chinese food in hand, it hit her full force. The beer and food was quickly abandoned on the kitchen table, traded for fumbling hands and messy, uncertain kisses.

Any time before this, she would have been gone long before the morning light.

But this time...as cliche as it sounded, it was different.

She didn't want to run from Dominick.

She wanted to run to him.

Her fingers absently traced little designs over his shoulder as she studied his sleeping expression. He looked so peaceful, content, even. A soft smile curved his lips as he slept, and briefly she wondered what he was dreaming of.

Before she could stop herself, she kissed his head softly.

"Don't ever leave me, Dominick."

Why ain't I running?

Why ain't I gone?

How does he hold me

Without holding on?

Finis.

A/N: thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think.