Author's comments: I'd been mulling this story in my mind for some time. But I never started it because I couldn't come to a good resolution. But after some late night creative sparks of insight, I've come up with some interesting angles that I think will work out well.

And after all the news the last few weeks—Bill Cosby set free, Britney Spears revealing the details of her conservatorship, a young lady in the military committing suicide after her rapist wasn't even brought up on charges—I figured this was the story I needed to work through it. I hope it helps someone else too.

Story of My Life

Chapter Six

Part One

Amanda helped Olivia from the floor, where she had been huddled, and Elliot cautiously approached with a throw from the couch and draped it over her. "We good?" he said.

Olivia looked like she was having extreme difficulty making eye contact with Elliot, but she said, "Yeah, no, it wasn't your fault, El. I'm sorry, I just…I was seeing…"

She slammed her mouth shut, and Amanda tentatively answered for her. "Clark?"

Olivia nodded. Amanda guided her to the couch, and Elliot briefly disappeared from view. Noah was still crying, so Olivia waved him over. "It's okay, Noah. Come here. I'm sorry."

He hesitated at first, but the mother-child bond was stronger than his fear, because he approached her and allowed her to squeeze him in her arms. "It's okay, Mom."

Elliot reappeared with his phone in his hand. "I, uh…I called Dr. Lindstrom." Amanda and Olivia just stared at him, their mouths agape. "He's your doctor, right? I thought you would rather talk to him than the police when they show up, after all the yelling."

Amanda found herself torn between outrage and gratitude. "Yeah, Elliot, but you should have asked first."

"I'm sorry," he said. "You know me, Liv. Therapy isn't my thing. But I thought you would want—"

"It's fine, El." Olivia pulled the throw tighter around her shoulders. "You're right. I do need to talk to him. This just came on so unexpectedly."

Elliot scratched the back of his neck. "Did I…do something?"

Olivia looked up at him, finally able to make eye contact. "You mean did you cause this?" She looked at the knife on the table. "No, Elliot. You didn't do anything."

Amanda watched Noah uneasily, and then said to him, "Hey shorty. Why don't you go get ready for bed and let the grown-ups talk, okay? Your mom can come tuck you in in a minute."

Reluctantly, he left the room, and Olivia began to talk in hushed tones. "I started seeing trails in my vision. Next thing I knew, I was having full-on hallucinations. I thought I was back in the hotel room." Confusion threatened her already-edgy demeanor. "It felt so real."

Amanda hid a sudden urge to be sick. She had witnessed only one of the many assaults on Olivia's body, and it had almost thrown her over the edge. What must it be like to not only have lived through it, but then to have to relive it again in random reality-bending episodes.

The buzzer rang, and it was Dr. Lindstrom. When he entered, he was in a suit with his hair immaculately in place. "That was fast," said Amanda.

"I was having dinner nearby. It was luck." He went to Olivia and kneeled in front of her, gently taking her hand. He looked into her eyes, and Amanda couldn't tell if he was trying to see if her pupils were dilated or if he was just connecting with her. "Olivia, you want to tell me how this all started?"

She repeated what she had told them, and then added, "And Elliot had to pry a butcher knife out of my hands." She sunk her head into her hands. "I don't know what to do, Peter. It came on with no warning, no threat. Noah was watching."

A tinge of remorse came over the doctor's face. "I hate to tell you this, Olivia, but I have to request a seventy-two hour hold. You can voluntarily go, I don't want to force you. But either way, it needs to happen."

Elliot stepped forward, and Amanda shot him a warning look. "No way!" he said. "Nobody got hurt. I handled it. She doesn't need to be locked up in a psych ward after—"

"Elliot!" Amanda cut in. "He's the professional. You called him. If he says she needs help, then—"

"I don't care who he is—"

"Stop!" Olivia shouted, tearing up. "Just stop. I'm going. Elliot, you can't be with me twenty-four seven. Nobody can. And even then, I might lose it and hurt somebody." She was breathing hard and fast, and Amanda wished she could do something more to calm her. "I have to do this, for Noah, and for everyone else involved. I could never live with myself if I hurt someone."

Elliot paced, running a hand over his thinning hair. "I don't believe this." He turned to face her, and his voice softened. "But if this is what you think you need, go for it."

"Thanks for your permission, Stabler." Amanda had tried to hold back her sarcasm for Olivia's sake, and maybe she was more sensitive right now because of all the trauma lately, but she was tired of his macho controlling bullshit.

Elliot started to posture, but Olivia broke in. "Guys, please."

And now Amanda felt guilty. "Sorry, Liv. I'll go with you if you want."

"No, Amanda. I think this is something I need to do alone. And with the help of Dr. Lindstrom." She started to choke up. "Let me just go talk to Noah."

Part Two

Olivia now found herself locked up in a maximum security psychiatric ward. Dr. Lindstrom had ensured that they had found a facility that wasn't going to abuse her, one with understanding staff that he trusted. The hardest part had been telling Noah she was leaving again. She would never get the image of him crying and begging her not to go out of her mind. Someday he would be old enough to understand—hopefully in the meantime he wouldn't grow resentful of her extended absence at a critical time in his life.

The second hardest part was being alone in a strange place right after experiencing the most traumatic time of her life. Dr. Lindstrom had said he would check in on her twice a day, but that meant hours on end with nobody to talk to except the other residents, most of whom appeared crazier than her most of the time.

Crazy. She had felt a little crazy after Lewis took her. She'd had flashbacks in the middle of the day, had punched out a man cat-calling her on the sidewalk, had been jittery and suffered nightmares and heard Lewis' voice at various times. But still, she had known where she was and what was going on around her. Now she was having full-on hallucinations, ones that brought her right back to the terror she felt in that hotel room. And that brought on her PTSD ten times stronger.

PTSD and solitude were not a good combination, she was discovering. The two mixed together had thrown her into a bout of despondency that she could only think was the start of a mild depression, although it was early still. Her first night in the psych ward, she rotated between pacing the length of her room and camping out on the floor staring at the ceiling. Lying in bed was not an option—it reminded her too much of the hotel room.

In fact, the room itself had nearly set her into a tailspin at first. It was small, had one bed, was minimally decorated. It felt so confining that she avoided it until lights out. And then it became suffocating, memories of her confinement assaulting her heightened senses until she hovered in corner, willing her breathing to slow. Dr. Lindstrom had prescribed medications that were supposed to calm her, but all she felt was tired and more confused.

Somehow, she made it through the night without any hallucinations and was ushered to the cafeteria for breakfast. The people around her in line were non-threatening, but she felt crowded nonetheless. When the man behind her reached over to grab a plate, his outstretched arm brought a flash of a memory, Clark's hand reaching to touch her imprisoned body. She shook her head, and the memory with it.

But she started seeing trails of light and knew that she had seconds to stop the flashbacks from assailing her and bending her reality. She took a step back and put her hands to her head, hoping to black out external stimuli.

The man next to her in line, the one who had stretched out his hand, stared at her in alarm. "Are you okay?"

When she opened her eyes she glimpsed him reaching for her, and now the trails blended in with the man and formed swirling shapes that reconfigured into the shape of Clark. Looking around for some way to protect herself, she saw the closest sharp instrument—a large serving fork in the hands of a staff member, used to dole out ham. She snatched the tool from the wide-eyed staff and immediately turned to the person nearest to her, because everyone seemed dark and menacing now.

The man's hand was outstretched and resting on the counter, and she jabbed the fork into it. All hell broke loose, and she just knew she had to make her escape in that moment. She had no idea where she was running to, just that she needed to find an exit before anyone else could assault her. She got as far as the front doors before someone tried to grab her, and she elbowed them in the face, causing them to stoop over in pain, and then she kneed them in the diaphragm and they were on the ground.

There were people all around her now—men, and not just any men. Everyone who had assaulted her in the past was there—Clark, Lewis, the prison guard Lowell Harris, the stalker Richard White. Together they grabbed her, and she fought like hell, arms and legs flailing and struggling to create a breakthrough from their grasping hands. But they prevailed, and dragged her into a room, where they began to strip her baggy sweatpants from her. They held her down, and she screamed and fought but with so many, she was unable to keep them off her, and they ravished her and hurt her so bad that there was nothing left of her but a trembling, whimpering puddle.

Part Three

When Amanda first arrived at the psych ward to visit Olivia, she had no idea anything was wrong. It wasn't until they led her into a hallway with locked, padded rooms that she began to suspect something was out of place. And then she spotted Dr. Lindstrom staring into the window of one of those rooms, and her heart sank into her stomach.

"Hi, Amanda," he said, without taking his eyes off the room.

She stood beside him and peered through the window to see what he was looking at. Inside, Olivia was yelling, although it was hard to hear her through the heavily-insulated walls. She pounded on the walls, a look of sheer panic draped on her face. Occasionally she swatted at the empty air behind her, and at one point Amanda thought she heard her yell out, "Get off me!"

The knot in Amanda's gut tightened to the point where she felt like she might suffocate. "Doctor, we have to do something!"

"I tried," he said, his voice flat with defeat. "She's already stabbed someone with a fork and attacked several staff, sending one to the hospital with a cracked rib." He folded his arms. "Still, I went in there, tried to talk to her. But she just saw me as another threat. First, she screamed, then she charged me. I had to get out."

"Are you okay?"

He glanced at her now. "Yeah. The only thing damaged is my ego. I thought she would recognize my voice." He shook his head with sorrow in his eyes. "They're getting a sedative now. I hope she doesn't hurt anyone when they give it to her."

Amanda watched as Olivia suddenly ran to the other side of the room, swinging her arms at unseen assailants. Then she slid down to sitting, kicking her feet and flailing her arms until she was lying on the ground.

Amanda grunted, turning away. "I can't watch anymore." She ran a hand down her face. "Can I try?"

Dr. Lindstrom turned to her, wide-eyed. "You want to go in there?"

Amanda pleaded with her eyes. "She might listen to me. She has before. I think because I'm a woman."

"Amanda, there were female staff, too—"

"Yeah, but noone that she knew."

They stared at one another, Dr. Lindstrom eyeing her like she was crazy now too. "I'm afraid she'll hurt you, Amanda. She's bigger than you, out of her mind."

"I'll get out if she comes at me. Stand close to the door. I'll be careful. I won't advance on her until I'm sure she can handle it."

Dr. Lindstrom sighed, and she knew she had won. "Okay, but I'll be right here watching for signs of distress. I'm going to knock on the window if I see any, and then you need to high-tail it out of there."

"Agreed."

He slowly cracked the door open, and Olivia appeared not to even notice, continuing with her rant. "Stop, you're hurting me."

The distress in her voice broke Amanda's heart. Olivia was still on the floor, and Amanda made her first attempts to relax her. "Olivia, it's me. It's Amanda."

At first, Olivia acted like she didn't hear, and continued fighting off the empty air. But after Amanda repeated herself, Olivia froze. "That's right, Liv. I'm here. It's going to be okay."

"Amanda?" Olivia said weakly.

"Yeah, it's me."

Olivia's breath quickened. "You need to get out before they find you here. Run!"

"It's fine, Liv. I'm going to come to you, okay?"

She held her hands out in front of her and took two cautious steps forward, but Olivia's voice tightened. "No, it's dangerous, Amanda. Please go. Can't you see them?"

Amanda kept her slow advance toward her, even as Olivia began to look around wildly. Dr. Lindstrom knocked on the window, and now Amanda wished that hadn't been the signal, because it made Olivia startle. "Liv, there's nobody here. I'm coming to you, okay?"

Olivia sat up with her back against a wall, and Amanda came at her slowly from the side. "It's okay. I'm here, and you're safe."

Other than the pounding in her chest, the room grew completely silent, and Amanda thought she must be getting through. When she got a few feet away, she sat down, not wanting to spook Olivia into a frenzy again. As soon as she was on the floor, she wondered if she'd made a mistake, because Olivia's voice grew terrified as she said, "No, no, no. Please don't. Don't hurt me."

But Amanda could see that Olivia wasn't looking at her, but at some unseen danger directly ahead of her. "It's okay, Liv. I got you. Can I take your hand?"

Olivia nodded, streaks of tears staining her face. Amanda scooted closer and gently took one of Liv's hands, saying, "It's me, Liv. I've got you. It's going to be okay."

Olivia gripped Amanda's wrist, and Amanda knew she had to act fast before she lost her again. "Just listen to my voice, okay Liv? Take some deep breaths. Here, I'll do it with you."

Joined now by a thin connection with Olivia's hand, she took an exaggerated breath and watched while Olivia breathed, haltingly and interrupted by tiny hitches. "Good, again."

They repeated the breaths, and Amanda said, "Can you look at me?"

Olivia's head twitched, but she jerkily turned her head toward Amanda. Her eyes were glazed, and Amanda couldn't tell if Liv could actually see her, but at least she was distracted from her invisible attackers. Still, she muttered under her breath occasionally. "Don't hurt me. Please just go away. Leave me alone."

Amanda felt comfortable enough to move closer now, and she scooted within inches of Olivia and took her other hand. Trying to soothe her with her voice, she said smoothly, "It's okay. Everything's okay. You're fine. I'm here for you."

Eventually, Olivia nodded, and she began to cry. Amanda saw that as a good sign. The cries led to gentle, shuddering sobs, and to Amanda's surprise, Olivia leaned toward her until she was lying down, her head in Amanda's lap. "That's good," Amanda whispered to her. She began to stroke Liv's hair, pausing only to run a thumb down her cheek. "You're safe now. Just rest."

They stayed that way for several minutes before the door clicked open, and Dr. Lindstrom stepped inside. He didn't say anything, just waved in a female nurse with a syringe in her hand. He advanced with the nurse, and Amanda said, "Liv, you're going to get a stick in the arm. It's okay. It's just going to help calm you."

Olivia didn't move, just sniffled in Amanda's lap, and Amanda kept up the soothing touch to Olivia's hair, expanding down to her shoulder and arm now. The nurse squatted down and quickly jabbed Olivia in the arm, and amazingly, she didn't even flinch.

The nurse left, and Dr. Lindstrom slowly approached until he was sitting next to Amanda. He whispered, "It won't put her completely to sleep, it'll just make her tired."

They sat in the same positions for what Amanda estimated to be about fifteen or twenty minutes, Amanda and the doctor whispering softly to one another, Amanda continuing to stroke Olivia's head and shoulder. Eventually, Olivia sat up and rubbed her half-opened eyes. The tears started up again, but these tears were different. "Liv, you okay?" Amanda gently pried.

"Yeah," she said, without making eye contact. And then she followed up with a soft "No, I'm not. Doctor, what the hell is wrong with me?"

That's when Amanda knew that Olivia was back with them in the world of sanity again. But the gravity of the situation exhausted her, and now she wished she could trade places with Olivia and rest her head in Liv's lap, instead of having to watch the woman she admired and loved fall to pieces.

Part 4.

Olivia almost wished that she never had to see anyone she knew again. They could leave her here, locked up in this padded room, to live out her crazy on her own. Or she could go live under a bridge, be the old woman with the wild hair shouting out obscenities at any passing stranger. But at least she wouldn't have to see the alarm and pity in the eyes of people who had once respected her.

The trails of gleaming, warped lights still streamed through her vision, glinting off the bright white padding of her cell. But she no longer saw the monsters who had pursued her into this corner of the psych ward, reserved for only the most insane of the crazies. Dr. Lindstrom watched her, presumably for signs that she was going to fly off into another delirious episode.

"You completely with us, Liv?" he asked.

She bristled at the question but answered without sarcasm. "Yeah, no more hallucinations for now."

"Are you seeing any other visual effects, like light trails, after images, fractals?"

She rubbed her eyes again. "I don't know what all that means, but yeah, things are a little distorted."

He gave one curt nod. "I think I know what's causing this, and it's more than just PTSD. I did some research, and I think you have a rare condition called Hallucinogen Persisting Perception Disorder. Shortened it's HPPD. Basically it's flashbacks from the MDMA you were given. I'm sure the PTSD makes it worse. It throws you back into the same hallucinations you had when Clark abducted you."

"So what do we do about it?"

They were all still sitting cross-legged on the floor of the padded room, and Dr. Lindstrom said, "Do you want to go sit somewhere else? We can go into the common space now, or there's a room—"

"No, Doctor. I don't want to take the chance of hurting anyone."

"Oh, I don't think you're a danger anymore."

Her weary body was a weight that wanted nothing more to settle back down into the cushiony flooring underneath her. "I'm not leaving. Answer my question, Peter."

He leaned forward to rest his hand on hers, and her stomach knotted. "There's not much that helps, Olivia. Eventually, it usually just wears off."

"How long does that take?"

"It varies—"

"How long, Doctor?" She didn't want to raise her voice, she wasn't mad at him. But she had to know, for the sake of her future.

"It can last up to five years. Occasionally longer. There have been cases of it lasting twenty years or more. But it might also lessen over time."

She threw her hands over her eyes. "Oh, God."

"Usually, cases of this aren't as severe as yours, but I think the hallucinations combined with the trauma set it off worse in you. There's things we can try, medications that might help. But no cure."

She rubbed the sweat and tears off her face, stunned to silence. Amanda moved in closer and put an arm around her. "I'm sorry, Olivia." She opened her mouth to say something else, but nothing came out, and she closed her lips. Of course, there was nothing to say. What did you tell someone who just found out they were going to be attacked by invisible rapists for the next five years?

Dr. Lindstrom prompted her once more. "Liv, we should get you out of here."

She hung her head. "I don't want to leave. I should stay in here. This is where I belong."

"No, Liv," he insisted. "That wouldn't be good for you."

"If the hallucinations are going to keep coming back, it's the only way to keep everyone safe."

"Absolutely not, Liv. Even if I agreed that this was the best place for you, they can't keep you in this room permanently. It's supposed to be temporary. The hospital has a duty to keep you in the least restrictive environment, and they are required to keep you out of here as much as possible. It's a litigation issue."

She shook her head, but stood, and both Dr. Lindstrom and Amanda held out a hand to help her up. She wanted to say, "I'm crazy, not disabled," but she knew she was just crabby from stress and exhaustion.

"Where should we go?" she said.

"How about your room," Dr. Lindstrom suggested. "You need to rest."

"I don't want to go in there," she said. "It feels like the walls are closing in."

"How about if I go with you, and stay for a while?" Amanda said.

After a second to think about it, Olivia nodded, suddenly feeling a little lighter.

Dr. Lindstrom patted her on the shoulder. "I'll come by again tomorrow. Call me in the meantime if you need me. Any time, Olivia. I'll be here."