A/N: This is a two-shot set right after Amanda walks away from Lindsay Bennett's dead body. If you haven't watched the episode 'Girl dishonored' keep in mind that there will be spoilers.
Also the story is rated M for a reason, please keep that in mind. We'll be dealing with rape and suicidal thoughts, sexual theme, so please read carefully.
Now, on to the story enjoy!
"I just talked to her yesterday."
"This isn't your fault, Amanda. You did everything you could. Come on." She tries to take her by the arm, take her away from the scene, but Amanda doesn't let her. That's not what she wants now.
"No, no. She was pink clouding and I knew it."
She walks away from Olivia, from Lindsay's dead body, not interested in listening to the other woman saying how this wasn't her fault. She has heard this speech so many times that she's grown tired of it.
The minute she is out of sight from the rest of her colleagues she turns around a corner and empties her stomach's contents. The image of the young girl on the ground never leaving her head. Her voice always haunting her mind.
Goodbye, detective Rollins.
She brings back the image of Lindsay, with a broad smile on her face walking away from her. And the next time she saw her was on the ground. She had thrown herself of a roof.
How did she let this happen? How could she let this shy, young and innocent ginger haired girl walk away from her when she knew this behavior better than anyone? She has been pink clouding her entire life, from personal experience she should have dragged that girl by the hand and tell her that this was not the way to deal with it.
She should have told her that she is here, she should have made her stay and listen, help her cry, scream, anything that would help her get it all out of her system.
But that would make her a major hypocrite.
Why? Because, she just walked away from her fellow detective, her friend of some sorts, pretending that she could handle this. That she could handle the fact that a victim under her care just committed suicide. Pretending like she hasn't been thinking about the same thing every goddamn day for the past two years now. Pretending like she won't go into a bar right now and drink more than she can take.
Because that's exactly what she does. She walks into a bar near campus. She didn't want to drive, she couldn't. She had driven with Olivia here, she couldn't just take the car and go wherever she wanted to. So she walked to that bar that she has never seen before.
She walks in like she owns the place, like she didn't throw up just ten minutes ago. She walks in and she tells herself that it's okay to have a drink. That after the week she's had she deserves a drink.
She shouldn't. But she sits on a stool at the bar anyway. She waves at the bartender anyway.
"Neat Jack, make it double." She says not sparing a second to even look at him. She doesn't want to look at him she just wants his services not his judgment.
She takes off her blue jacket, puts her phone on the bar and waits. Waits to savor the brown liquid, to feel that well known, burning sensation in her throat. Waits to feel the lightheadedness. Because that's what she needs to forget. Even if it's going to be for a few hours, she needs to forget about him. And she needs to forget those blue eyes of Lindsay Bennett's.
Because who knew what she would do if she kept them in her memory for one more second.
"It's kind of early-"
"Do I look like I care?" She snaps at the bartender, a quite handsome man in his early thirties, who just raises his hands in surrender and walks away.
At least he left her drink because that's all that matters to her now. One sip and the glass was empty. She played with it, ran circles with her fingers over the rim. When did she end up like that? Finding comfort in a glass of scotch?
She doesn't remember. And as she told the bartender she doesn't care. She just lost a girl, she is allowed to feel whatever the hell she wants to feel. Who is going to stop her? The bartender? He would never, he needs her money. Other patrons? There weren't any.
Normally this should be enough to alarm her but it clearly doesn't because she raises her hand again, waiting for this blond haired man behind the bar to notice her. He does, she smiles.
"Refill." His smile is tight, he looks at her, he knows something is wrong but he doesn't want to bother her. She doesn't look like she is here to talk. So he just takes her glass and refills it as he was asked.
"Thanks." She says as he puts the drink down in front of her. "And sorry for snapping at you." She is being nice. She knows she'll be here for some time so she chooses to be kind to him. He looks so pretty she thinks she might end up banging his brains out.
Maybe if she feels the bartender's hands she will stop thinking of him.
She knows this is not how it goes, she has tried this before. She comes hard, she tells them what a great night she had and kicks them out of the house. They tell her to call if she feels the need. Sure will is all she tells them and once they are out the door a bottle of vodka or whatever liquor is available will be on her lips and tears will be staining her cheeks.
That's always how it goes.
"It's okay. Bad day?" He asks while drying the recently washed glasses with a towel.
"Bad is an understatement." She scoffs and takes a small sip. The first one goes down quickly because she wants the effects of the alcohol to make an appearance as soon as possible but she always takes her time with the second.
"Take it easy there, huh? Wouldn't want you getting shitfaced." He smiles, teeth n'all, and she plays along. She knows she shouldn't, she knows what he wants and she is willing to give it to him as long as she gets something in return.
"Don't worry, hon, I can hold down my liquor." She raises her glass at him. To you, she basically tells him and takes another sip.
He is about to say something when her phone vibrates on the wooden surface. She sees who it is, the name, her name and she doesn't pick up. She presses the red button on her screen and turns her attention back on the bartender.
"You were sayin'?" She smiles at him, her right cheek resting on the hand that holds the glass.
"You have an accent. South?" He is charming. She knows that charm, she's seen it before. Every single one of them is one and the same with the other.
First they go with her accent, then they ask what is a girl like her doing at a place like this and then they flirt openly, making their intentions clear but always giving her an option to back off. At least in the beginning.
He didn't let her back off. She tried to but he didn't let her.
"Yeah, Georgia." One more sip, one more smile. Her dimples and her accent was her charm, her way of getting laid. Other people had the face, the figure, the words but Amanda was just born and raised this way.
"And what is a southern girl like yourself, doing in a place like this, in that time of day?"
Didn't I tell you? They always go with that line. They think they can fool her and she lets them because at least she knows that things happened the other way around. She fools them into believing that she is easy and they buy it.
"Trying to escape from life for a few hours." She sighed and after taking the last sip she puts down her glass again. She waits for what comes next because it's always the same thing.
"How about another one? That one on me." He winks.
She expected it. There was a pattern with bartenders. It's like they have a secret club or something. They all use the same MO, the same pick up lines. It should make her sick to her stomach but it doesn't. It just makes things easier for her.
"Sure." She slides her glass over to him and waits.
She ignores her phone that vibrates again on the table, she ignores her name, she presses the button to decline the call once again. Why can't that woman just take no for an answer? For the same reasons as he, she guesses.
No, she can't compare her to him. She is so much better than him. She shakes her head when the handsome figure appears in front of her again.
"You know, you're buyin' me drinks and I don't even know your name." She looks him in the eyes, they are green. She likes green, she can work with green.
"Luke." He extends his hand for a handshake.
"Amanda, nice to meet you Luke." She likes the way his name comes out of her lips.
Luke.
That's her poison's name today. She liked it. She likes him.
He never leaves her side. He asks her all kinds of questions; how did she end up in Manhattan, how was life in the south, what does she do for a living. She doesn't tell him she is a cop, it usually scares them away. That's why she had hidden her badge and her gun in her coat. She can't afford him walking away.
"I am a nurse." That's her go to story. Working special victims has you in n'out of hospitals a lot, she had picked up a thing or two. It had slipped from her mouth once, she still doesn't know how but it happened.
She has embraced her alter ego, Amanda the nurse. She was better than Amanda the lousy cop, who can't do her job properly.
"A nurse, huh? Shouldn't you be at the hospital at this time of day?" He is not judging her, he is just making light conversation. She likes that about him. She is tired of being judged.
"I... I lost a girl today. Hit me hard, they told me to take the rest of the day off." Partially truthful answer. She has never done that before. Maybe it's the third scotch that goes down her throat too quickly for her liking.
She is eager, too eager, to take Luke home.
Her phone screen lights up, she has a text. It's from her, she is worried, probably, she doesn't know for sure, she doesn't open the message. Another one arrived only a few seconds after the first one, from her again. She doesn't open that one either.
"Seems like you are a wanted woman." He jokes and she chuckles. She is definitely getting laid today. She hasn't gotten a decent fuck in months, she needs this. She needs to forget. She needs Luke.
"Do you want me?" She whispers seductively while standing up a bit from the stool so their faces are close. Close enough that if she moves an inch their lips will meet.
"My shift is over in five. The question is your place or mine?" He speaks in the same tone, she likes that he plays along, she could get used to this.
"How long is your place from here?" Her eyes move from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes. She is testing him, teasing him. She needs to make herself more desirable, she needs to have him today. She bites down on her lip. His breath hitches.
He is hers.
"A ten minute walk." He says, she sits back on the stool and she downs the remains of her drink.
"Then your place it is, Luke."
He brings her another glass while they wait for his shift to be over. The numbest she feels by the time they are at his place the better. He brings her another one and tells her that this, too, is on him. The minute she walked through the door, the minute she started talking to him, he knew what she was there for. And who was he to say no to a gorgeous blonde, right?
It started the moment the elevator's door closed. She wasn't like all the other he's met. He is usually the one to make the first move but instead, today, she is the one who pushes him against the small cubicles' walls, kissing him fiercely.
She is a good kisser, it's sloppy because it's a drunk kiss, a fast kiss but good nonetheless. She knows what she wants and she is not shy about it. He likes her. He likes her a lot.
They stumble out of the small box, his hands are on her waste and hers are already working on his belt buckle. She is impatient.
"Wait, let's get inside first, huh?" He says in between kisses because she just won't get off him. He enjoys the way she is all over him and he bets she knows it; he is hard. Very hard.
"Fine, whatever." She mumbles and puts her feet down. He is so much taller than her that she had to tiptoe in order to kiss him. He thinks it's cute, she thinks it's frustrating.
He holds her hand in his while he fumbles with the keys and tries to open his apartment door. She rolls her eyes, because what the hell is taking him so long? When the door unlocks, it takes a lot of strength to not say 'finally' so she just lets him guide her inside.
He slams her against the door to close it shut and damn it hurt but pain is welcome today. Pain is welcome every day until she can't feel anything anymore.
"Bed." She says on top of his lips. He hums in response as he pulls off her jacket and lets it fall on the floor. She does the same with his and then he grabs her by the thighs and lifts her up.
She yelps, she is surprised, but she follows his lead. He wraps her legs and arms around him, kissing him even more hungrily than before. She walks towards what must be the bedroom and she is glad. She is glad because today she gets what she wants.
She doesn't know when they took their clothes off but it must have been really fast because she is on her back now, on his bed her legs spread not a stitch of clothing covering her body.
Or his for that matter. Well, except for the condom but she is not sure if that counts.
He is in front of her on his knees but he doesn't move, he stares. She starts feeling a little insecure, thinking that now that he's seen her naked maybe he doesn't like her, maybe he'll back off.
"What?" She asks but she dreads the answer to her question.
"Nothing you... you are very beautiful." He chuckles nervously.
What the hell was that all about? That's a first. Usually one night stands are quick and messy, nobody had ever taken a moment to look at her, appreciate her. She doesn't know how to feel.
"You are not half but yourself there." She smiles sheepishly. Now she's shy. She practically devoured him a few minutes later, no shame at all, and now she remembers to be shy.
He gets on top of her and he kisses her sweetly. Why is he being so sentimental? She doesn't know, she doesn't care. All she cares about is how he is already positioned in her entrance and he is big. Very big.
He takes her hands in his, interlaces their fingers and brings them next to her head. Not above, next. She got lucky tonight.
"Are you sure? You've had a lot to drink." That's also a first. They never ask, they just take. Had she just found a man with a conscience?
"Fuck me." She whispers against his ear and he does just that.
He pushes himself inside of her slowly, exploring first. She is dripping wet so slipping in was easy but she is tight. So damn tight that he needs to take it slow, he doesn't want to injure her.
He is a guy with a conscience. He didn't think of her. He had left her with scars for life. He didn't ask.
"Harder." She says and harder he goes after a little while.
She knows that in a few minutes she'll be coming like crazy. He is good, he is huge, he is exactly what she had been looking for. For months.
His hand is on the side of her neck now, his thumb caresses her cheek, her jaw, the front of her throat. There is a thought in her mind, a what was supposed to be a fleeting thought but nestled inside her head.
"Squeeze." She says between moans and gasps for air. She is close, so close.
"What?" He thinks he's misheard, no woman has ever asked him that before. He is not a big fan of it but some days he liked it. He'd always ask and whatever the answer was it didn't bother him.
With her hand she grabbed his wrist and adjusted it better around her throat.
"Squeeze." She says again.
He sits back on his knees taking her with him. The quick change of positions makes her scream from both pain and pleasure.
He gives her the option to stop whenever she feels that it's getting too much, she nods and he tightens the hold around her throat. Her moans and gasps fill the room, they both know that the neighbors have probably heard them but they don't give a damn.
She wants to blame her actions on the alcohol but she knows that she is not drunk. She can hold down her liquor.
She can barely breathe now, his hold is tight, maybe too tight. She keeps her eyes closed her mouth open, trying to take in as much air as possible and then, after a few more thrusts she is coming and she's coming hard.
"Fu-uck." She chokes out. "St-op." He hears it and as promised he lets go of her throat and wraps his arms around her. She coughs loudly and he just looks at her worried. His own release is seconds away but he waits to see how she is.
"You okay, Amanda?" She nods and after the coughing has stopped he looks straight into his eyes. From the way he is breathing the way he feels inside of her, she knows. She nods again, silently telling him that it's okay, that he can continue.
And just as expected, less than twenty seconds later he was done. He pulled out and laid next to her on the bed. Her breathing was heavy, she can't remember the last time she's had such an intense orgasm. And a part of her wants to blame it on the alcohol or the long time without any sexual activity but she's done those before.
But she's never been choked before. Willingly, choked.
She feels tears in her eyes, where did this come from? What was she thinking? She wants to get out of here but Luke has been so nice to her.
"Hey, are you okay? Did you regret this?" He turns on his side to look at her, concern in his voice.
He is not a sentimental guy, never has been, when he saw her the only thing he thought was what a good fuck she would be but he looked into her eyes and he saw something that made him reconsider things.
He saw pain.
"Wha- no, no I didn't regret it. We are good. I... I really liked it. I just need to go, my friend is probably worried." She rushes to stand up, she feels a little dizzy and she doesn't know if it's the aftermath of her orgasm or what she asked him to do to her.
"She probably is." He just watches her getting dressed. Putting on her panties, bra. Her black jeans, her white shirt. "Hey, if you want me again, you know where to find me." She raises her head just in time to see him wink. He gives her a half smile and he reminds her of him.
She needs to get the hell out of there.
"Sure will. Bye Luke." She zips up her high heeled boot, grabs her winter jacket from the floor next to the door and leaves.
Once she is out of the building she lets the tears that had been lingering in her eyes fall. He was so good with her and he ruined it. He always ruins it. Everything after what he did to her feels ruined.
She is ruined, too.
She looks around to see where exactly is she and when it finally sinks in she sobs. Her house is at least an hour on foot from here. Her legs are shaking, she can't walk so she hails for a cab. It takes seconds before the yellow vehicle is next to her. She gets in, she gives him her address. It's too far away, he doesn't like it.
"I'll give you the double if you just keep quiet." And he keeps quiet. Because he probably wouldn't make this much money anyway.
She takes her phone out of her pocket when she feels it vibrating continually on her side. There it is, her name again. She doesn't need a lecture from her right now. She declines the call and she sees on her screen that she has over a dozen missed calls and at least twice as more texts. Not only from her but from Fin and Amaro as well. She sees one text from Cragen and that's the only one she opens.
If you are to do something stupid, go to a meeting.
The text read and she chuckles. She wants to do something stupid, she already did something stupid but gambling is not what she has in mind. She has an apartment to refurnish, she can't afford placing bets.
She sees the text but she doesn't bother to reply. Maybe when she gets home. She wouldn't leave the man who practically saved her life without a goodbye. Him, her or anyone else for that matter.
The cab stops in front of her building, she leaves him a hundred dollars which is a lot of money for a cab ride but she thinks he could use the money more than her. He smiles gratefully at her for her kindness and she smiles back, getting out of the car feeling a little better about the way she treated the driver.
She has a few money left so she goes at the liquor store. Maybe if she did that, she wouldn't do the other thing. It's wishful thinking, she knows it. But once again, she doesn't care.
Jack was her poison today. Jack and Luke. She chuckles to herself as she walks out of the elevator to her floor but stops dead in her tracks when she sees her there.
"Liv?" She acts surprised, like she didn't expect to see her there. She did, of course she did, but the blonde act is always the best act.
The other woman was sitting on the floor, knees bend, head resting on the wall. When she nears her voice she stands up and goes up to her, pulling her in for a tight hug. She clearly doesn't care about the bag fool of alcohol between them.
Amanda is startled. Olivia was never the one to show any kind of affection, at least towards her.
"Do you have any idea how scared I was?" She whispers in her ear and was that in her voice tears? How many firsts is she going to live today.
Because Olivia Benson crying was a first.
"Liv... air." She says in a light manner, trying to brush everything off as if it was nothing. Like she hadn't just fallen off the face of earth for Lord knows how many hours.
"Yeah, sorry." She pulls back abruptly and Amanda walks passed the brunette to unlock the door to her apartment.
"How long have you been standing out there?" She asks as she puts the brown paper bag with the booze down on the counter.
Olivia doesn't speak, she is stunned by the emptiness of the apartment, she hasn't been in here since Amanda shot and killed Jeff. She is also stunned by the fact that Amanda has bought alcohol in the middle of the day.
"Earth to Liv." She asks with a chuckle.
"Sorry, um, about twenty minutes. I was gonna leave but neighbor told me that you weren't home yet, I thought that you'd stop by at some point." She shrugged.
"I am sure you can see the couch. It's the only thing in the room. Go, sit." She makes poor attempts to joke, lighten up the mood, but Olivia was beyond worried about her.
"Amanda, what were you thinking? Do you know how scared we were?" She takes off her coat and walks towards the couch. Throwing it on the floor doesn't feel like an option so she rests is on the couch's back cushions.
"Ugh, Liv, If I wanted a lecture I would have called my mother." She rolls her eyes and decides that right now she needs a drink.
She opens the brand new bottle of Jack Daniel's and pours it into a mug. Because the only thing she's bought so far except for the couch is a mug. And alcohol, always alcohol.
"Rollins, what are you doing? Isn't it a bit too early?" She uses her last name, she's pissed.
She feels hot and she realizes that she still has her winter jacket on. With quick moves she takes it off and throws it over the counter, she doesn't care that this is not the place for it, she doesn't have the luxury to care right now.
I've decided it never happened, I've let it go.
She downs the brown liquor and pours another one. She hears Olivia sighing, judging her about what she's doing. Maybe pink clouding is the solution after all.
"Look, Liv, I am sorry I worried you. I am fine, I am just processing what happened. You should go." She needs to prove to the other woman that she is okay so half heartedly she throws the brown liquid down the drain and turns to look at the brunette.
She is about to speak but the horrified look on Olivia's face stops her and instead a question comes from between her lips: "What?"
"Amanda, did someone hurt you?" She is on her feet again, she comes close, she doesn't want her close. Why does she have to ask all these questions? Why does she have this need to pry? Why is she touching he-
"Don't touch me!" She steps back and so does Olivia. It came out harsher and more petrified than she had meant for it to. "Just please don't touch me." She whispers.
"Amanda, I am not gonna hurt you." She hears her soft voice, it's her, not him. He is not here anymore. Olivia is here.
Just focus on Olivia.
"I know, I know. Nobody hurt me, I am fine." She doesn't sound convincing, not even in the least bit but that's all she's got at the moment.
"Fine?! It's still bright outside and you are drinking, plus you have a handprint on your neck. You are not fine." She is mad and she lets the anger take the better of her.
It takes all her strength for Amanda to not curl into a ball on the floor and burst into tears. He was angry too, she doesn't want angry.
Wait, did Olivia day she has a handprint on her neck? Where did she-
Luke. Damn it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"I am okay, nothing happened to me." She averts her gaze, she is ashamed. No one was supposed to see that, it was for her eyes only.
"Amanda, if something happened to you there is no need to be asha-"
"Ever heard of rough sex, Benson?" She spits out her name like it's poison but this woman standing in front of her is the least harmful compared to her other habits. She just needs her to back off and she'll do anything to get there.
The close proximity, the fury in her eyes, it all reminds her of him and the urge to do something stupid is so strong that she feels like Luke's hand is around her throat again. But this time the lack of air is not as pleasant.
"Honey, why are you doing this to yourself?" She brings her hand up and with her knuckles, she caresses Amanda's cheek.
Her touch is soft she is not him.
"Lindsay Bennett." She whispers.
"Honey, what happened to Lindsay wasn't your fault." She hears her say again.
"That's... that's not what I mean. You don't understand." She shakes her head, avoiding meeting Olivia's gaze by all means.
"Then help me understand." Her voice is so soft, so kind. Amanda caves in.
"I am doing this so I won't end up like Lindsay Bennett."
