The bathroom is disgusting. It's been disgusting since you first came here seven years ago and with all the
money the NYPD has spent on this precinct since then they hadn't thought to sort out the goddamned bathroom. It's an effort to stay crouched and your legs are burning but you won't kneel on the floor if you can help it. You pull in a deep breath, try to settle your stomach and hope that it's pitiful contents won't make a reappearance. It's little more than cheap coffee and the donuts Fin had made everyone eat this morning, but you'd rather not vomit anyway.
You sigh and it echoes in the empty bathroom, and you give in just a little bit, moving forward to let your elbows rest on the toilet seat, and drop your head into your hands. You haven't been able to push it out of your mind, the voices of those two little girls sobbing in terror on the phone, held captive as their estranged father made threats and demands. The day had started with a kidnapping case, and had ended with an murder-suicide.
The door of the bathroom swings open and you stay quiet, hoping whoever it is will just do their business and go but they linger in the doorway for a second.
"Rollins you in here?"
You keep quiet, hoping that Kat might take a hint but she knocks on every door lightly until she gets to the stall you're hiding in and you know she won't give up.
"You okay?" She doesn't try to clarify who's in the stall, she knows it's you.
"I saw you come in here a while ago I just wanted to check if-"
"Yeah I'm good, just give me a minute." Thankfully your stomach has stopped churning just enough for you to be able to stand up on shaky legs and flush the toilet. You close your eyes and have a few seconds to compose yourself before you open the door.
Kat looks like hell. She's pale, her hair thrown back into the messiest ponytail you've even seen on the young detective and her eyes are ringed red like she's been crying. Not that you're surprised, it was a hideous case. Kat had been with Liv when they'd broken the news to the girls' mother, selfishly you'd been so relieved when she'd volunteered for that job but you'd heard the mother's screams anyway. Gut wrenching, primal wails of despair.
You look like hell too, you realise as you catch sight of yourself in the grubby mirror while you wash your hands.
"We had a couple officers drive Lucy Miller to her parents." Kat explains. Her voice is shaky like she might cry, and you hope she doesn't because you're not strong enough to deal with that right now. "Captain Benson's gone home."
You're not surprised at that news. Liv had looked as sick as you felt when you'd realised what had happened in that cellar and you'd heard her on the phone to Noah in the car on the way back from the crime scene, saying goodnight and that she loved him.
It had made you feel guilty, like you should've phoned Jesse and told her the same, asked her to hold the phone to Billie's ear so you could say good night to her too. But you hadn't been able to bring yourself to, knowing just hearing Jesse's sweet little voice would have broken you right then and there in the squad car.
"Me and Fin are going to grab a drink though, I know you probably want to get home but I just wanted to see if you wanted to come?"
It's sweet of her to ask, even though you can tell she already knows you'll decline.
"Thanks but I gotta get back to the girls."
"Sitter on the clock?" Kat asks, and you just nod your head.
Carisi is with the girls. He has them most nights now when he's not working late. You weren't doing anything wrong technically, once Dominic had left the squad you'd been free to pursue your relationship without any worry of HR getting involved. But it's still not something either of you want to publicise. Not yet. You're sure that Fin knows, because that man is able to read you like a book. But he's always been discreet. And always on your side.
"Another time okay?" You offer. It's a sincere offer too because you know you got off on the wrong foot with Kat. She reminds you so much of your younger self. So much it was jarring when juxtaposed against the person you are now. She's you without the trauma and the family baggage and she'll be a much better detective one day than you could ever hope to be.
"Kat this case was-" You're not even sure what you're trying to say, if it'll even be helpful when you can't even reliably manage to hold yourself together. "Don't let it consume you. This job… find a healthy outlet to blow off steam okay?" You don't say any more than that but Kat nods. You've not told her directly about your gambling addiction but she's perceptive, she's been there when you've said no to office pools and lottery tickets.
"Do you need a ride home?" Kat asks as you move towards the door.
"It's still pouring with rain out there." She says as you shake your head.
"The walk'll do me good. It's not far. Say bye to Fin for me will ya?"
As it turns out, the walk home gave you nothing but time for the sickening events of the day to replay over and over in your head. The coffee and donuts finally came up about two blocks from your apartment, sending you stumbling into an alley to vomit in peace. After a brief detour into a bodega for a bottle of water to wash out your mouth you arrived at your building, your heart racing as fast as it had been earlier, and you marvel at your body not yet running out of adrenaline.
The rain has plastered your clothes to your body, the light jacket you had on had been no match for the deluge you just walked through. It's so wet that your keys slip out of your hand when you get them out of your bag.
"Dammit." You curse as you bend to pick them up. You're annoyed when you feel tears pricking your eyes against the slight inconvenience and you shake your head, trying to shake them away.
The apartment is so quiet when you get in you can hear the water from your soaked clothes dripping on the hardwood floor. You take off the ruined jacked and slip your shoes off, walking in damp socks down the hall. It's past midnight so the girls are definitely asleep but you can't help but push open the door to their bedroom.
A breath catches in your throat when you see them sleeping peacefully in the gentle glow of the nightlight, golden hair poking out from underneath their blankets. You grip the doorframe, trying so hard to not break down but your heart hurts so much. When you'd heard that mother screaming for her babies today it was almost as if you were feeling her pain too. It was unimaginable, the thought of anything happening to the most precious things in your life.
"Amanda." Dominic says your name softly, announcing his presence so he doesn't startle you.
"Rough case?" He asks, then his hand is warm on your shoulder and you know exactly what you need to distract you from that harrowing thoughts that have staked a claim in your consciousness.
It's ironic, you think, because you've just been preaching about this to Kat but you have tried the healthy coping mechanisms. You'd even tried therapy. But you haven't been able to step foot inside a therapists' office since what happened with Bucci. You don't gamble anymore, not even those scratch off lottery tickets. You don't even drink much really. There's no more late nights in bars, no more mindless sex with strangers. Because sex with Dominic is never mindless.
You wonder if it could be.
He doesn't have a chance to react as you pull the girls' bedroom door shut then grab his hoody, pressing your lips against his in such a frenzy that he kisses you back.
His hands slip around your waist pushing up the damp shirt but he's being too gentle and you pull him to the other side of the hall and use the momentum to let his body slam yours against the wall. Then his hands are gripping your hips as you're untying his sweatpants and you find yourself hoping that his fingers will leave bruises there, so that you can feel something other than the bone deep ache that has settled within you the minute you'd found those two tiny bodies.
You pull away from his lips for a moment, stopping and trying to swallow the wave of nausea as the image comes into your mind. The two tiny bundles, their perfect tiny faces, the sickening smell of iron and the blood that had seeped through the pink blankets, dying patches of the wool crimson.
Dominic reaches up, puts one hand on your shoulder and cups your cheek with the other and he steps back just a little bit, puts enough space between you that you drop the drawstring you've been fumbling with. Enough space so he can tip your head up to make you actually look at him.
"Hey." He's speaking so softly, barely above a whisper and he's moving his thumb so gently, almost imperceptibly across the damp skin of your cheekbone. "Slow down a minute okay?"
He studies your face, and he looks at you like he can see straight through to your soul. Like he knows everything about you even before you do.
"Please." You put both of your hands against his chest and you can feel his heart beating. "Please." You hate how desperate you sound, but you are desperate and if he looks at you like that for too long you might just break.
"You're not…" he sighs. "This isn't what you need."
"I need to feel something Dominic. Please." You plead.
He shakes his head softly and slips his hand down to take yours in his, linking your fingers together. He raises your joined hands to his lips and kisses your fingers gently. Then he moves, tugging you towards the bedroom and you're relieved that he's finally giving in. He flips the bedside lamp on and it fills the room with soft yellow light.
You let him undress you and he's more tender than you really want while he's getting rid of the wet clothes but you indulge him this. The window is slightly open and the cool breeze on your damp skin makes you shiver. The rain is still hammering against the pavement outside and the rhythmic motion of it is almost soothing.
Almost.
Then he's taking off his NYPD hoody and you move towards him, but instead of throwing it to the floor like he's done with your discarded clothes he slips the oversized garment over your head. You barely even have a chance to react as he manoeuvres your arms into the sleeves deftly, it's obvious he's practiced this a hundred times.
"What are you doing?" But even as you protest the unexpected action, the hoody is warm against your chilled skin, and it smells like Dominic's aftershave and in that moment you realise that that makes you feel safe.
"You're exhausted Amanda." He's got both of your hands in his and gives your fingers a gentle squeeze. "You need to sleep."
"No, no I'm-" The panic rises up and threatens to steal your breath. If you dared to stop and acknowledge how tired you are there would be no way to keep the feelings from overwhelming you.
"I'm here okay? I got you." He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss against your forehead.
"Dammit." You whisper, finally losing the battle against the tears you'd been fighting all evening. They spill out on to your cheeks and there's nothing you can do to stop them now.
"Come on." Dominic moves towards the bed and pulls the covers down.
"We didn't save them Dominic." You sob, finally letting the horror of the day truly wash over you.
"I know." He says quietly, and you wonder if maybe Fin has called him and given him a heads up.
When you're both laying on the bed, Dominic pulls the covers back up and when he gently tucks them around you you realise you're still shivering.
"They weren't much older than the girls." You manage to choke out, and he wraps his arms around you, holds you as closely as he can.
"I know." He repeats softly.
"The whole time I was just thinkin' what if I was that mom?" What if they were… what if…" You press your head into his chest, and you're making a sound not unlike the one the distraught mother had made earlier.
"But you're not, and they're not. Jesse and Billie are safe, they're safe. Okay? They're safe. Look at me."
You force yourself to raise your head slightly, look up at him with blurry eyes. But you can't quite catch your breath as you fight the sobs.
"Easy, hey, easy." He's so gentle in that moment, running his hand down your back to try and get you to slow down that it makes you cry harder.
You realise that no one has ever loved you like this before. No one has ever loved you enough that you've felt safe enough to be this vulnerable with them. To bare the weakest parts of yourself and them not run the other way.
"I got you Amanda." He says, letting you drop your head against his chest chest, letting you soak his t-shirt with your tears. "I got you."