From beneath the pant legs of the pale blue scrubs, Amanda's work boots clicked against the tile, echoing down the darkened, silent hall. Since James's departure, the maximum security wing had become even more hauntingly quiet, instilling a sense of trepidation into her already churning stomach.
It had been weeks since she'd first come face to face with Lewis and his unsettling smile in the park. In some ways it felt like only yesterday; in other's this nightmare seemed to consume years. She wasn't completely sure of how she would feel upon laying eyes on him again, and nerves bloomed in wild patches in her core.
Clenching her teeth against her quick, shallow exhales, she crept down the hall towards 1142. Her hands squeezed into fists as she drew closer to the heavy, metal door. The paint was an off beige and the numbers affixed to it stared back at her like a taunting dare.
She stood in front of it, wavering between reckless anger and undiluted fear. The only barrier between them now was this door, and though she knew his injuries were extensive some parts of her could not forget the things Olivia has told her and the carnage she had seen. Furthermore, her knowledge of his cunning escapes did nothing to quell the anxiety burgeoning in her chest and throat.
Swallowing thickly, she reached up unclip the badge from the shirt. She ignored the face and name imprinted on it, avoiding the guilt of endangering an innocent person's career and reputation. She hesitated another moment, her hand wavering towards the door, struggling to prepare herself for walking into the devil's lair.
Pressing her eyes shut, she mustered the courage which had come so easily last night when the idea of coming here had been but a seed inside her mind. She'd told James she wasn't afraid of Lewis, but she was grateful he wasn't here now to witness her cowardly hesitation.
Heaving a deep breath, she opened her eyes and swiped the badge before she could second guess herself again. The mechanism beeped loudly inside the empty hall, flashing green as the door unlocked. She reached out with one trembling hand, skimming her fingers over the surface of the door as it swung open slowly.
Beyond her, a dark chasm yawned, holding the source of her torment for all these weeks. Her eyes adjusted slowly as she stood at the threshold, grasping at the threads of her composure. As his figure upon the bed materialized from inside the blackness, she didn't know whether to beat her fists into his face and scream or to sink to the ground where she stood, overwhelmed and terrified.
He was surrounded by machines, the heart monitor, and the IV drip. As she stepped forward, hesitantly, she could see his broken body, bandaged in a mummy-like appearance, thick casts encasing one leg and his arm. The ventilator tube snaked down his throat, and she watched it fill his lungs with the slow rise and fall of his chest. She could hear the beeping of the machines, but it was background noise below the white noise that filled her ears.
She took a step forward, uncertainly, and her heart jolted as the door fell shut heavily behind her. She glanced back for half a second at her point of escape, swallowing hard against a dry throat. In reality, she still had time to change her mind, to run back to the bathroom and discard the stolen scrubs; but in her own mind, there was no turning back now.
Her boots clicked against the tile as she approached the bedside, slowly, putting sparse inches between herself and the predator they'd chased for a week, arriving too late to relieve him of this suffering. At the time, all she'd been able to think of was finding Olivia, but witnessing this aftermath now, she realized that this was the only silver lining she'd ever find.
She hovered next to the bed, rigidly gazing down at his mangled face. The entire left side of his face was covered in gauze, but she could see his right lid twitching. She wondered if he could sense her presence, and whether he was truly asleep or not.
"You remember me, don't you?" She whispered, her voice emitting loud and husky in the chillingly silent room.
The heart monitor beeped beside her, counting out pulsing seconds in which both their hearts raced a little faster. His lid fluttered for half a second, and her heart seized at the possibility of him becoming fully conscious, but with renewed vengeance throbbing inside her, she refused to step back.
"It's Amanda, remember." She breathed. "The one you couldn't fool with your little innocent act. You thought you were gonna wiggle your way out, just like you always do… but not this time."
Clenching her teeth against halting breaths, she stepped closer to the bed until her thighs touched the edge of the mattress. The longer she stared at him, the harder her stomach turned. She could hardly stand the sight of him as Olivia's hollow tone echoed through her mind with grotesque recollections.
She bent down over him, teeth gritted. It was as close as she had been to him since handcuffing him in the park, but even through the medicinal scent of the hospital filling her nostrils, she could somehow still smell his sweat, the burned flesh from his fingers, the rancid odor of his breath.
"You're fucking pathetic. Look at you now. Not worth the money they're spending to keep a worthless sack of shit like you alive." She sneered in a low, husky tone, raking her eyes down his body to where the morphine control button was clutched in his hand.
Snatching it from his grip, she tossed it to the floor where it skittered away beneath the heart monitor. A depraved sense of satisfaction melded a tingling warmth into her veins, as she imagined the pain he'd endure through the night without the comfort of the dulling effects of the medication.
"You're pathetic." She repeated in a hiss as the blood pounded in her ears and surged through her neck and face. "You deserve every broken bone she gave you, and you deserve to suffer through it with your fucking jaw wired shut."
Their noses were bare inches apart when his lids fluttered sharply once more, then suddenly, one dark, brown eye was staring back her. A gasp lodged in her throat, her heart thundering sharply in chest as she froze over top of him, their eyes locked. For one, long, excruciating moment, he didn't even blink.
Then, abruptly, her jerked in the bed, rearing up at her with a guttural growl. A scream launched up her tongue, emitting in a high pitched screech as she stumbled back, clutching her chest. Her heart thundered and tripped over itself as a low noise emitted from beneath his bandages. He couldn't speak, and she couldn't tell if it was a growl of anger or a laugh of amusement.
"Fuck you." She rasped, breathlessly, charging back to the bed. "We've got you now, you motherfucker. You think you're suffering now? Just you fucking wait."
The corners of his eyes crinkled, smile lines forming on either side of the ventilator's mouthpiece, and she knew he'd be laughing if he could open his damn mouth.
"You think this is funny?" She demanded. "It won't be funny when you rot in hell. It won't be funny when they send you to prison and all those fucking beefcakes find out that you rape and kill women and children, people just like their mothers and daughters!"
Another grunted chuckle emitted from his dry, cracking lips, and she could feel the flush of anger bloom across her neck and cheeks.
She knew the limits of her self control, and right now she could see the very edge. Her hands were shaking, clenched into fists, and she knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself if she uncurled her fingers. But with red bleeding into her peripheral and the burn of rage pervading her mind with violent fantasies of ripping away what was left of his life, she decided that she didn't care.
Grabbing the ventilator tube, she squeezed the bendable plastic, crushing the narrow pathway of oxygen to nothing. Her fist trembled, her knuckles blanching white as she held it up in front of his nose.
"You still think it's funny?" She seethed.
His eye narrowed back at her, though the amused twinkle had yet to leave his gaze. Of course, he didn't believe that she would kill him. He was protected inside this secure facility and her own moral duties, and it enraged her even more to know that her tactics were a mere nuisance along his way to another successful acquittal.
"You see this?" Amanda demanded, tapping the badge with on her shirt with her other hand. "I can do anything I want right now. There's no one checking in on us. It's just you and me, and I could do this all night."
His brow furrowed slightly, a flush crawling up his face as she withheld the oxygen. In her peripheral, she could see the heart monitor spiking, and she clenched the tube hard in her perspiring palm as her own pulse danced wildly in her chest. She was so close to seeing the fear she so desperately wanted in his expression; so close to the borderline of losing herself forever.
"She told me what you did to her." She hissed, bending in close to him. "You tortured her for four, fucking days, you monster. Someone needs to hurt you."
She wrenched the tube tighter, shoving her fist into his face as he jerked beneath her, deprived of the life saving effects of the machine. She felt him weakly bat at her arm with his one, uninjured limb, but her fear was lost now beneath an ever rising tide of rage and overwhelming emotion.
She had him exactly where she had wanted - suffering with no means of escape. She could've done anything to him, but as his gaze widened, pupils dilated over blackened irises, the pleasure of torturing him wavered.
He wanted me to kill him. Olivia's voice rang through her head, her anguished tone a bold warning. He knew it would consume me just like it consumed him….
Amanda's eyes stung with tears a she stared down at his helpless figure, weakly twitching as the oxygen bled away from his lungs, tinging his flesh with blue.
She'd begged Olivia to hold on to her humanity in that moment, pleaded with her to give life another chance. She'd told her there was more to her than this….
The heat inside of her veins slowly began to run cold at the thought of giving this man what he wanted. Death would be too easy for him. He would escape this Earth without ever facing what he had done in court while she would rot forever, a prisoner to his worthless corpse.
Breathing out raspily, she slowly unclenched her fingers one by one, eyes pressed shut. She could feel the blood rushing back into her hand and her body tingled with excess adrenaline. Beneath her, she could hear the oxygen spurting back into his lungs, restoring the life to his body.
When she opened her eyes, she shook her head, leaning back slowly. He watched her every move, his chest trembling and expanding with fresh air.
"No…." She whispered, through clenched teeth,
"No….I'm not going to hurt you... or lose my job over you...or get locked up because of you…"
His eyes flickered with something close to smugness, but he wouldn't bait her again. She'd dangled a merciful death in front of his nose, and now she would rip it away.
"You're not worth the effort of killing you." She spat, scornfully. "You think you won? You already made your worst mistake days ago."
At this, she saw the first hint of doubt in gaze, and she smiled.
She leaned back in, slowly, until the ends of her hair were brushing his chest, and she could see every nuance of his blackened eyes.
Narrowing her gaze straight back into his, she said in a low, unwavering tone, "You fucked with Olivia Benson."
xxxxxx
She'd promised Brian she'd rest while he was away, but bending the truth right up to the breaking point had slowly become a fixture in her life for awhile now. She'd stayed tucked in bed for the ten minutes that it had taken Brian to leave the house and travel an acceptable distance away before she'd tossed back the sheets.
The apartment was becoming dim with evening lighting as Olivia darted towards the front door, her heart fluttering in her chest. She slipped her shoes on, and grabbed her wallet which contained her metro card.
The thought of public transit terrified her, but she had no other means of travelling to Mercy Hospital. Brian had taken his car to his precinct, and she would simply have to grit her teeth and bear the vulnerability and the claustrophobic atmosphere of a subway ride.
The hospital, which held so many humiliating memories for her, should have been the last place she wanted to go, but she couldn't remain in Brian's apartment any longer. Her mind hadn't stopped turning since she'd woken from the dream, and her thoughts had only mutated within the past few hours.
She'd convinced herself since escaping the beach house that Lewis hadn't raped her, and she kept telling her that she would know if he had. After the pregnancy nightmare, however, she couldn't seem to grasp reality. She didn't trust her own memories. How many times had she coaxed survivors to remember things they had repressed, only to watch the horror bloom across their faces as they recalled atrocities they would've been much better off without?
As she slipped out the front door, she clung to the thought that this was only for her peace of mind even as she glanced up and down the street for some unseen predator. The people walking down the sidewalk hardly cast her a glance as they rushed home after work or focused on their evening run. She both loathed and envied their fearless afternoons in the sun, their mundane commute to and fro. Meanwhile, she wrestled a devil in her mind, jumping at every nightmare and tragic thought.
At a break between the pedestrians, she jogged out onto the sidewalk. Clutching her wallet tightly in her hand, she kept her gaze alert. Her senses were hyper aware, and every gust of breeze on her face and every distant car horn startled her. Her flesh prickled with goosebumps despite the warm temperature, and although she knew Lewis was locked up, she couldn't stop the urge to glance back behind her.
She broke into a jog once more as she reached the intersection. The crosswalk sign was flashing with the "walk" symbol, and she dashed across the street. As she turned the corner, she could see the stairs leading down to the metro, washing relief across her body.
The crowd grew thicker as she approached, and although she'd lived in the madness of New York City streets her entire life, she felt uncoordinated now. Every person she haltingly ducked past seemed to be staring at her, and she tried not to look into their faces. She swerved around several men and women who were exiting the subway stairs, her heart palpitating, breathing uneven.
She gasped when, suddenly, a shoulder knocked into hers. Swaying into the railing, she glanced back, eyes dancing across the moving hoard, but whoever had touched her, was lost within. Her fingers trembled around the grimy, cold railing as the crowd morphed around her, ignoring her traumatized stance.
The thought of running back to Brian's apartment crossed her mind, wavering at the forefront of her brain for a moment. In fact, all of her fight or flight instincts were screaming at her to do just that, but she knew the relief would be temporary. As soon as she crawled back beneath the covers, she would find herself consumed in much more terrifying way.
With what mental stability she had left, she told herself that the people on the metro had no intention of hurting her. No one was looking at her. No one cared who she was.
Glancing down the stairs, she ordered herself to move. Uncurling her fingers from the railing, she took another step, rigidly, then another and another. When she finally reached the bottom on the stairs, she released a heavy, trembling breath.
The platform lay ahead of her, and she hardly needed to glance at the map to know which train she needed to board. With her shoulders tucked in, she weaved her way closer to the tracks, eager to escape the crowded boarding station. She could hear the whirring of the subway echoing down the tunnel, and she swayed, nervously, biting at her inner cheek.
Her gaze was focused on the blackened mouth of the tunnel when the first strums of a guitar began from behind. Through the din of the crowd, the tune started off slow, and Olivia glanced over her shoulder to see a young girl slouched against one of the pillars.
There were dozens of homeless people or starving artists who pedaled their instruments on the streets and subways of New York City, but Olivia was frozen on her for a moment, her emaciated body and stringy hair. She didn't even try to hide the track marks on her arms as her bony fingers tapped across the strings.
Glancing around the station, Olivia noticed that the soon to be passengers hardly gave the girl a glance. If anything, they purposefully ignored her haunting appearance, and Olivia felt her throat grow tight as she watched the young woman's vacant expression. As a native New Yorker, she'd watched the homeless population grow just as the rest of the people huddled on the platform, and she knew it was easier not to look, but she couldn't look away, not tonight. Not when she felt more kinship with a drug addict than the business men and women boarding the train. They couldn't possibly understand that look inside her eyes, but it was a face Olivia had stared down every day since coming home.
Lost.
Hopeless.
Wondering if you'd ever be the same.
She jolted as a gush of air, the dank smell of the subway tunnels rushed into the station, signaling the train's arrival. The crowd immediately rumbled to life, shuffling towards the doors, but Olivia hesitated, caught somewhere between finding her own abandon and reaching into someone else's.
The strumming of the guitar dwindled away as the crowd moved on with hardly a glance given to her playing. The young woman's gaze flicked upwards, and Olivia flinched as their eyes meet across the platform. A long, excruciating moment passed in which the girl's expression hardly changed. If she was looking for attention, Olivia could hardly discern the pleasure of human contact in her gaze. Slowly, Olivia felt eyes begin to burn at the vacant exchange, deeply unsettled by what she had just witnessed.
A second wave of people suddenly rushed past her, obscuring Olivia's view and shattering their connection. She wavered in her place, although she knew she needed to board in order to make it to Mercy Hospital. She could only catch glimpses of the girl until she disappeared completely into the ever shifting throng. When she was finally able to see the pillar again, the young woman and her guitar were gone.
Olivia hesitated, perturbed by the strange interaction. The girl had might as well have evaporated into the air or never even existed at all, and to her, Olivia must seem the same way.
Finally, she turned back towards the subway, shaking her head against the lonely, hopeless thought. This time, when she strode towards the train, she didn't look back.