Author's Note: Hey everyone, I'm so sorry for this chapter taking so long. I had to take another break from working on this fic. It really wears me out sometimes with all the dark subject matter and emotional turmoil. The holidays are shit for me and I didn't get much done during that time. I can't promise that it won't be a long time until the next chapter after this, but I'll try my best. As always thanks for reading and commenting. I love you all from the bottom of my heart.
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She sat desolate and pale like a marble statue on the bed, one ankle still poised over her knee as her shoe slipped from her white fingers. She was staring at some point on floor where the sun shone without warmth through the window, and Olivia found herself just as frozen.
She'd crossed the room, her heart palpitating with the dread of being so close to her when the sharp words fell from her tongue, the ones that would sever them apart completely. Now, she could scarcely move as the conflicting urge to comfort her swelled in her chest.
Amanda's own breast barely rose and fell as she stared unblinking at the carpet, but Olivia could see the way her throat bobbed, the tears barely held at bay in her cerulean eyes.
"You can go." Amanda's husky tone fractured the silence that had fallen between them, seizing Olivia's chest with sudden emotion.
She leaned back against the wall next to the bedroom door, clenching her arms around herself. Her lips were pursed tight over her teeth, and she couldn't bring herself to comply with Amanda's offering of a quick out.
"I'm not stupid." Amanda said, her tone suddenly sharp. "I know how this goes."
"Do you?" Olivia pushed abruptly away from the wall.
She impulsively crossed the room, dropping to her knees in front of Amanda's prone figure. Grasping her cold hands, Olivia stared rigidly at the ceramic flesh where pink flushes rose around her trembling grip. The vision blurred before her eyes, and she squeezed them shut.
They stayed there for a long moment, locked into a trance of shared understanding and heartache.
We both know better. Olivia thought, swallowing back the harsh ball of emotion from her palate. We knew better last night, and the night before that, and the night before that...
"Stay with me." Amanda whispered suddenly, her tone raw with an ache that reached through space and time to shatter their silent limbo with burning fingers.
Olivia gaze rose quickly towards Amanda's, and she found her face as open and agonized as she had when she'd lain before Olivia's hesitant touch, that night when all they'd had was each other.
"I…" The beginnings of the protest barely fell from Olivia's mouth before she had to clamp her jaw shut again to defy the tears welling in her voice.
"I know this is crazy and impossible and stupid, and I'm sorry." Amanda continued, sniffing harshly. "And I know I left for a reason, a good, fucking reason, but-"
She cut off sharply when Olivia slumped down, pressing her forehead to Amanda's trembling hands clutched in her own.
God, I can't do it. I can't do this. She prayed as the heartache and subsequent weakness welled so quickly inside of her that she could hardly stop it.
"I know, I know…" Amanda murmured, quietly, as though she'd read the desperate thoughts passing through her mind.
She bent down to press her mouth against Olivia's crown, and Olivia surged in closer to her, seizing her around the waist as the pain crushed her chest once more. Every logical word she'd planned to say - we can only be friends until we're both better, we have to save ourselves, we have to do the right thing for each other - escaped from her mind. Into the emptying spaces rushed memories, moments of comfort, of pleasure, love and belonging.
"Kiss me." Amanda murmured, her voice husky, breath warm against her scalp, spreading tingles down her spine.
Her exhale trembled, and she clenched her fingers tight around the fabric of Amanda's shirt.
"I...I can't…"
Amanda sat back slowly, and Olivia felt her fingers at her chin, drawing her tear streaked face upward. Their eyes met again, red-rimmed gazes that begged for each other's touch.
"One last time." Amanda whispered, her fingers gently stroking stray hair away from Olivia's cheek. "Then I'll let you go."
Olivia turned her face quickly away, pressing her eyes shut against another hot rush of tears. For a long moment, she couldn't force herself to open them again.
"Please…" She managed to rasp out at last. "Please, don't make this harder."
Her swollen lids parted, and she stared through the blurriness at the half open closet across the room. Amanda's clothes were hung haphazardly with no discernable arrangement or color coordination, but Olivia could see the shirt she'd worn that night in the hospital, the first time that Amanda had made her feel safe. She wanted to close her eyes and recall the texture and smell of the fabric, the strength of the embrace beneath - but she couldn't.
Blinking away the lingering tears slowly, she murmured, "We both have to get better."
She couldn't take her eyes off the shirt.
"You make me better." Amanda's hand lingered at her jaw through the quiet coaxing.
Olivia clenched her teeth, and reached up to grasp Amanda's wrist. She pulled her hand down into her lap again, and finally tore her eyes away from the closet, pinning them to their intertwined hands.
"The gambling, Amanda." She whispered. "It has to stop. The drinking, the reckless behavior. What we did…. It was reckless."
Amanda was silent for a moment, unmoving, and Olivia lifted her head when Amanda's response never came. She found Amanda staring down at their joined hands, emotion kindling inside the blue depths of that gaze.
"Amanda?" Sweetie?"
"I lost myself." She said, suddenly, her watery eyes flashing towards Olivia's. "In that hospital, on the verge of taking a man's life. I didn't know who I was anymore."
"I know...I know."
"No." Amanda cut her off, pulling her hands sharply away from Olivia's. "I didn't know who I was again until last night. Until I was with you again. I know I'm fucked up, but don't ever say that what we did, what we had, was a mistake!"
She stood suddenly, jostling Olivia backwards. She marched around the bed, and tore the curtain back from the window. Olivia watched her fingers trembling in the golden sunlight as she pushed the window open, and snatched the cigarettes from the nightstand. She watched her light it, breathe in the nicotine, unable to say a word. She stayed on the floor, hardly able to even cry as Amanda slowly burned the cigarette down to ash and then to nothing. The smell of smoke drifted through the window, and the sun burned into amber dusk while the tears dried on their cheeks.
At last, Amanda turned from the window, and began to strip down to her underwear with angry movements. She ignored Olivia's presence as she climbed into the bed and yanked the covers over her head, hiding from the world, from the truth, from herself.
It was another long minute before her shoulders began to quiver beneath the comforter, and Olivia's own heart was too broken to ignore her distress. Scrambling up from the floor, she kicked off her shoes, and crawled into the bed next to her. Amanda whimpered, arching away from her at first as Olivia wrapped her arm around Amanda's waist, and pulled her back flush against her chest.
"Just let me hold you. Let me hold you." Olivia whispered over and over again until Amanda sank into the bed, trembling and exhausted.
Olivia's own body lapsed against her, and their fingers wound together again against Amanda's quivering belly.
It wasn't the most intimate they'd ever been, but for now, it was all she could hope for, all that she could allow herself. She savored the warmth of Amanda's flesh against hers, the slow rhythm of her breathing that extended into sleepfulness, the smell of her hair and the softness of it against her face.
But it wasn't until she was certain that Amanda fallen to sleep and dreams that she allowed herself to whisper into the quiet and the blonde tendrils against her lips, "It wasn't a mistake…"
xxxxxx
She awoke suddenly in the pitch blackness of Amanda's bedroom to the insistent jangling of her cell phone. The device vibrated against her hip inside the pocket of her jeans, and she rolled over with a moan as she struggled to pull it out. She immediately felt a wave of cold as she disconnected her body from Amanda's, and she realized in the back of her mind they'd never closed the window.
Holding the phone in front of her face, she squinted at the bright LED. The sight of Brian's name on the screen shoved a fist of dread into her throat, destroying what fogginess remained in her head, and she sat up quickly from the bed. Her fingers held a tremble as she groped for her shoes on the floor before she swayed to her feet. Picking her way slowly across the dark bedroom, she yanked the window shut. She cast one last glance as Amanda's sleeping figure, her heart pounding in her ears above the ringing of her cell, before she turned towards the door.
As she wandered out into the hall, she clutched the phone closer again, hesitating to answer the call.
She'd texted Fin after Amanda had fallen asleep, explaining that Amanda was distressed and didn't want to be alone. He hadn't pried, although he'd offered to stay with her instead so that Olivia could go home and sleep. Although the idea of escaping the situation had been somewhat alluring, she knew that going home to Brian only presented another problem. As it appeared now, however, she wouldn't be able to put off either confrontation.
"Fuck." She whispered into the quiet apartment.
She pressed her eyes shut hard as she tapped the answer button and lifted the phone to her ear.
"Hello."
Silence crackled for a second across the line as though Brian was shocked that she had answered.
"Hey." He said at last. "I, uh...heard you were back in town."
"It's two am, Brian." Olivia whispered, leaned back against the wall, and clasping one hand over her face.
She prayed desperately that he'd agree that this was a ridiculous hour to have any type of discussion, but she knew how her absence from Brian's apartment despite her return to New York would appear.
"Yeah, and Cragen called me hours ago." Brian replied, defensiveness swelling in the undercurrent of his voice.
"Cragen?"
"Yeah, I asked him to let me know if you got back safe… I had a feeling you wouldn't."
"Brian." Olivia began, before she realized that she had no place to defend herself.
"You're not here…" Brian continued, ignoring her soft plea. "So where are you at, Liv?"
She tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling as her heart beat anxiously in the quiet. He deserved the truth, and she knew far too well his position after the morning she'd had with Amanda, but the fear inside her held her mouth shut.
"With her?" He prodded at last to which she still could not reply.
Lifting a hand, she clasped her fingers over her mouth lest he hear her halting, tearful breaths.
"I told you we can't keep doing this." He murmured, his voice holding only a fraction of the frustration that she knew he wanted to unleash.
Her choked silence spoke for her for several long moments, longer than she expected his patience to prevail while she stared into the dark, swallowing back waves of emotion.
Finally, she whispered in a brittle in a tone, "I'll be there in twenty."
He didn't have time to reply before she abruptly ended the call.
xxxxxx
It'd been a scarce few days since she'd been in NY, but in her mind it felt like weeks. It was unsettling to exist inside this lifelong environment with a sense of unbelonging. As she was whisked towards Brian's apartment in the back of the cab she watched the city beyond, uneasy and uncomfortable.
That's the guilt talking, honey. She told herself with a grimace, but whether she focused on Brian or simply on the familiar skyline beyond she could not find the rhythm of her life.
I didn't know who I was until I was with you again! Amanda's voice rang through her mind, and she closed her eyes quickly over a hot sheen of tears.
"Me too…" She silently mouthed the words beneath the low hum of the cabbie's radio, and sank back into the worn leather seat.
She didn't open her eyes again until she felt the car sway to a stop along the curb. She lifted her weary gaze to the aging building with the strange feeling that it may for the last time.
"Thanks." She muttered to the cabbie as she paid.
Shoving the door open, she stepped out onto the sidewalk and attempted to gather her courage. She squared her shoulders, and blew out a deep exhale before she pressed forward. She kept her head down, focusing on each step on her path towards Brian's apartment, but by the time she was riding up the elevator her heart was racing.
When she stepped out into the dark hallway, nausea seized her stomach. She heard the doors rattle closed behind her, and she stood listening to low din of a TV still playing down the hall, and the creak of footsteps above her.
The city that never sleeps. Apparently, neither did her guilt.
She closed her eyes, drew a calming breath, gathered what strength she could. Once she started walking, once she entered the space they shared -and soon would never share again - she could not stop. There'd be no time to catch her breath.
I know how this goes. Do you? Yes, I know exactly how it goes.
Squaring her shoulders, she dug her keys out of her pocket, and gripped them in her palm as she strode down the hall. The little, metal teeth bit into the softness of her flesh, but it was far from the worst pain she'd ever experienced with her own set of apartment keys.
Reaching Brian's door, she grabbed the door handle and pushed the key inside the lock. With another twist and push, she was inside. Her throat closed tight as memories of the last time she stood here filled her head.
The alcohol. Brian voice, loud and harsh, reminding her she didn't want to be her mother. His hand catching her, bearing her up against him, inside her. The bed swallowing her, the pillow hot against her mouth. It all seemed like a fever dream, far removed from the gritty reality of New Jersey.
Pressing the door shut behind her, she hesitated there, eyes shut, palm sweaty around the knob.
Her eyes flicked open when she heard his footsteps, distinct and familiar. Her gaze found him in the dim illumination of the kitchen's archway. The sparse light from the bulb above the sink outlined his figure, and though she couldn't see his eyes in the dark, the tightness of his shoulders spoke loud enough.
They stood there for a minute, silent as though they both waited for the other to speak first.
Finally, he pushed away from the kitchen threshold, and she watched him pass her. He crossed to the living room, and twisted the switch on the lamp by the recliner. The sound of it screeched in her ears like nails on a chalkboard before the harsh light flooded the room.
He turned slowly, and she caught sight of the beer bottle in his hand. By his expression, she guessed it was not his first. Dread pulled at her stomach once more, forcing her to remain planted by the door.
He sank heavily into the chair, resting the bottle on his knee. He turned it around slowly, sloshing the liquid inside.
"You slept with her." His husky tone shattered the silence - more of statement than a question; an indisputable fact rather than a fleeting assumption.
"Brian -" Olivia began, her voice trembling alive from the confines of her aching throat.
"Just say yes, goddamnit." He snapped, his eyes blazing as he pinned her with an accusatory glare.
She swallowed hard, tears burning her eyes. With guilt reaming through her chest, she didn't think she had any other choice but to follow his command.
Get your shit together. Tell him the truth. She ordered herself. Don't make him do all the work here. This is all your fault.
She took a halting step forward, and he watched her every movement with a distrusting gaze. As she approached, she could see the glaze in his eyes, the bloodshot lines that branched across the whites. It wasn't the first drink he'd had tonight, and if she hadn't been so guilt-ridden she might have tried to postpone this conversation until he was sober.
Drawing a wobbly breath, she sank down in front of him, meeting his narrowed eyes. It was no less painful than kneeling before Amanda, breaking her heart with each and every word. She'd known it wouldn't be the last fragile one she'd shatter, but she'd prayed it wouldn't be so soon.
"I won't lie to you." She whispered at last, resisting the urge to look away. "I should've been more truthful to begin with."
He released a low scoff, and glanced away as he took another quick drink. It stung that he so flippantly disregard her attempts to apologize, but she clenched her teeth and reminded herself that she didn't deserve an olive branch.
"I went to New Jersey because she was in trouble. But I also went because… because I wanted to."
A frown twisted her brow at the truth spoken aloud, something she hadn't expected to ever say to the man in front of her, but Brian didn't reply. He continued to stare off at some distant point in the room, reticent and guarded.
"That night at the hotel…" She continued, huskily, causing him to flinch at the reminder. "I should've told you…."
"Told me what?" He demanded, his voice cutting her with all it's sharp edges and disdain.
"That I don't know what this is." She murmured, her chin dipping towards the floor as a sudden rush of tears seized her. "I don't know why I feel the way I do, but I know that when I look at you… I -"
She cut off, clasping her hand over her mouth as the emotion swelled like a high, inescapable tide in her throat.
"You what?" Brian prodded, but she couldn't bring herself to speak around the thick fist of emotion planted at the back of her tongue.
A long beat of silence passed as his eyes bored into her and she tried desperately to shore up the emotion spilling from her mouth with quaking fingers.
She heard Brian's beer bottle clank against the side table, the sound of it snapping the tension between them like a twig. Then his hands were on her, grabbing her trembling and harsh around her shoulders.
"You what?" He demanded, shaking with tears, with fury, with every bit of judgement that she deserved.
She lapsed in his grasp, succumbing to the sobs that beat relentlessly against the bindings of her lips. His gaze was burning her, his fingers bruising, yet she couldn't pull away, couldn't bring herself to even attempt an escape from this punishing reality.
"Say it, Liv." Brian ordered. "If it's the truth, say it."
"I…" She choked out, her tearful gaze tilting towards his glassy, incensed one.
"Say it!"
Her shook her again, rattling the words from her tongue in a distressed outburst that matched his desperate tone.
"I don't love you!"
The exclamation seemed to physically assault him, and he jerked back, eyes wide, lips parted as though he would release some shocked expletive, but none ever came. His hands were frozen around her arms as the seconds ticked on, until finally, he released her as though she had burned his flesh. He sat back, running a quaking hand over his face as a quick tear slipped down his cheek.
Immediate regret and pain obliterated Olivia's chest, and she sank down against his knee, her forehead falling to rest with discomfort against the sharpness of his bone.
"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I'm sorry…"
Silence caved in on them, suffocating the room for long minutes that seemed to pass endlessly. An indelible pain planted itself in Olivia's chest without reprieve until finally, Brian abruptly rose, jostling her off his knee. She tumbled back on the floor as he stepped past her, hardly glancing at her puffy, flushed appearance of contrition.
She heard his heavy footfalls retreat towards the door, then the shuffling of fabric as he pulled on his coat and shoes.
"Wh-where are you going?" She asked, her voice raspy and broken as she twisted around.
"I don't think I need to tell you that." He answered derisively as he zipped up his jacket in a sharp, angry motion.
"You're not sober, Brian." She whispered, pushing herself up from the floor with a wince. "You shouldn't drive."
"And you think you're the person to tell me what I should and should not do?" He snapped, his gaze flashing towards her. "You know, you haven't even admitted that you fucked her yet."
"Bri-"
"Just say it once." Brian cut her off, stabbing his finger in the air.
She stared at him, clenching one arm around her waist as her stomach turned, and scrubbing her hand over her mouth again with the other. Her lips were trembling and she didn't want to cry in front of him again.
"You said you wouldn't lie." Brain reminded her, his jaw working.
He had one fist on the doorknob, and his keys were in his other hand, but she knew he wouldn't leave until he wrenched this final admission from her mouth.
"So I'm asking you…." He whispered. "Did you sleep with her?"
Her throat throbbed with a knot of dread, and the tears in her eyes pulsed in tandem. She wished with every fiber of her being that she could impart to him every horrible experience, every lonely night, every thought that had crossed her mind since Lewis so that he would in some way understand, but she could not. And she knew that even if she had his most deepest understanding that it would not be enough to cover this multitude of sins. There'd be no excuse good enough for what she had done, and she was going to have to live with this night and all the rest for the whole of eternity.
The husky yes that finally fell from her mouth felt like neither a relief nor a damnation. The truth could not spare her. It could not set her free.
He stared at her first a long moment, his lips pursed hard against his teeth before his gaze settled upon the door.
"I don't know what he did to you." He whispered at last. "But you need help. Before you hurt anyone else."
Yanking the door open, he stormed out into the hall. The following, resounding slam echoed throughout the apartment, jarring her. Stood in the center of the room, tears streaking down her cheeks as she listened to his footsteps fade down the stairs, then the distant sound of the front entrance door falling heavily shut.
He was gone.
She barely made it to the couch before her legs collapsed from beneath her, and she sank down on her side. Covering her face with her hands, she sobbed into the silence, the tear coming in waves of agony and then anger. The two fought back and forth until her throat was raw and she was exhausted with the emotional toll. Then she became still, her body and heavy and spent, and she drifted into the oblivion of sleep.
When she awoke again, the sun had risen, shining with searing brightness through the windows. Her mouth was dry, her tongue thick against the roof of her mouth, and her eyes ached as she opened them slowly.
Sleep hadn't even come close to erasing the memories of the early morning heartbreak, and she stared off at the wall as the weight of it settled down upon her chest. She already knew what she had to do, but she allowed herself to lie there for several more precious minutes before she rolled onto her back and pulled out her cellphone.
Flipping through her contacts, she found Dr. Lindstrom's direct line. She blew out a low, wavering breath before she hit the dial button and waited for it to connect.
He answered almost immediately, and she knew he'd probably been concerned after she'd missed their last appointment in exchange for travelling to Jersey. She hadn't given him much explanation, but that was all about to change - if she could simply find the strength.
"Olivia, how are you?" He asked.
She hated that question, now more than ever, but this time she had to be truthful.
Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes and admitted. "Not good… I need to come in."
"Okay, take a few deep breaths." He reminded her gently. "What time can you come in?"
"Now." Her hands were trembling and her heart was pounding as she whispered, "I need to come in now. I have to tell you everything."