AN: We have reached the end. I don't really know what to say because this is such a bittersweet moment, and frankly, I've used up all my words writing this chapter. I just want to say thank you to all my wonderful reviewers. It might not have started out strong in terms of the numbers game, but the quality and sincerity in the reviews you guys have given me is just so heart-warming. Like, I am tempted to print your reviews out, frame them, and put them up on my wall. But I'm not sure I'd want my mom to know what I've been furiously typing into my computer these last couple of months.
Anyway, I just want to say I'm so sorry for shattering so many hearts and causing so many tears. But let's try to put the pieces back together, ok? Come join me on this last chapter and maybe we can all mend our broken hearts.
Read, enjoy, weep, enjoy, and review.
Oh, and special shout-out to Warren Leight. ;)
March 4, 2015
An expanse of immaculate white veiled the city. Flurries of snowflakes drifted through the gentle, morning breeze. The calendar pointed to springtime, but the ice on the asphalt and the ash in the heavens was like winter's postscript. The horses trotted along the pathways of Central Park, leaving horseshoe prints of fleeting luck. The flowers that begged to bloom shied away, hiding until the warm touch of the sun coaxed them out of sleep. The city was biding its time. It drew in a sharp, icy breath that pierced its lungs; and it held onto that breath until it was safe to surface.
Arraignment court still hummed in spite of the blizzard outside. Criminal defendants still needed to show face in court and were still asked to plead guilty or not guilty. The justice system didn't have snow days. Nick stepped into the bustling room and leaned against the wall. Seats were occupied and people were in a constant rush coming in and out of the suffocating courtroom. The chief judge was in the middle of setting bail for a man accused of indecent exposure at a schoolyard.
"He is a respected business owner, who cares for his aging mother. Mr. Buchanan has strong ties to the community, Your Honor." His public defender argued. The judge idly studied the man who hadn't even bothered to shower or look presentable for court. Nothing about his appearance screamed 'respected business owner', and whatever ties he had to the community, he would venture, were more parasitic than amicable. The judge set bail to $15,000 and remanded Buchanan to Rikers pending trial.
Nick's attention drifted over to one of the aisles where he saw both Detectives Rollins and Carisi sitting with Lena Rodriguez and her roommate, Hannah. They were awaiting Tom Fischer's arraignment. They all knew how it was going to play out after Tom confessed in the interrogation room and he discussed his options with his lawyer. Nonetheless, Nick could sense that Lena was worried Tom would change his mind at the last second. She was also nervous to see him for the first time since the day of her attack; but she insisted on being there. Part of her was curious – curious to see if her former best friend had any remorse for his actions. And she was curious to see if there was any shred left of the Tom she once knew.
Tom was curious about her too. He wondered what Lena's reaction would be to seeing him that day in court. As Nick processed him out of SVU's holding that morning, Tom inquired how Lena was feeling about going to court that day. "Does she hate me, detective? Do you think she'll yell at me? Or do you think she'll crumple up in fear? Think about ending her life again?" Nick tried his best to ignore the questions because he knew what that son of a bitch was trying to do. But he froze in the middle of signing the documents when Tom asked one last question. "Do you think she finally realizes that she loves me too?"
Disregarding all reason, Tom still held onto hope. Now that he felt the heavens, she must have felt it too, he reasoned. Maybe she'd come around and realize he did what he had to in order to show her what it felt like to have a man love her unconditionally. Nick resisted the urge to set him in his place and tell him that his actions weren't a sign of love. They were signs of his complete and utter disrespect of Lena. And that was unforgivable. Not even love or a false idea of this abstract concept could salvage that broken friendship.
Amanda wore her hair down, au naturale, tucked into that knit scarf from that night almost a year ago. The memories were vivid as they appeared in his mind. They were walking out of Moran's and she stood at the curb while he tried and failed to hail a cab. He turned around to find her tucking her chin into her scarf like some of turtle hiding in its shell. All those office room glances of curiosity started to make sense and he saw Amanda in a completely new light. They ended up taking the subway to her place, where she poured him a drink, and she felt the stubble on his jaw. And as they say when people refuse to kiss and tell, the rest is history.
It was what it was – history. His story of the past to look back on and learn from, yet somehow always doomed to repeat it. His story was one of a child who lived in an abusive home for fifteen years. His story was about appointing himself the man of the house, taking responsibilities that should not have been that of a child's, and vowing to protect his mother and sister from the evils of the world. His story was working his way through the Academy, earning his stripes, and collecting his badges. His story was of love and heartbreak, love and heartbreak, love and heartbreak.
Nick slipped his leather gloves off his hands and placed them in his coat pockets. He studied his right knuckles and quietly observed that the cuts had healed and left no scars. It was like it never happened. But even if the blood had stopped dripping and the skin had closed over the wounds, the heavy heart hanging in his chest reminded him that it was all too real. There was a hole in the wall of her apartment. Frannie had whimpered at the sound of bone, cartilage, and muscle driving through a sheet of plaster. Amanda had witnessed it, mouth open and eyes wide in horror. Her fingers trembled and her lip quivered, but she stood frozen; just like his Ma for the first fifteen years of Nick's life.
For years he tried to convince himself he was nothing like the man he was named after, nothing like the man who had been halfway responsible for existence. Nick never laid a hand on a woman or a child. But on that morning in her apartment, he might as well have, because he couldn't forget that look on Amanda. He was a disgrace. A poor excuse of a man. She deserved someone better. She deserved someone who didn't push her to that point. The person Amanda deserved was someone patient and kind, trusting and calm. The last year had been laden with, what he thought was, personal growth; but the disappointing truth was he repeated mistakes and made new ones to add to his narrative.
The self-pity was on an all-time high over the last several days, but he allowed himself to wallow. It was the only way he knew how to cope without hitting something. He had considered going to the boxing gym and letting it all out, but it only reminded him of their fight. He couldn't throw a punch, not when she was plaguing his mind. Because if he was thinking about Amanda while punching the bag, could that mean he wanted to hit her? Of course not, he tried to reason himself. If this is the kind of turmoil he was feeling just doubting his capacity to do something so reprehensible, then he couldn't even begin to imagine what was going through his Papi's head.
Nick missed her. Every second of every day, the thoughts of her kept coming at him like a runaway train that never ended. Carriage after carriage of memories of her blue eyes, her porcelain skin, her golden hair that shined like rays of sunlight amidst the shadows. He opened one door of a passenger car and jumped through the next and he remembered more than just her face and body. He remembered her laugh – the soft chuckles, the deep rumbles of raspy giggles that stemmed from her belly, the wicked snicker and the naughty gleam in her eyes. He closed the door in one of the cabins and watched the view through the window, watched the scenes of their story play out like a silent film. Every second of every day, he missed her.
But she said they were done. They were over. He had heard those words before and he had tried to fight it, tried to pretend they were just words spoken in the heat of the moment. He fought and tried to convince himself those words didn't stand a chance against vows of for better or for worse. But his fight was like throwing kindling to the fire, sending his marriage to ruin. Nick knew, with Amanda, there were no formal ties and there was no sacred bond that was broken. Yet, the stakes were just as high – in fact, higher. Because this time, he let himself fall completely into that intensity. He gave all of himself in spite of the fact that she held herself back. In spite of it all, he waited and believed that one day she would open herself up to him and love him. He believed in her. He believed in them.
Nick wasn't happy about the break-up, but it was something he had to learn to accept because he needed to respect Amanda's wishes. But it still unsettled him how they were driven to that point. He pushed her to tell him without considering the fact that she had to relive the experience by telling her story. Even if it was over and all hope was seemingly lost, Nick still felt compelled to apologize. He had never been the kind of person to let things go, and there was no way he could see himself moving forward from this… moving on from this… if he still felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and sorrow over how it all ended.
Amanda could still hate him and never want to speak to him. It would break him further, but what mattered was that she knew he was deeply sorry.
The bailiff called out, "The People versus Thomas Fischer."
"What's the charge?" The judge asked.
The Assistant District Attorney took a step forward and announced to court. "Rape in the first degree, Your Honor."
"How do you plead?" The judge asked Tom who stood beside his fresh-faced, butterfingered public defender.
Nick watched from the back of the room and observed Lena's body language. When the judge asked his question, Lena's back tensed. Hannah reached over and squeezed her friend's hand for reassurance, and the tension quickly dissipated.
Tom's lawyer looked to his client and nodded with a serious expression on his face, He turned to face the judge. "Your Honor, my client pleads guilty."
Lena sighed in relief as Hannah squeezed her hand once more.
"Thomas Fischer will be remanded to Rikers pending sentencing." The judge hit the gavel. "Next case?"
The two girls hugged just as Tom turned around to look at Lena for the first time. Instead, he met with Hannah's blue eyes, which stared back at him icily. He had an apologetic look on his face, and he so desperately wanted to talk to Lena and ask her those questions he wondered aloud in the holding cell. He wanted to ask her if she felt heaven, too. But before Hannah would release her embrace, Tom was already ushered out of the room and out of their lives.
The person standing beside him heaved a sigh that suspiciously sounded like relief. Nick cast a sideways glance at the woman and his brows knitted in a puzzled expression. "Brooke McElroy?"
Bright blue eyes flashed to meet his and they sparkled with delight. "Nicky Amaro?" She looked him up and down, trying to process everything she was seeing. "Oh my god, it's really you…" She rested her hand on his arm. "When Hannah said you were working Lena's case, I couldn't believe it… I didn't think you'd remember me." She smiled coyly.
"What?" Nick asked in disbelief. "I didn't think you'd remember me." He guided her out of the courtroom where they could continue their conversation without disturbing the other onlookers. Once they were out in the courthouse hallway, Nick and Brooke continued to reminisce about middle school. They cringed at memories of Father Bernabe's lectures and Sister Fatima's ruler of discipline. They laughed at happier memories of the lasting friendships they formed and the simple joys that could induce belly-aching laughter.
"Do you remember that time in third grade when we played cops and robbers during recess?"
Nick tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brow.
"You were always playing cop – even then," Brooke teased lightly. "The robbers had kidnapped me and hid me behind the handball court. You were the one who rescued me… You found me hiding behind the wall."
The memories started flooding back of an eight year-old kid with a finger pistol, running around the schoolyard and dodging invisible bullets. The mission was to capture the crooks, who took the princess hostage, and rescue the princess from her hiding place before the recess bell tolled. "Nicky! Go find her!" His friend yelled as he tagged one of the robbers. Running in a zigzag pattern, crawling through plastic tubes – there was no sign of the princess. He darted towards the handball court at the far end of the playground. There was a tree nearby. Sister Fatima said they weren't allowed to climb trees, but this was the only way he could get a bird's eye view of the schoolyard. Just as he approached the trunks and reached for the closest branch, he caught sight of Sister Fatima giving him that 'don't-even-think-about-it' look as she tapped her ruler against her open palm. He swallowed hard. Ducking and rounding the corner behind the concrete wall, he leaned against it and felt his heart pound against his chest. From his peripheral, he could see someone standing beside him. His eyes widened as the rush of excitement coursed through his veins. He took her hand in his and pulled her out from behind the wall. He pumped his fist in the air and yelled, "I found her! I found her! I saved the princess!"
Nick chuckled softly. "Yeah, I think I remember."
"Still saving damsels in distress even to this day," she began, raising an eyebrow at him. "Why am I not surprised?"
His lips twisted into a tight-lipped smile. It hadn't been the first time someone had thought of his job at SVU as saving damsels in distress. People who didn't really understand the nature of special victims or understand the kind of strength it required cooperating with the police and seeking justice after they've been victimized – these people simply thought of it as cops playing heroes. And maybe in a simplistic, childlike view of the world, it might've been easier to believe that. But it wasn't like that in real life. It wasn't that simple under all the complex layers that made life so… messy.
"So, uh, you've met Hannah… she's um… the reason..."
"Why you left St. Jude's?" He finished for her. "Yeah, I figured. She's a good girl, and Lena's lucky to have her support during this time." Nick smiled at Brooke. "You raised her well."
"Thank you." She returned the smiled. "So, what about you? Any kids?"
"Yeah, actually… got a son and daughter."
"Oh," she beamed, before she looked down to see there was no ring on his finger.
Nick followed her eyes and chuckled faintly. "Divorced."
"Hmmm? Me too. Twice actually," she placed her palm over her forehead and smiled bashfully.
Nick felt a slap on his back as Carisi interrupted their conversation. "Ah, so you made it! I thought Serge was gonna keep you in her office all morning." Carisi looked from Nick to the blonde lady, expecting an introduction.
"Detective Carisi, this is Brooke McElroy, Hannah's mom," he started. "Brooke, Carisi." They shook hands but Carisi did not let his gaze deviate from the gorgeous blonde woman.
Carisi's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "You're Hannah's mom? Wow! You look like her sister."
Brooke giggled. "Thanks, I like you already." She then stood awkwardly as Carisi wasn't so subtle in checking her out. Brooke looked over to Nick, maybe hoping for him to rescue her from his fellow detective's ogling eyes. "Anyway, it was nice seeing you…. We should catch up again sometime." She pulled out a card from her purse and handed it to Nick. "I run a catering business, but my personal cell's on there. Call me sometime." She tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear as she gave him that mega-watt smile that had him thinking he was in love back when he was only twelve years old. Looking back at it now, he knew it wasn't love – not even close – but he was naïve and he had a crush and at the time it had felt like the real thing.
"Bye, Nicky."
"Bye…"
Once Brooke was far enough down the hallway, Carisi cocked his head to the side and looked at him awestruck. "Nicky?"
Furrowing his brows, he turned to the other detective. "I went to school with her, practically grew up together."
"And she asked you out… Man, you're one lucky dog." Carisi boxed his shoulder lightly. "She is the definition of MILF."
Nick shot him a harsh look.
"Mother I'd like to f—"
"I know what it means," Nick scowled at him. "Just… don't."
"Why? She's hot and she was totally into you!"
Sometimes Nick wondered how Sonny Carisi ended up in SVU. If this was some practical joke from the higher-ups at 1PP, then it was the perfect time to come out with the cameras now and tell him he was being Punk'd. To be fair, no matter how much he bugged most of the squad, the kid sometimes had good theories, and he lent a perspective that was sorely missing from their unit. Sometimes Carisi wasn't so irritating. This was not one of those times.
"So you're not gonna call her?" He asked, before shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe you could set us up instead."
Nick glared at him. "Do I look like a dating service?" I suck at dating, he thought bitterly to himself.
As if the universe decided to remind him how poorly he'd done in the dating and relationships department, Amanda joined their conversation. She looked at Carisi and wondered why he was giving Nick his best attempt at puppy dog eyes. She glanced down at Nick's hands and saw the business card, which he quickly tucked into his pocket.
"Counselor!" Carisi raised his chin and waved the man who had just stepped out of the elevator.
Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba strode towards them. "Well, if it isn't my favorite unit of detectives." It was hard to tell whether he was being sarcastic or sincere; Nick ventured a guess and supposed it was a little bit of column A, a little bit of column B. Barba extended his hand out and Nick shook it. It wasn't a formal handshake; there was something about it that spoke volumes of the friendship they formed since Nicolas Amaro's trial. Amanda stared at their hands and swallowed hard. She couldn't even look up to meet Barba's eyes. "What brings you to court in this snowpocalypse?"
"Tom Fischer took a guilty plea." Carisi updated Barba.
"Good, good," he nodded approvingly. Then, he turned to Nick, "You kids have lunch yet? I was just heading out and Amaro and I know a place close by; they serve the best ropa vieja anywhere north of Miami."
"Dunno what that is but I'm down for lunch." Carisi patted his belly. Barba narrowed his eyes at him before he turned to the other two detectives, whose company he much preferred over Carisi and his Fordham law wisdom.
Amanda shook her head and excused herself. "I've got to go back to the precinct. Y'all enjoy lunch."
Carisi pouted and watched as Amanda bolted out of the courthouse. "That's weird… while we were waiting for Tom's arraignment, she was tellin' me she was starving."
"She ok?" Barba's brows knitted in confusion. Carisi shrugged his shoulders, and Barba turned to Nick, who was strangely haunted by the heavy courthouse doors. Barba noticed that Nick was being unusually quiet just like Rollins. Not that his and Carisi's presence really afforded for anyone else to dominate the conversation, but something was up with those two.
Nick held his hands up as he sidestepped Barba. "Sorry… I need to go." He sprinted down the hallway and pushed the doors open, shock shooting through his system at the sudden burst of biting air.
"Amanda!" Nick cried out, sprinting down the court steps. "Wait!"
She stopped three steps from reaching the sidewalk and turned to watch him run down the snow-covered stairs. It was slippery, and he wasn't exactly wearing footwear with the best traction. Her eyes were darting around, either trying to make sure no one they knew could see them or just simply looking for an escape. Once he got to her step, she looked at him blankly.
Nick was catching his breath as he tried to study the distant expression on her face. Amanda didn't even appear angry with him; she just looked done, which was worse than he expected. He sighed deeply and parted his lips to speak what he had rehearsed in his head, but suddenly the words got caught in his throat and he felt that if he didn't contain it soon enough, he'd end up screwing things further. He couldn't lose his cool and pass the buck just because she was standing there with that blank look and her walls up. Sure, it was frustrating. But the reason why he ran after her was to apologize, and he wasn't going to let his temper get the best of him again.
Her head turned towards the direction of the precinct, impatiently waiting for him to come out with whatever it is he needed to say. If he wanted to yell at her more, she was giving him the opportunity. Nick just stood there and scrutinized the creases on her brow and the frown on her mouth like some book he could just read. But she was a locked book, and Nick was trying to pry it open anyway. She lowered her head and watch the snowflakes come to rest on her boots. Then they just melted away and disappeared into nothing. "I need to go."
"I'm sorry."
Nick said it with burning urgency. He blinked a couple of times, having it occur to him how desperate it sounded. She looked up to meet his eyes and for a split second he thought he saw pain and confusion. Then, just as she realized he was looking right back at her, she retreated behind those walls again. Amanda averted her gaze. Nick really didn't want to screw this up, but his conscience was yelling at him, telling him to get it over with and tell her how fucking sorry he was. Screw caution, he thought to himself. If he sounded desperate then so be it. It was hard to love her anyway without the despair.
"I'm so sorry, Amanda…" He released those words caught in his throat and, finally, he felt like he was breaking through the surface. "There's no excuse for what I did. I lost my temper and I took it out on your wall, and I'll fix it… I'll give you the money –"
She narrowed her eyes and took a step back. "This is not about my wall."
Nick ran his hands through his hair and blew out a heavy breath. "You're right… It's not just about the wall," he tilted his head so she would just, please, look him in the eye. "I scared you, and I know you're gonna try to deny it, Amanda, but I saw that look. And, god, I don't even know how I'm gonna make up for that… I just…" His voice shattered into a million little pieces as the tears coated his eyes. "I try so hard not to be like him, not to snap at the people I care about… And god, Manda, I just I tried but then I lost it and I saw that look in your eyes – that same exact look as my Ma…"
What was he saying? Where was that carefully rehearsed apology?
Amanda swallowed hard as she listened to Nick talk about how he'd acted just like his father. She didn't even think of it like that. It didn't even cross her mind that he would see her reaction to the punch and think of his own messed up childhood. Of course she was shocked that he had boxed a hole through her wall, but she wasn't terrified the same way as Nick's mother. Yeah, she once egged him on about possibly having temptations to hit a woman. But she was drunk and messed up, and it was something she still deeply regretted. Amanda knew he would never do that. He had a temper, but he never gave her any indication that he would be violent towards her. It was just complete surprise; there was no fear. Nick needed to know that before he beat himself up over something that never happened.
Nick shuddered and tried to rearrange all the jumbled thoughts scrambling through his brain. Looking at her again, he found that her eyes had softened slightly. Those blue eyes weren't blank or cold as ice; they were troubled… for him.
"I just need you to know that I would never hit you," he continued, grateful that at the very least, Amanda was still listening. "I'm sorry if I gave you reason to doubt that."
"You didn't," she shrugged her shoulders then shook her head. "I know it's not in you. I was shocked, Nick; but I wasn't scared of you." She sighed. Amanda wasn't scared of his fist or the force and momentum behind it; it was something else about him that completely terrified her. But she tried her best to run away from those fears long enough to keep herself from addressing them head on. It was the fear of the unknown feelings and the fear of the unknown future – that's what really got her shaking in her boots and guarded up behind a concrete fence.
There was a great load lifted off his shoulders when Amanda reassured him that she wasn't scared of him. It gave him a sense of relief that it hadn't been as bad as he imagined; nevertheless, he wasn't going to forgive himself that easily. Nick knew he needed to work harder on controlling his anger, and if she ever gave him another chance, he'd cross oceans to prove just how much he wanted to better himself for her. "Amanda, there's something else I need to say," he started. This part of the apology was going to require him to swallow his pride and come to terms with the reality of their situation.
"I should have never pushed you to tell me what happened in Atlanta," he said. "Just because we were… together… it didn't mean you owed it to me to tell me." Nick held his hand against the back of his neck, hoping it would relieve some of the tension. "I never asked Barba about your testimony. I just made an assumption that there was more to the story based on one look. My intentions were not to investigate, but I realize now that my intentions don't really matter; because in the end, I hurt you." He looked up at the courthouse and sighed in frustration. "I guess… I guess I felt insecure not knowing. I just wanted to help. I just wanted to feel like you could trust me. But it's not about me," Nick stated firmly, capturing her eyes with an intensity and sincerity she hadn't quite seen before. "It's about you… It's your decision."
He closed his eyes and covered his mouth with his hands. Shaking the tears that were stinging through his eyelids, he tried to swallow all of that dread and despair down. "Just because I love you…" Nick trailed off. "Just because I gave it everything I got, doesn't make me entitled to get anything back. You gave me what you could, but I still pressured you to keep giving. And I'm sorry… You don't owe me anything, Amanda. Not your story, not your… love." He finished, a little unconvinced by that last word. It was starting to feel foreign on his lips.
"It is what it is. I understand if you don't want anything to do with me; and I'll respect that." Nick rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "But I'll always be here for you if you need me. That's never gonna change."
Amanda's gaze fell into the stretch of long road behind him. Her heart was pounding out of her chest and there were a billion different impulses firing away at her brain, but she couldn't act on any one of them, she couldn't even articulate any of it into words. She chewed on her lip and looked at the roads, wondering if the snowplow would come soon to clear it. There she was again, trying to distract herself from what was going on right in front of her in order to keep herself guarded. Why was she so afraid of looking vulnerable under Nick's gaze?
"I really have to go." Her eyes flashed up to meet his. She was standing right there, yet she still felt like she was a million miles away. Less than an arms length away, but he still couldn't reach her. He nodded somberly and watched as Amanda turned down the last few steps and walked down the street.
He gave her everything. She still didn't owe him a thing. If he pretended long enough that he could settle for just that, then maybe he could slowly silence those voices in his head screaming at him to fight for her.
The ink on the page might as well have appeared as hieroglyphics. Amanda sat on her desk and pored over the DD-5, starting with the first line. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. No matter how many times she mentally chastised herself to concentrate on the job, her mind kept drifting back to Nick's grand apology at the courthouse steps earlier that day. Focus, Amanda. The text stood in stark contrast against the white paper. It formed words she'd read, written, spoken, and endured. Words jumped out of the page – victim, powerless, assault, rape, silence, guilt. Yet, none of those words strung together in a way that made any sense.
Amanda closed the folder in frustration, eliciting an inquisitive look from her partner. A tight-lipped smile masked her grievances. She hoped Fin wouldn't mention it. He was usually perceptive about when she didn't want to talk about things that bothered her, which, in all actuality, was pretty much all the time.
The difference, she realized, between Fin and Nick was that while they both cared about her and looked out for her, Fin respected the boundaries she erected. He saw the walls and didn't try to peer over them or try to topple them over with a wrecking ball. They existed for a reason, and Fin knew it wasn't his call to know what lay beyond.
It wasn't that Nick completely disregarded her boundaries. He treaded slowly and patiently, studying the walls from the other side and wondering what could be behind them. Eventually, he got to a point where standing there and wondering wasn't enough. He reached for the low-hanging vines and started climbing up like those princes in fairy tales, in hopes of rescuing the fragile princess. The thought made her feel sick. Growing up, she had seen her mother and sister play the role of a helpless, broken girl in search of a man that could protect and provide for them. Ever since she was a little girl, Amanda knew the only thing she ever wanted was freedom.
Freedom from Loganville and a home where a new stranger was paying their bills every few months. Freedom from that blind hope that her dad was going to drive up on the dirt road, open the screen door, and announce to his little girl that he was home. All Amanda wanted was freedom from that kind of life. Freedom from unrelenting disappointment.
When she got out of Loganville and moved to Atlanta, the memories of empty promises and constant disappointment still lingered. She never really allowed herself to get close to anyone else in fear that they were just going to leave her. It would all just be too much, and someone somewhere would have less baggage to deal with. There was also no good reason to count on someone else when she managed to take care of herself just fine. Her mom and Kim could latch onto men for comfort and security for the rest of their lives; but she would die before she allowed that to happen to her.
There were a few men who had gotten too close. Most of them had pretty much steamrolled into her life, took what they wanted, and abandoned her. There were a few, like Nick, who had been gentle with her, slowly coaxing her out of her walls so she could begin to trust them. But when they had gotten too close, they only ended up proving what she'd known all along – they disappointed her. They left. Eventually, the walls got too much to climb, and those men just left her and found themselves someone easier to love.
Amanda pictured the screen door slamming, the truck driving away, and the dust billowing into the thick Georgia air. She saw Nick leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath like that morning outside the courthouse. Then he tilted his head up to the heavens. He wondered about the ascent.
All Nick had done was wonder. But she pushed him away and cut off those low-hanging vines by telling him lies just so he would stop looking at her with those pitying, watchful eyes. Why'd she push so hard? It wasn't like it was the first time a man had asked about her past. It wasn't like it was the first time a man wanted to hear the reason why she left Atlanta. She'd never told anyone the details like she did when she went over her testimony with Barba. She didn't know the ADA very well, but she knew he was a professional and he would keep it a well-guarded secret. And Nick had even assured her that Barba hadn't said anything. So, what was so terrifying about Nick knowing what Barba already knew? If she trusted the ADA to keep it a secret, then why couldn't she do the same with Nick? She trusted him more.
She trusted him more.
It should have been a no-brainer. Telling him would show him that she trusted him, and that's all he really wanted, right? To be assured that she was in this with him for the long haul. That he could share everything he's got to give, and she could return it back without holding herself back. She wanted to tell him desperately. Not so much about what happened to Patton – although she thought she could tell him if he wanted to – but to tell him about how he made her feel. That picture of the concrete wall suddenly gave way to an image of a dam with water spilling over the edge. Soon, cracks would form and the barrier would split; and water would surge out like truth from her lips.
What had terrified her about telling Nick earlier was that she had so much more to lose this time. And she screwed up, because she'd already pushed him and run away before she could tell him. She'd already lost Nick.
Amanda looked over at his desk and noticed that it had been unoccupied all afternoon. He hadn't returned from the courthouse. Benson was tucked away in her office, so it wasn't like he was out on with his partner.
"Looking for Amaro?" Fin asked, studying his partner who seemed to go from deeply introspective to restlessly anxious in a blink of an eye.
Amanda furrowed her brows and gave him a faint nod.
"Prob'ly went out with that MILF from the courthouse." Carisi spoke up without peering away from his computer screen.
The two other detectives looked up, jaws dropped and eyes wide in interest.
Carisi turned toward them and idly twisted his pen between his fingers. "Amaro ran into Hannah's mom during the arraignment. Turns out they were pals since pre-school or somethin'," he explained, with a wistful look in his eyes. "Anyway, she's a looker."
Amanda twisted her mouth in annoyance and jealousy. She tried to disregard the emotions and plant it down, but it was surging through her veins and it was replaced by anger. Was he really out on a date with Hannah's mom? After that apology on the courthouse steps, too?" Her forehead creased as she thought of a multitude of different ways to confront him about moving on so quickly. Her mind flashed back to that visual in her head about the dam bursting. She didn't know what compelled her more – if it was the anger over this stupid date or the excitement she felt about finally having the courage to tell him how she really felt. Sick of thinking about it any longer, she rose off her chair and flung her coat over her shoulders.
Fin raised his brow, but then he seemed to put the pieces together and he gave her a perceptive look. "You going for it?"
Amanda raised a shoulder and gave him a soft smile. "Yeah… you'll cover –"
"I'll cover for you," Fin smirked, leaning back against his chair.
"Thanks, Fin." Amanda rushed out of the station and took the stairs down. She couldn't wait for the elevator; she needed to use her legs. Rounding out the stairwell, she pushed the side door open and inhaled the brisk air. The snow had stopped and the sun had finally peeked through the clouds. She walked to her car, but it didn't feel like she'd get there in time, so she started sprinting towards it. Jumping into the driver's seat, she pressed the key into the ignition and backed out of her space.
She knew where she was headed and hoped to god he'd be there. But what if Carisi was right and what if he was really out on a date with that woman? She could trace his cell and find out where he was… God, that's such a Nick thing to do. Wherever he was, she just needed to see him so she could tell him. He'd done a lot of waiting and she'd done a lot of ignoring her feelings; it was about time she stepped up to the plate and proved she was part of this team.
If it meant crashing a date, then so be it.
A snowball aimed at his head was coming at him at a good speed. Nick ducked and dodged it just in time. He laughed heartily as he hurled his snowball toward his attacker's direction. It hit him right on the stomach. Nick threw his fists in the air only to get hit on his back. Doubling over from the hit, he fell back first against the blanket of fresh snow.
Nick lay on the ground and looked up to the sky. The clouds were clearing and the late afternoon sun was filtering through the naked branches overhead. He felt a sense of peace he hadn't felt in a while as he listened to his two children laugh and chase after each other. Pushing himself on his elbows, he watched as Zara leaped towards Gil, sending them both crashing through the snowman they had constructed earlier. It was more like a pile of snow with a Yankees cap, two rocks for eyes, and a baby carrot for a nose.
He felt a vibration in his coat pocket and fished for his phone. It must have been work. He asked Liv if he could have the rest of the afternoon off once he learned it was a snow day and school was out in the city. With Zara's timely visit from LA and Gil having the day off from school, he thought it'd be a perfect opportunity for his kids to spend some time together. It seemed it didn't matter how long these two were apart; they always played and argued like any old siblings that grew up in the same house.
He told Liv to call him anyway if a case came up, and he could just drop his kids over at his mom's house while he returned to work. He was surprised not to see Benson's name; instead 'Amanda Rollins' flashed on the screen.
"Amanda?"
"Nick," her voice was breathless on the other line. "Where are you? I'm at your door. Your car is here. No one's answering." She was panting. She had either been running or she was itching to run. "Where are you?"
She was looking for him.
Nick pushed himself off the ground and looked to the direction of his house. He couldn't see that far up the street, but she said she was there. "I'm at the park down the street."
"Down the street?" She repeated in a question. He could hear her pad down his stoop from the sound on the other line. Then, it sounded like she was running.
She was running to him.
Not away from him.
To him.
"Yeah, the park with the big hill."
"Where we…" She trailed off.
"Took Frannie out for a walk after midnight –"
"—So we took her to the park."
"Then we stood on top of the hill –"
"—And I was telling you about how the park was one of the last primeval forests in the borough."
"But I shut you up…" She panted into the receiver. "…When I kissed you."
And it was a hell of a kiss.
She seemed to stop running because she was breathing heavy. Nick spun around and saw her form appear over the incline of the road. She was standing there, the sun behind her, and she looked celestial. He hated to miss a second of her coming closer, but he remembered his kids and saw that Gil and Zara were taking the plastic sleds up the hill. Amanda's palms rested on her forehead as she slowed her pace. Nick walked towards her, and they met halfway, stopping right by the big, old tree.
"Your kids are here," she said, in between her gasps for air. "Of course… you're at the park… makes sense." She chuckled nervously.
"Snow day," he explained, studying her expression and seeing if he could discover why she left work early to drive to his house. She wasn't giving him that cold, blank look she'd been throwing at him for over a week now; but he could sense that she was still guarded.
Her head bobbed as she muttered something quietly to herself. He couldn't make it out but it sounded like she was rehearsing what she was about to say, just like he planned to do earlier; but all his words ended up being this jumbled mess of an apology. He wished he could have articulated himself better and reined it in when he talked about his dad, but he didn't regret it. He was actually relieved that he had said it. Even when she didn't say anything except tell him that she had to leave, he felt the weight lift off his shoulders. Amanda seemed to be struggling with it too, so he took a chance and reached for her hands. He could've used this earlier; and now, he could sense that she could use it too. Her fingers curled into his palm and he squeezed them in encouragement.
Amanda's lashes fluttered open and her misty eyes reflected upon his gaze.
"Nick," she cried softly. "I'm sorry."
With their sleds tucked under their arms, Gil and Zara finally reached the top of the hill. Gil belly flopped onto the snow and Zara giggled. She piled on top of him and sat on his back to survey the slope below. She was going to call her dad to watch them take the exhilarating trip down, be she saw he was busy talking to someone. Gil tried to push himself off the snow to see what had made his sister stop her high-pitched giggles. Their dad was talking to his co-worker. It was Amanda – the pretty, blonde detective with the cool dog.
"It's Amanda," Zara beamed. She waved her arms down at them and Amanda gave her a small, nervous wave back. Nick turned around and smiled at his kids, before he turned his attention back to the other detective.
Zara nudged Gil out of his thoughts. "You think she's daddy's girlfriend?"
"What?" He looked at her incredulously. Just because their dad was talking to her outside of work didn't automatically mean they were boyfriend and girlfriend. "Nah, she just works with dad," he said tentatively. "And sometimes he dogsits for her."
"Sounds like daddy likes her A LOT."
"Even if he did, he's got no chance with her," Gil argued skeptically. Zara darted her eyes at her brother and scowled at him. "Look at her, she's way too cool and way too pretty to be dad's girlfriend." He stopped himself before he revealed too much. He didn't want his little sister having any ammunition by finding out he had a silly, little crush on Detective Rollins – the most badass woman on the planet.
"Says you," Zara shot back, a devious grin forming on her face. "You're the one who looks like him."
Gil frowned, knowing Zara had a point. Of course he knew he'd never have a chance with a woman three times his age, but he kind of ate his words on that one when he said his dad couldn't possibly have a chance with her. He kept an eye on their interactions from their place at the top of the slope. They were too far up to hear their conversation, but Gil could see they were talking really close. The next second, his dad was reaching for Amanda's hand. Maybe Zara was onto something.
His little sister arched an eyebrow at him. "What I tell ya?"
The sun was shining brightly now, almost too bright that it made his eyes strain to see what was right in front of him. He pulled Amanda towards the barely shaded area by the tree. His kids laughed and screamed as they slid down the hill, only to race straight back up in their boundless energy. He smiled at his kids before he looked down at Amanda.
Tears pricked her eyes as she smiled tightly at the sight of his kids crawling up that last bit of steep slope. She met his eyes and chewed on her lip. Nick was a little startled when she took a step closer and squeezed his hands.
"I'm sorry for pushing you away when all you wanted to do was be there for me," she started, feeling a little bewildered that her legs weren't itching to run away at that particular moment. Instead, all she wanted to do was stand still right before him. "You've been so patient with me this entire time, and I've been so... ungrateful. I misunderstood your concern for something else, because I was too scared to tell you... How do I even begin to explain something that happened to me, when I feel like you'll understand me less after I've explained it?"
A tear fell down on her cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb. "You can try," he whispered. "And I can try to understand."
"It's not fair, Nick," she whimpered. "It's really not fair to you."
He pulled her into his chest as she sobbed, letting all those bottled up emotions out of her. That carefully rehearsed speech she went over in the car on her way up to his house had taken flight out the window; and it gave way to a torrent of tears and desperate 'I'm sorry's.
She pulled away from him, hating to leave that place of comfort where she could listen to his heartbeat; but she had to finish this. "You gave me everything even when I didn't want to accept it. The truth is, I was scared that you would end up being like every man who ever got too close to me. But you're not like any of them. You're not like any of the people who've left me," she tried to explain to him. "I ran before you ever gave me reason to."
"I did…" Nick trailed off, his voice still strained from the weight of his own mistakes. "I gave you a reason to run."
She shook her head as her lip trembled. "Don't beat yourself up over that," she assured him. "I was saying things I didn't mean… and I was pushing you away."
"But—"
"I didn't mean what I said about not…" Amanda pulled her hands away so she could grip her upper arms. She looked down at the ground. "Nick, I care about you. I care about this," she pointed to the space between them. "This means so much to me, and that's why I was so scared to admit it. I lied to you because I was scared of losing it all, and in my sick twisted head," she said, shaking her head in frustration. "I thought if I could run from it, it wouldn't hurt as much."
Nick's expression contorted to reflect her heartache.
"You finding out about the bad days and the things that made me feel powerless…" Amanda trailed off. "I thought that would make you want to leave me."
Nick held her arms and he rocked her gently. "I would never do that."
She bent her head down to break the steel-like gaze of his dark, brooding eyes. "I get it now. I get that what happened to me doesn't change a thing," she said. "You're not leaving."
He nodded.
"I'm sick of being guarded up, sick of being scared of my feelings for you, sick of thinking about how much I stand to lose… When you were never going to give up on us."
"I don't intend on letting you down, Amanda." Nick said, his eyes shining with tears. She was getting it. She was finally getting it.
"You went as fast or slow as I wanted; you gave me space and held me close whenever I asked for it," she said, and it seemed like it was all falling into place for her. "And you never gave up. Even today, when you said you'll always be here for me…" Amanda lifted her hands to his face and felt his cool skin under her fingertips. Nick was real. Nick was here. Nick didn't run.
Nothing had changed. Amanda had run from him and she had run back to him. She had built her walls up and torn her walls down. She had kissed him under the moonlight, between the sheets, at her doorstep for the first time almost a year ago. And she had fought him and driven him away because of her fears of the hypothetical. "You're still here."
"I'm still here." He echoed her words. Nick mirrored her actions and his hands grazed the blush on her cheeks.
"And I'm not running," she laughed softly, realizing her feet were still firm on the ground. And she was ok with it. "Nick, I want to tell you everything. I want us to sit down and you're probably going to have to hold me through it all, so I hope you're ok with that?"
He smiled down at her, tenderness filling his heart. "Anything you need, Amanda."
"It's just… your kids are here…"
"I know," he replied. "I can wait."
Her eyes widened in worry. "But I don't want you to have to wait—"
"Manda," he lifted her chin up. "I can wait as long as you need me to. Just… don't go."
She shook her head, "I don't plan on it."
He kissed away a tear that had fallen on her cheek.
"Maybe tonight?" She asked a bit restlessly. "When the kids are in bed, maybe we can talk?"
"Mhmmm." Nick tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled at her. "Anything you want, Amanda."
"Nick, I want you to know that I trust you."
Since that fight at her apartment, Nick had beat himself up over how little he'd learned from past relationships. He thought he had done things right this time around. How to love without being too cautious, without being too overbearing – he thought he might have found a good balance. Nick hoped this was it with Amanda, after striking out at true love the first two times. No, not the kind of puppy love he felt when he was twelve, or that infatuation phase after a really good date. He realized he had only felt that kind of real and raw emotion for three women; and he, at one point, had lost it all. Ball to glove, the umpire made his call, and he was out.
But the lights were still shining on the field and the game wasn't over. She gave him another chance to step to the plate and prove to her, and to himself that he had grown from his experiences. He wasn't the same kid thrust into a UC operation, accidentally falling for his boss' sister. He wasn't the same single guy who met that single girl, got married, had a baby, and planned out every perfect detail of their picture-perfect lives. He wasn't even the same man from last summer who had too much of a bruised ego to return Amanda's calls. Nick had learned from history. And sometimes, he'd be doomed to repeat the small errors. But he'd be damned if he let her slip away again. Ball to bat, he was hittin' it out of the park this time.
"I just… I feel like I'm not fenced in anymore, you know? Like, I'm finally free… ready to trust you completely… Finally ready to be honest with you about how I've been feeling." She cupped his jaw and stared at him longingly, tears brimming her blue eyes. "I love you, Nick."
Amanda closed her eyes and leaned up, closing the gap between them. Lips softly sealed and glided over each other. She parted them slightly and allowed her tongue to trace over his lower lip. Nick felt her hands wrap around his neck. The heat from the kiss shot through his whole body, like a warm embrace amidst the aftermath of winter's final farewell. He held her face in his hands, her cheeks glowing from the warmth and affection. Their lips interlocked like a promise. Once they parted and the promise was understood, their breaths were short but so full of gravity. They stared at each other for those silent seconds, their eyes full of love and understanding.
His heart felt like it was leaping out of his chest. Nick had been waiting for this moment, and just when he thought it would never arrive, it did. She was right here. And all that waiting, all that pain… It was all worth it even just for this singular moment.
"I love you too, Amanda."
"Yes! I told you so!" Zara jumped up and down, smiling triumphantly at the top of the hill. Her brother's jaw dropped to the ground and his eyes bugged out of his skull at what he'd just witnessed. His dad – the one who was a stickler when it came to curfew, the one who thought puns were the funniest kind of jokes, the one who gave him a hard time for cheering the Jets – just kissed the most badass woman on the planet.
At the bottom of the hill, Nick and Amanda turned around when they heard Zara yell. Shit, they both thought as they realized they had blown their cover; not that it really mattered. But it was something they both agreed not to talk about until they put a label on their relationship. So, was this it? They both just said 'I love you' to each other and promised to talk and never to run from each other. The kids knew, and now they both knew – this was it.
"Amanda, come sled with us!" Zara yelled, waving her little hands in the air.
Nick tilted his head and encouraged Amanda to race up. She sprinted towards the hill and Nick followed not long after. He took his time climbing the hill and watched as Amanda joined his kids at the very top. Zara nearly got her off-balance with a bear hug, and Nick watched as Gil hesitated with an awkward handshake before he finally gave in and encircled his lanky arms around her. Nick stood at the base of the slope and felt his heart swell with happiness.
Nick loved and lost. Looking back at all his missed opportunities, his shortcomings, and his grave errors, he had no regrets. If he hadn't played the role of Carlos from Cartagena, he would have never met Cynthia, and he would have never had Gil. It was the same story with Maria. If he had never heard her sing and asked her to marry him, he would never have his beautiful Zara. Those relationships with Cynthia and Maria may not have worked out in the end, but he got something more enriching and rewarding out of those experiences.
The three of them stood atop the snow-covered hill, and he climbed up to join them. They all stood at the peak, overlooking one of the last primeval forests in the borough. In the distance, the lights of Manhattan shimmered under a fresh brushstroke of snowflakes. Zara stuck her tongue out at the sky and Gil opened his palms to study the infinitesimal designs. Sirens wailed, emergency phone lines buzzed, and someone out on the streets was surviving a horrific chapter in their story. Tomorrow, they'd come into work to do their jobs. One day, things might have to change – but not this. No, this didn't have to change. For he was here; not there. And anything else, in this singular moment, was just white noise. Here, on what felt like the top of the world, with his son, his daughter, and the woman he wanted to wake up next to every morning and kiss good night for the rest of time. Here, was where Nick Amaro felt complete and most alive. Here, with the three greatest loves of his life.