AN: There's... all sortsa stuff in here.
I used to run at first sight of the sun / now I lay here waiting for you to wake up
Four-ish years earlier.
"Maaaamaaaa."
Jesse's moans were just loud enough to rouse Amanda. She blinked the room into focus and rolled over: Sonny was snoring contently beside her, cheek against one of her pillows, long limbs akimbo. He had only recently begun to sleep over regularly, instead of either of them stealing a few hours at the other's apartment, but he certainly seemed comfortable enough. Amanda shifted from beneath the sheets as carefully as possible before tip-toeing across the floor to the hallway. Dressed only in an over-sized NYPD t-shirt and bleary-eyed from hours of rest, she opened up the door to her daughter's room.
"What's the matter-" Amanda froze in the doorway at the sight of Jesse in her bed, covered in vomit. The toddler looked so frightened and pathetic, sitting in a tangle of messy blankets, her hair sticking up in five different directions. Even in the dim glow of the night light, she could see Jesse's cheeks were streaked with tears. "Oh, Jesse..." she groaned.
"I throwed up," Jesse sniffed, as if it was not obvious.
She rubbed her forehead and sighed as she contemplated the best plan of action. "Oh, lord..."
"Mamaaaa," the toddler whined.
"Okay, okay." Amanda rushed to the side of the bed to begin to pluck Jesse from her mess.
"'Manda? What's goin' on?" came Sonny's voice from the hallway.
She paused, immediately horrified. "Sonny, don't come in here," she ordered nervously.
"Why not?" he asked curiously.
Gingerly, she gathered Jesse up into her arms. "Jesse threw up."
Sonny poked his head in the doorway. His hair was just as disheveled as Jesse's. "Oh, that's all?"
Amanda was weirdly embarrassed. It wasn't as if her daughter getting sick was her fault, or something all that out of the ordinary, but it wasn't exactly the most attractive scenario to walk in on when you were dating somebody. There was absolutely nothing cute or sexy about a toddler covered in puke. Despite Amanda's cover of confidence and independence, she wanted Sonny to want her, to enjoy being a part of her life. She was not like the women he went to law school with, who were only tethered to their studies. She was a mother, and that was a role that was more challenging and time-consuming than anything. Sometimes it was soft and sweet, but other times it was frustrating and, frankly, gross. Either way, it was a lot, and she held on to a lingering fear that one day Sonny would not be willing or able to cope.
"Alright, Jesse. Let's get you in the bath, huh?" Amanda suggested gently, essentially ignoring Sonny as she slipped past him to the bathroom. She shut the door behind her and exhaled audibly, shifting her focus from her own anxieties to her ill daughter. "How's your tummy now?" she asked Jesse, setting her carefully on the tile floor.
"Okay," the little girl mumbled, then hiccuped.
Amanda pressed the back of her hand to Jesse's forehead in a crude attempt at assessing whether or not she had a temperature - she was warm, but not abnormally so. She began to run the bath before she began helping Jesse strip out of her damp pajamas. When the tub was filled with warm water, she hoisted the toddler in before settling on her knees with a wash cloth in hand. After adding soap, she rinsed her daughter off carefully. The little girl only fussed when Amanda went to wash her hair - she hated that - but eventually she acquiesced, most likely too tired to throw a full-blown tantrum.
"I'm sorry you're sick, baby," Amanda told her, then smiled. "But now you're fresh as a daisy."
Jesse giggled in response, which was a good sign.
Once she was satisfied that her daughter was clean, she pulled Jesse from the water and began to dry her off. She wrapped her up in a fluffy blue towel and picked her up to tote her back to her bedroom. There, she found that her small bed had been stripped of all of the sheets. She quirked an eyebrow, confused, before turning her attention back to Jesse.
"Put your PJs on and come to mama's room, okay?" she explained, pulling a fresh pair of pajamas out of a drawer before setting Jesse down. "I wanna brush that hair out before you lay down."
Jesse nodded and began to clamber into the outfit. Amanda slid out of the room and into her own to find Sonny stretched out on the bed, leaned back against the headboard, leisurely reading something on his phone like it wasn't three o'clock in the morning.
"What happened to the bed?" she asked him curiously.
"I ran the sheets down to the basement. I figured it was better to put it in the washer sooner rather than later," he answered simply, eyes flickering up from his phone to meet hers.
That surprised her - but why? Maybe she still thought his kindness was conditional, like if they weren't fucking or working, Sonny wasn't obligated to be good. Except Amanda found herself repeatedly in awe of his commitment to being a decent human being, no matter the circumstances. "Oh. Okay. Thanks," she replied awkwardly. She looked down at herself: her navy t-shirt was now stained with her daughter's vomit. She cringed, heat rising in her cheeks as she imagined what she must look like. Meeting Sonny's eyes again, she remarked sheepishly, "this is sexy, huh?"
He offered her a grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Very."
Walking over to her bureau, Amanda's back was to him as she peeled off her top and cast it aside in favor of a clean one.
"That's definitely sexy," she heard Sonny smirk.
She tossed a coy glance at him over her bare shoulder before tugging a new t-shirt over her head.
The door creaked open, then Sonny said, "Hey, kiddo. How ya feelin'?"
She turned to see Jesse flinging her stuffed rabbit onto the bed before she started climbing onto the mattress, clad in her fresh pajamas. "Bad."
Amanda eyed her suspiciously. "Are you gonna throw up again?"
She shook her head. "No."
"Try and give me a little warning if you are, okay?" Amanda requested, sinking down next to her on the edge of the bed, armed with a comb. "Otherwise we're gonna run outta sheets."
"I throwed up everywhere!" Jesse told Sonny proudly.
"Yeah, you did," Sonny responded, sitting up straighter and leaning in closer. He poked at Jesse's knee. "Who knew all that could come from such a little girl?"
Amanda rolled her eyes as she gently worked through her daughter's tangled hair, but she found herself smiling, too.
"I a big girl," Jesse corrected him.
"Ah, right. Sorry. You are pretty big." He waggled his eyebrows. "But I remember when you were a teeny tiny baby."
Jesse shook her head, momentarily pausing her mother's work on her hair. "Noooo."
"You were," he insisted. "You were this big." Holding up a hand, he indicated a ridiculously small space between his thumb and his forefinger.
"No I wasn't!" Jesse giggled.
"Yep." Sonny nodded seriously, but a grin was pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I coulda put you in my pocket."
"Your pocket?!" she shrieked with laughter. She clutched her stuffed rabbit and fell forward, giggling into the comforter. "No!" She rolled over onto her back, breathless with amusement. "Mama?!"
"It's true. You were the teeniest, tiniest little thing I had ever seen. I almost ate you right up, you were so cute." She gave one of Jesse's small bare feet a playful squeeze. "Still are. Now, can I get you a little ginger ale to sip on, huh?"
"Uh huh," Jesse agreed.
Getting up and shuffling into the kitchen, Amanda pulled open her refrigerator and peered inside. Usually any ginger ale was kept to be mixed exclusively with whiskey, but this time she dumped some into one of Jesse's covered plastic cups. When she brought it back to her daughter, she held it out for her, instructing, "small sips."
Jesse sat up and scrunched her nose when she drank. "Bubbles."
"It's soda," Amanda explained, sitting back down beside her.
The little girl's eyes widened; she was never allowed to drink soda. Eagerly, like she was afraid her mother would realize her error and take it away, she tilted the cup back and began to gulp it down.
"Ah, hey, it's not a keg stand," Sonny chuckled, hand reaching out to guide her cup back down. "Small sips, remember?"
Amanda smiled and lifted her eyes from Jesse to meet Sonny's gaze. He looked tired but content in the sort of way that threatened to stop her heart in her chest, because maybe this wasn't so awful for him after all. Maybe he had room in his heart to care for them both. I don't need his help, the stubborn, prideful part of her thought. But... I want it. She could never admit such a thing out loud - she would need at least five drinks, minimum, beforehand - but it was nice to share a bed and meals and bad television with someone. It was more than just a warm body temporarily easing loneliness; it felt more like a partnership than any other 'relationship' she had ever had.
She had never been in love before.
Amanda was well-acquainted with lust, the sensation of burning up from the inside, everything all flushed skin, blown-out pupils and anticipation. She had that with Sonny, but then there was all this other stuff, too. His happiness was hers. She liked the way his mind worked; she learned from him. She couldn't cook, but she found satisfaction in making him a drink or running her hands along the tired muscles in his shoulders after long days. When they worked opposite shifts, she left him secret notes at his desk, hidden between the screen and keyboard of his closed laptop, can't wait to see you... xo A. She found reassurance in his hand at the small of her back and the scent of his cologne lingering on her sheets. If all of that was love, she was besotted.
She was too much of a coward to tell him. Leaning over Jesse, Amanda kissed Sonny instead. It was soft, gentle, and when she pulled away he was looking at her so intensely that she felt herself begin to blush.
"Sleepy," Jesse yawned, her little body leaning into Amanda's.
Amanda blinked a few times, re-focusing herself on her daughter. "It's way past your bed time. It's way past all of our bed times." She smoothed a hand over Jesse's hair. "D'you wanna go lay down?"
Jesse nodded.
"I'll keep all the doors open, so I can listen if you need me, okay?" Amanda stood up, taking Jesse's cup in her hand. "Say g'night."
"Night-night." The toddler flopped over and hugged Sonny's leg.
"Night-night," Sonny replied, a palm resting atop Jesse's head affectionately.
"Say, 'thanks for cleanin' up my throw-up,'" Amanda grinned.
"Thanks for cleaning throw-up," the toddler repeated obediently.
"You're welcome," he chuckled.
She helped Jesse climb off of the mattress to go get settled back in her room. Before they left, Amanda looked at Sonny and he looked at her, and the words were right on the tip of her tongue. Thank you, I love you, she wanted to tell him. I never knew how lonely all of this used to feel until you came around.
Amanda turned around and followed her daughter out into the hallway, leaving Sonny alone in her bed.
For their two year wedding anniversary, Amanda didn't want to be in the city. Last year, the date had been tainted by her miscarriage, and in a sense she wanted a do-over. They didn't have the money to fly somewhere tropical and extravagant, but she didn't necessarily need all the fuss that came with that, either. They settled on four nights in a cabin in North Creek, New York right in the middle of the Adirondack mountains. It was a four hour drive into the wilderness before they arrived at a cottage overlooking a bubbling river. It was surprisingly spacious, with wood-paneled walls, a lofted bedroom and a big, stone fireplace in the middle of the living room. All the furnishings were rustic and warm, a stark contrast to the sharp edges and cool metallic of New York City. A porch jutted over the creek with two chairs facing outward into the mountains. Given the elevation, the temperature would only reach the high 40's that week.
They had cell service, but nothing more. Amanda was too anxious to be totally disconnected - not with three children, two pets and a job that required near-constant attention. Her maternity leave ended in a few weeks, but this was the first break Sonny had since the baby had been born and she had been hospitalized. He was entitled to time off, but much like Amanda, he stayed tethered to SVU more often than not.
It was Friday evening by the time they arrived. They hauled their belongings - consisting of mostly food and alcohol - inside before getting settled. Amanda took their luggage upstairs to the bedroom, while Sonny tinkered around in the living room. He was determined to start a fire in the fireplace and she knew better than to get involved when he was on any particular mission. She flopped dramatically onto her back onto the king-sized mattress, starfish-ing out her limbs in the center of the bed luxuriously. It was only a few minutes until she was uncomfortable, because she was still in the constrictive jeans and shirt she had been wearing for four hours in the car. Sitting up, Amanda began to rifle through the single, massive suitcase they had both packed their clothes in.
She eventually shed all of her layers in favor of a single, green plaid shirt that belonged to Sonny. It was too big, the hem hitting her at mid-thigh - but that was the point. She kept the top two buttons undone, allowing the soft flannel fabric to drift down her shoulder. Bright blonde hair hanging loose around her face, Amanda padded down the iron spiral staircase. Sonny was struggling with the kindling of the fire, talking to himself as he often did when completing a task, so she moved into the adjoining kitchen. She uncorked a bottle of red wine and dumped some into two Solo cups - bringing real glassware seemed ridiculous. For a few minutes, she silently sipped and observed Sonny's work.
"Aha! Got it!" Sonny suddenly exclaimed victoriously from his spot kneeling in front of the fireplace.
Walking over to him with two cups in hand, Amanda sat down beside him on the rug, her knees bent to one side. Her eyes flickered to the fire, which was small but slowly growing. "What a good boy scout," she purred approvingly over her bare shoulder, an impish grin on her lips. She held his cup out in front of him.
"Thank you," he responded proudly, taking his glass. Swallowing a mouthful of wine, his eyes flickered up and down her form before he leaned in and kissed her. "You look sexy."
She grinned. "Everybody looks sexy in firelight."
"Mm, not true." Sonny pecked at her lips again before kissing her jaw then nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. His free hand crept up her bare thigh to shamelessly palm the curve of her ass.
Amanda set down her cup and caught his face between her hands. The pad of her thumb grazed over his lower lip as she met his gaze. "You look pretty sexy yourself, bein' all manly and stuff."
He met her mouth with his again. "Y'know the best part of this place?" he murmured against her lips.
She slid her arms around his neck, scooting closer to him in the process. "Hm?"
A mischievous smirk took over Sonny's features. "We can be as loud as we want."
"The key to good bread is letting the dough rise properly," Mrs. Carisi explained, bent over to peek into the window of her oven. "People are always in such a rush. That ruins it, you know?"
No, she did not know: Amanda ate bread, she didn't think too much about it and she definitely didn't bake it. Thank God for Sonny's family, who didn't expect her to know a damn thing about the kitchen just as long as appreciated whatever they put in front of her. You're too thin, his mother always said, no matter what her daughter-in-law looked like. Over the years Amanda had figured out that feeding people was how Carisis showed love - and she was very appreciative of all of their affection. Especially that evening, which was blustery and unseasonably cold for the end of April, but the house was warm from the work going on in the kitchen. While Sonny helped his father set up a new entertainment system (with the added task of watching Luca), Amanda and Jesse kept Mrs. Carisi company. Ruby was awake in her swing near-by, blue eyes wide as she took in the environment. At three-and-a-half months old, she was growing more and more aware every day.
Standing on a foot stool, Jesse was carefully sculpting her allotted dough into small, lopsided hearts at the counter. Amanda hovered over her, behind her, her dark jeans and gray sweater dusted in flour as if she was the one playing. She didn't mind: it was a sufficient distraction for Jesse and it was fun watching what shapes she came up with.
Amanda toyed with her daughter's long hair, gently brushing it away from her face with her fingers. "Can you make a 'J'?" she asked her.
Jesse nodded. "Uh huh." She squished up a glob of dough and with great concentration, began to form it into the letter - backwards.
"The hook goes the other way, remember?" she reminded Jesse.
"Oh yeah." She looked up. "Will you help me with... with 'e'?"
"Sure." Reaching around her, Amanda took a little bit of the dough and began to slowly make an 'e,' so Jesse could see how the letter was formed.
The doorbell rang, getting everyone's attention.
"Jesse, get the door for nana, will you?" Mrs. Carisi asked as she stirred one pot on the stove and added salt to another.
"Okay!" Jesse jumped from her stool and sprinted into the other room. She loved doing anything that she perceived to be helpful.
"Look through the window to see who it is first," Amanda reminded her, always wary.
"It's a pretty lady," Jesse yelled.
"Can you be a little more specific?" she chuckled.
"What's that mean?" her daughter called back.
"I got it," Amanda assured Sonny's mother, dusting off her hands before walking toward the front of the house. There, she found Jesse peering out the side window panel curiously. Amanda pulled open the door to see a woman, tall and thin beneath an elegant tan pea coat, standing on the steps. Her hair was wavy and blonde, reaching just below her shoulders, and her eyes were remarkably green. When she smiled, she displayed a row of straight, white teeth.
"Hi, um, do the Carisis still live here?" she asked.
"Yeah..." Amanda replied cautiously.
"Oh, my goodness!" came Mrs. Carisi's excited voice from behind her daughter-in-law. "Is that you, Dana?"
"Mrs. Carisi! Hi! Yeah, it's me!" the woman replied, equally as enthusiastic.
Sonny's mother crowded in at Amanda's side. "I can't believe it! What are you doin' here, all the way from L.A.?"
"I'm in New York City for a few weeks of training so I'm spending some time with my folks," Dana explained.
"I just saw them at church and they didn't mention it! Come in, come in," Mrs. Carisi said, waving her hands to motion her inside. "Dom! Sonny! Get in here!" she called over her shoulder.
Amanda stepped aside, confused as the two women embraced.
When Sonny appeared, a wiggling, babbling Luca was under his arm. He set him down by his feet, only for the little boy to cling to his leg. "Is the food done yet?" Sonny asked. "We're-" He stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening on the other woman in the room. "Dana?"
Dana beamed. "Hey, Sonny."
"Uh, I, hi. Hey," he stammered, very obviously shocked. "What are you doin' here?"
"LAPD sent me and three other detectives to the city for some specialized training," she explained. "Chief told us NYPD's Special Victims is the gold standard, so we'll be taking some courses and shadowing-"
"Sonny works for Special Victims!" Mrs. Carisi interrupted. "So does Amanda."
"No way!" Dana grinned, looking between the two of them.
"Yeah! I do," Sonny responded proudly.
Amanda glared at him expectantly.
"Oh, yeah. This is my wife, Amanda," he said hastily. "This is Jesse," he pointed to the little girl next to Amanda, then set a hand on Luca's head, "and this is Luca," he gestured to the baby in her swing, "and right over there is Ruby."
Oh, yeah, this is me wanting to punch you in the fucking face, Amanda thought irritably. She eyed Dana with a narrow, searching gaze. She did not have to be a trained detective to figure out that this was Sonny's ex-girlfriend. All she knew about her was that they had met on the force in Staten Island and she had moved away to California years and years ago. She was annoyingly attractive; at least three inches taller than Amanda, Dana could have been a model. It made Amanda wish that she had put make-up on that morning, or chosen a different outfit, or hadn't opted to have her hair in a sloppy bun at the top of her head.
Dana's eyes widened. "Wow, are these all your-"
"They're our kids, yeah," Amanda interrupted, smiling even though it was painfully difficult to maintain.
"Dana, we were just finishin' up making dinner," Mrs. Carisi explained. "Can you stay?"
"Are you sure it wouldn't be too much? I don't want to impose..." Dana replied shyly.
"Of course you aren't imposing!" Sonny's mother insisted. She looked between her son, husband and Amanda. "We're so happy to see you!"
Dinner was painful, but seemingly only for Amanda. Dana was likable. In fact, Amanda could picture being her friend, which somehow only served to make her more irritated. It was obvious that she had returned to the Carisi home in search of Sonny, not to chat with his parents - and definitely not to hang out with his wife and three children - but his mother and father were clearly enamored with her. Have they ever been that interested in my life? Amanda wondered. Or has it always been too filled with landmines for them to truly want to explore? She kept relatively quiet as they all rehashed shared memories, the kids occupying her just enough to have an excuse not to participate in the conversation. It wasn't like she had much to say, anyway, because this was a life Sonny had lived long before he ever met her.
Dana lingered into the evening. After dinner, they moved from the dining room table to sit in the living room to talk. All the while, Amanda took careful note of Sonny's facial expressions and tone of voice - for the majority of the night, he resembled an over-eager golden retriever. When it was too late for any of the children to be up, Amanda made her exit. On the second floor, she fed Ruby a bottle, gave Luca a bath and read him a story, and settled Jesse into bed. Everything was quiet except for the jovial conversation downstairs. Amanda weighed her options: she could return to the group and continue to be a silent bystander, or she could hole herself up in Sonny's old room and seethe. She opted for the latter.
When she finally got into bed, she did so alone. Amanda clutched the sheets tightly around her, teeth gritted as she stared at the door. She hadn't felt jealous in a long time. She remembered Leah - cute as a button with a crush on Sonny but no real malicious intent - and how crazy she had been with her. Granted, Amanda had been pregnant at the time, but it was no excuse to be a bully. It was just that her relationship with Sonny was the most precious thing she had (besides her kids) and whenever she perceived it being threatened, logic seemed to become irrelevant.
When the bedroom door eventually opened, she remained still and silent. In the dark, she watched Sonny move around the room. The floorboards of the old house creaked beneath him as he changed, eventually sliding into bed beside her so her back was to his chest.
"Nice of you to join me, Hometown Hero," she grumbled.
She heard Sonny click his tongue in disapproval. "You could have stayed up with us."
"I had to take care of your children," she reminded him haughtily.
He sighed. "You could have come back down after."
"And break up the 120th Precinct reunion? I wouldn't dream of it," Amanda said snidely.
"What are you, jealous?" he asked.
"Are you kidding me?" she scoffed. "I'm a grown woman."
Sonny's hand crept up her abdomen, on an obvious path to grope her. "That's good..."
She wriggled away slightly. "I'm not in the mood."
"Aw, c'mon..." She felt him move behind her, his arm holding her in place. He kissed her shoulder, then her neck. "You looked so cute, all covered in flour earlier..."
Amanda rolled her eyes. "Sonny..."
"And those jeans you were wearin'? You know I think you've got the best ass in NYPD," he murmured flirtatiously.
"That better include Staten Island PD," she mumbled.
"Including Staten Island PD," Sonny chuckled.
"Good." Her eyes flickered to his hand again, which was now sliding up her chest to her face. He tilted her chin over her shoulder toward him and kissed her, slow and deep. "Sonny... I think your parents are still up," she reminded him against his lips.
"So what?" Sonny's hand drifted back down, roaming over the dip of her waist and the curve of her hip.
She kissed him again, in spite of herself. "I don't want them hearin' us."
"We'll be quiet," he promised. "Plus they're half-deaf anyway, you know that."
Amanda had to admit, the prospect was kind of exciting. She moved onto her back to let Sonny shift on top of her, her arms lacing around his neck as he kissed her once more. She rolled her hips upward, a leg loosely hooking around his. Dana's appearance had made her feel especially possessive, but that sent her mind reeling again. How was Dana in bed? She was definitely gorgeous, which earned her points, but that didn't always equate to a good time...
"Is she prettier than me?" Amanda blurted.
Sonny froze. "What?" he asked breathlessly, looking down at her as if she was crazy.
"Dana. Is she prettier than me?" she repeated. She could have said 'never mind,' but she was much too high-strung for that. "Be honest."
His brow furrowed. "Of course she isn't."
"Why'd you break up?" she demanded.
He sighed and rolled off of her onto his back. He ran his palms roughly up and down his face, clearly frustrated. Amanda supposed she couldn't blame him - instead of having sex, he was being interrogated. "She moved to LA. I told you that."
She looked over at him pointedly. "So if she hadn't..."
"Amanda." His tone was warning; she was going too far.
She rolled over onto her side, back to him, eyes on the door. "She came here to find you, you know," she told him bitterly.
"I know," he replied.
Her eyes widened and she flipped back over, struggling to sit up. Her eyes narrowed on Sonny in the dark. "You do? How do you know that?"
"She told me."
"What?"
"She told me she came lookin' for me. She didn't know I was married."
"You 'are' married. 'Are,'" she corrected him.
"You know what I mean." He sounded exasperated.
"Have you guys been talking? I mean, before this?" Amanda demanded, her heart beginning to race in sickening anticipation.
"No, of course not," Sonny exclaimed. "What do I have to talk to her about?"
She scowled. "I don't know, you certainly had a lot to say tonight."
"Amanda, come on. Don't be like this," he pleaded quietly.
The tone of his voice suddenly had her feeling sheepish. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and stared out into the familiar room. Sonny's mother had long since redone Sonny's old space since he went to college, but she still kept a collection of photographs of him on the desk. Amanda had always jokingly referred to it as the shrine; her own mother maybe had three pictures of her, total, and they were probably covered in dust in her attic. It was a testament to how adored Sonny was, the Carisis' golden child, their only son.
"Sorry," Amanda eventually mumbled because she was, sort of.
Sonny rolled over onto his side, facing away from her. "S'alright," he sighed. "Let's just get some rest, huh?"
She opened her mouth to go on, then snapped it shut a moment later. She felt rejected now, her ego bruised by his sudden disinterest even though it was definitely her fault. Chewing on her lower lip, Amanda sunk down beneath the sheets again, squeezed her eyes shut and pretended to fall asleep.
