Chapter 5

She woke to the feeling of a pounding headache, a sore throat and a cold shiver creeping down her spine. Blue eyes slowly opened and Amanda looked around the motel room. The sheets were draped around her naked body, reminding her instantly of what had happened the night before. Slowly she turned her head, unsure what to expect. What she saw was the other side of the bed empty, the mattress cold. A heavy sigh escaped her as she let her head fall back onto the pillow, the images from the night before flashing before her eyes.

"Shit, shit, shit," she hissed to herself, shuddering as the memory of Olivia Benson's fingers between her thighs hit her hard. Amanda's teeth sank down in her bottom lip until she tasted her own blood and she willed herself to store the image into the back of her mind. Anger welled up inside of her and she kicked the sheets away from her. "FUCK!"

She sat up, naked, and let her eyes wander around the room. Olivia's clothes were gone. The only reminders of what had happened here were her own clothes lying across the floor, the empty beer cans and the pizza box. With a sickening feeling Amanda swung her legs over the side of the bed and got up. She walked across to the bathroom and switched on the shower. She turned to the mirror and saw her own reflection.

She'd slept with Olivia Benson. Somehow she had let go of all her self restraint and just gave into what she was feeling. They crossed a line; one which she knew could never be uncrossed. Her eyes fluttered shut. Olivia Benson. The same Olivia Benson who was in a relationship with Brian Cassidy. Last night she'd said this was a bad idea and now that the morning was here she knew why. This was never supposed to happen. But Olivia had wanted it too. She had been the one who said she didn't care about the next morning when they would have to face what they had done. She had kissed Amanda, touched her, and loved her.

The bite mark just above her collar bone, bruised in a dark shade of purple, was a clear reminder of that. Amanda's blonde hair fell in messy strings across her face. She felt like she'd run a marathon. Her body ached in ways she didn't know it could ache. Not just on the outside but on the inside too. Waking up to find Olivia was gone hurt. It told what deep down she already knew. This had been a mistake. Amanda's blue eyes were hollow and when she stepped into the shower she couldn't suppress the tears that came out of nowhere and she cried.

The empty bed told her Olivia had left. She didn't want to stay, couldn't face the morning knowing what had happened between them. She should have known this would happen. As the water poured down on her Amanda mentally chastised herself for actually believing that maybe Olivia would have been there when she woke up. But she wasn't. She was alone. She would always be alone.

Fifteen minutes later and with her skin rubbed raw in an attempt to erase as much of the previous night as possible she emerged from the shower, wrapped herself up in a towel and quickly grabbed a set of clean clothes from her suitcase. She got dressed, brushed her hair and threw her dirty clothes into her case before zipping it up. She didn't know where Olivia was. She grabbed her phone of the side table and checked for any calls or messages. There were none. Amanda then opened the door and stepped out of the room. When she approached the pick-up parked right outside she noticed the person sitting inside.

Amanda's heart skipped a beat when she saw Olivia leaning against the window, her hand underneath her head and her eyes closed. From where she stood it seemed as if the detective was asleep but she had learnt never to trust things at first glance. As she slowly approached the vehicle Amanda noticed Olivia's eyes opening and through the windscreen their gazes locked. It was a look that spoke a thousand words and if her heart was capable of breaking into a thousand pieces, Amanda felt it shatter in that very moment.

She opened the door to the drivers' side and hauled her suitcase into the back. Her eyes then drifted back to Olivia. The brunette was watching her.

Amanda didn't climb into the truck. She stood by the door, her hand on the door handle. A gust of wind pulled at her hair and sent a shiver down her spine. "Hey."

"Hey."

It had stopped raining. The sun was trying to break through the clouds and it looked like it was set to be a nice day. Amanda looked around outside the truck to see a few tree branches in the road but it looked like the damage from the storm was limited. When she looked back at Olivia the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Amanda saw the hurt and the pain in Olivia's eyes.

"How long have you been here?" It rolled off her tongue without really thinking and she immediately regretted it.

"I errr…," Olivia began, her voice shaking. "Amanda…"

Amanda understood. Olivia didn't have to say anything. She heaved a sigh, got behind the wheel and stuck the key in the ignition. From the corner of her eye she saw Olivia looking at her. She knew what that look meant. She knew what Olivia was trying to say. They wouldn't talk about it. What happened between them would never be mentioned again. It didn't happen.

"You want coffee?" Amanda asked, her voice flat. She avoided making eye contact. She wasn't sure she could take the rejection or face the turmoil she'd seen in Olivia's eyes. She didn't know if she would be able to cope with her own emotions on top of that. She put the car in reverse and the engine roared. She clutched the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white and her muscles hurt. "There's a good place at the airport."

"Yeah," Olivia said quietly. "And then we can go home."

Amanda cringed as those words sank in. She didn't know what home was anymore. Once it had been Atlanta until she fled, seeking shelter in New York. That was where her path crossed that of Olivia Benson and now, after last night, New York didn't feel like anything anymore. She swallowed hard as she turned right at the end of the road and picked up the signs for the airport.

They didn't speak. The silence was deafening and heart shattering but Amanda could find the words. Every so often she would look at Olivia. The older woman's head still rested against the window, her fingers threaded in her hair and her eyes fixed on something in the distance that Amanda couldn't see. When she eventually reached for the radio and switched it on she was struck by the song playing and felt the tears well up as she drove and the lyrics filled the truck, confronting them both with a painful and uncomfortable truth.

"…My heart can't take the beating, not having you to hold. A small voice keeps repeating deep inside my soul, it says I can't keep pretending I don't love you anymore…"

~()~

There had never been a day that felt longer in her life than this one. When Amanda finally closed the door to her apartment behind her she didn't know how she had made it this far. The sound of the door falling into its lock only to be confronted by the emptiness of her apartment hit her like a ton of bricks. She abandoned her suitcase in the kitchen and walked through the small living room to her bedroom. Olivia had suggested they both got changed before going back to the precinct. It had sounded like an excuse to get away from her for a little while and Amanda couldn't even bring herself to hurt anymore. She felt numb.

She sank down onto the bed and kicked off her shoes, all the while remembering Olivia. They'd spent a couple of hours in one of the coffee shops at the airport until it was time for them to catch their flight. They didn't speak. Not even about the case. The silence lasted for hours but once they were on the plane Olivia, who sat by the window, went to sleep. Amanda, sitting next to her, pretended to be reading one of the magazines stuffed into the pocket of the seat in front of her, but couldn't focus. How could two people make such a mistake?

Amanda changed into a pair of black slacks, white long sleeved blouse and red jacket, brushed her hair and tied it into a ponytail, and put on her boots. She strapped her gun to her waist, clipped her shield to her belt and made sure that her blouse covered up the bite mark. The last thing she needed was Fin asking questions about how exactly she got it.

She took the subway to the precinct and walked into the squad room to find Olivia's desk empty. The aching in her chest almost immediately subsided. Not being confronted by the dark haired woman gave her time to rebuild her wall, to slip back behind the mask. She heaved a sigh in relief and immediately checked in with Fin and Nick who filled her in on their latest rape victim.

"Name's Sheila Montgomery, 25. She was walking home after a party at a friend's house when he attacked her. Same MO. Knocked her to the ground from behind, raped her and told her she should have watched her back then called 911," Fin said as Amanda studied the crime scene photos on the board. "Find anything in Georgia?"

"Yeah but nothing that helps this case," she answered without looking at him. When she felt his eyes burn into her back she turned slightly and forced to smile. "A whole lot of demons I don't wanna deal with."

Nick leaned back into his chair. "Have we given any thought as to why this guy attacks women this way? He's a serial rapist. He must have some kind of motivation for his attacks. They're organised, his MO doesn't change. Something's driving him."

"Rape is about control and power," Amanda answered. "He needs to overpower these women because in his day to day life he doesn't feel confident enough or he sees them as something that he can claim. To some men, women are just objects that are meaningless."

"Two completely different scenarios," Fin pointed out. "They both suit a different type of man. This guy is attacking from behind. What is he afraid of? That they see his face? Or is it because he's too afraid to look them in the eye?"

Amanda arched an eyebrow. "Guilt? That would be a first."

"Some rapists and child molesters do know that what they're doing is wrong," Nick added. "But their urges prevent them from stopping. These are usually the type that claims they're sick. If this guy does have some kind of remorse it could explain why he calls 911 after he rapes them."

Fin looked at Nick. "But it doesn't explain why he tells the women they should have watched their backs."

"It could be symbolic," Amanda suggested and the two men turned to her. She pointed at the pictures of the victims on the board and the sketch of the scar. "If Nick is right and this guy does feel some kind of hurt, even knows what he's doing is wrong, then maybe what he's trying to say is that if they had turned around and seen him, maybe tried to get away or even challenged him, he wouldn't have done what he did."

"He's blaming the victims," Nick said slowly. "He's saying it was their fault."

"Doesn't sound like someone who feels guilty to me." Fin's eyes narrowed. "He's just like any other pervert out there."

Amanda turned towards her partner. "But he doesn't think he is and that makes him act the way he does."

"So not only is a rapist, he's an idiot too?" Nick said.

Fin nudged him, a grin across his face. "Wouldn't be the first."

Amanda walked over to the board, her eyes darting from one victim to the next and picked up a pen. She started writing and when she was finished she looked at the two men.

"Our first victim, Serena Lambert, was on her way back from her boyfriend's place in Greenwich Village. Her parents live in the Upper West Side. Alison McKenzie was on her way to see a friend who lives on West 16th Street. She'd gotten off the subway ten minutes before she was attacked and Lauren Jones watched her friend play a gig in Soho but had gotten off the subway a couple of blocks from her apartment and was walking home." She slowly turned back to the board. "Lauren's apartment was on West 26th Street."

Fin sat up, having spotted the point Amanda was making. "All these journeys travel through or end in Chelsea."

"We have a winner," she said. "Victim number four Emma Hamilton's band practice was in a small studio in the East Village and she took the subway home to Chelsea." She paused and looked at Nick and Fin. "The last victim, Sheila Montgomery, also lives in Chelsea and was walking home from a bodega a block from her apartment." Amanda pointed at the map of New York City on the wall. "Chelsea is our hotspot. All women travelled either to or through Chelsea the night they were attacked. He most likely singled them out there."

"But how would he have seen Serena Lambert if she was on the train from Greenwich to the Upper West Side?" Nick asked.

Fin flipped through the notes and smacked his fist on the table. "Serena got off the train in Chelsea because she wanted to pick up some flowers for her mother's birthday. Bodega owner round the corner from the station remembers seeing her. Perp must have seen her there and followed her back onto the train, attacked her when she reached the Upper West Side."

"So our perp likes to hunt in Chelsea," Nick said. "That's still a lot of ground to cover. These attacks cover the entire neighbourhood."

"There's something else all these women have in common," Fin said slowly. "They're all between the ages of twenty and thirty and they're all blonde."

"Don't even go there."

Amanda turned around when she heard Olivia's voice. The tall brunette stood in the squad room doorway and had overheard Fin's last comment. Something dark flickered behind her eyes as she joined the group but she was careful not to make eye contact. She leaned against one of the desks and looked at what Amanda had written down.

"I'm not sending Rollins out into Chelsea in the hope this guy will see her."

Until two days ago she would have taken the chance without even thinking about it. That was until she saw the look in Amanda's eyes when she told her what happened back in Atlanta. She didn't want the blonde experiencing another case where she felt like she could have busted a guy's balls but he got away because he chose a different target.

"You got a better idea?" Nick challenged his partner, clearly irritated that Olivia disagreed with the suggestion of sending Rollins out onto the street as a honey trap.

Amanda stared at the floor. The sound of Olivia's voice had sliced through her soul. She ached inside. She was angry, infuriated. The seconds seemed to pass slowly in which nothing was said. A quiet standoff between Nick and Olivia was that rapidly coming to a head. Amanda heaved a sigh and eventually looked up, her blue eyes unexpectedly piercing into Olivia's.

"There is no better idea, Defective Benson," she said, her voice harsh and full of venom. The sharpness with which she spoke caught the two male detectives by surprise and they stared at her. "You want this guy? Then you'll have to send me out onto the street because frankly, I'm the only chance you've got."

Amanda pushed her hands into the pockets of her slacks and walked out of the squad room, feeling three sets of eyes burn into her back. The sound of footsteps behind her betrayed that someone was following her and she felt Olivia's hand grab hold of her elbow just before she reached the elevator. She spun around, steel blue eyes blazing, and she saw how the anger caught Olivia off guard.

"Amanda, wait."

"No," she bit back. "I should have never opened up to you. I know why you don't want me go out there but let me tell you, something, Olivia; I want to go out there. Because this time I've got a chance of doing it right and not even you can do anything to change that." She shrugged herself free from Olivia's grip. "And as for everything else that happened in Atlanta…" She didn't finish her sentence and Olivia waited with baited breath. Amanda swallowed hard. "You want to pretend it didn't happen but it did. It did happen and that's something you will have to learn to live with."

The elevator doors slid open and Amanda stepped inside. She didn't turn around to look back at Olivia and the dark haired woman watched as the doors slowly closed. Her eyes fell shut once Amanda was gone and she looked back over her shoulder towards the squad room where Fin and Nick were watching her, wondering what the hell happened. She straightened her spine and strode back into the squad room.

"Rollins allright?" Nick asked and Olivia nodded.

"Yeah," she lied. "She's fine."