This is another one-shot that takes place several months after "Forgiving Rollins" in season 16.
Reviews are welcome! :)
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"Ouch, I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found
Yeah, I think that I might break
Lost myself again and I feel unsafe"
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Amanda can feel the telltale signs brewing like an incoming storm.
The pins and needles in her hands and feet, the way her heart rate begins to pick up the pace, the unseen fingers that are suddenly wrapping themselves around her throat and tightening incrementally, determined to squeeze the air from her lungs.
She mutters a string of curses under her breath and then quickly raises her glass to her lips for a large gulp of wine, hoping she can keep a lid on the symptoms and no one will notice.
Like the previous panic attacks that have been plaguing her since Charles Patton's visit to New York in January, this one has come out of the blue, sneaking up on her for no particular rhyme or reason. These all-consuming assaults are accompanied by the constant fear and frustration of never knowing when they will strike, Amanda unable to identify any actual triggers.
They are not induced by flashbacks, or someone touching her, or being in close proximity to a member of the opposite sex. The panic attacks come out of nowhere to turn any random, mundane moment completely upside down, throwing her brain and body into chaos, leaving her to pick up the pieces and try to continue on in a normal fashion when they are over, feeling hopeless and depleted.
Although her relationship with Olivia Benson is awkward at best and downright rocky at worst, a casual gathering at the older woman's apartment with the rest of their squad should not be cause for alarm. Beyond the amusement and irritation of both Amaro and Carisi vying for her attention, the two men seemingly in competition with each other, Amanda has actually been having a nice time.
Olivia's home is both beautiful and cozy, the open-concept apartment flickering with candlelight; delicious food in abundance, good wine flowing, and entertaining conversation that has steered away from the horrors of their work. It is a relaxing, low-key evening to be enjoyed; a break from the everyday grind and depravity they deal with at the precinct, and there is no logical reason for Amanda's anxiety to be heightening like she is in imminent danger.
Fin is telling a story from his early days as a cop that has the group laughing uproariously, and although Amanda has heard this particular one more times than she can count, she smiles politely and even throws in a quick chuckle of her own. The sounds rings false in her ears and she glances surreptitiously at each smiling face in their little circle, relieved that no one seems to have caught on to her mental breakdown.
Amanda is unsure how long she can keep up with this charade and knows she needs to find somewhere to hide, even if only for a few minutes. The claws of panic are swiftly tightening their grip on her, and she is aware that there isn't much time left before her labored breathing becomes audible and it is painfully obvious that something is wrong with her.
She can't bear having everyone's attention focused on her for such a negative reason again, especially after the nightmare of Patton's visit and subsequent reveal of her deepest, darkest secret. The following months had been brutal to navigate, both inside the squad room and outside of it, Amanda always quick to shut down her team members' concerns and offers to talk.
Eventually her squad had seemed to accept the fact that she wasn't budging on this topic; her private life and personal hardships were not fodder for any kind of office gossip or profound, emotional connection, and they had mostly backed off, aside from the occasional query on how she was doing. It was not that Amanda didn't appreciate her co-workers' care and compassion; she was simply desperate for everything to return to normal, before they had all begun looking at her with pity and treating her like she was one of the victims they dealt with on the job.
Her relief has been palpable lately, upon realizing she is just another member of the team again; the guys not hesitating to joke around with her now, both Amaro and Carisi flirting periodically, and Olivia seemingly unbothered with reprimanding her whenever she screws up. Amanda is terrified of tipping that precarious balance just as it has been restored, and is more determined than ever not to let on what is currently happening.
She is so zoned out of the discussion and so intent on controlling her symptoms, that Amanda doesn't realize Olivia has made a toast until everyone is raising their glasses in the air and yelling "Cheers!". She hurries to lift her glass as well, wincing when the motion causes a few drops of wine to slosh over the rim and onto her hand, the sound of clinking crystal magnified in her anxiety and ringing loudly in her ears.
Amanda is desperate for an opportunity to slip away and pull herself together before her panic attack becomes obvious, and winds up getting her chance a moment later. Carisi drops his drink on the kitchen floor, wine glass shattering instantly and dark red liquid pooling on the tiles, Fin and Amaro laughing and jeering at the clumsiness of "the new guy" while Olivia rushes to clean up.
Amanda disappears around the corner just as Carisi is apologizing profusely and Olivia is assuring him repeatedly that all is forgiven and it was just an accident. She steps into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her before realizing that she has brought her own drink in with her. She tips her head back, draining the last of the wine from her glass, and then sets it on the counter with an unsteady hand.
The panic has taken complete control of her now, and Amanda looks frantically around the small room as her vision begins to darken at the edges. She is terrified of passing out and hitting her head, causing yet another scene in front of her colleagues and another attempt by Olivia to get her into therapy. Without giving it much thought, Amanda totters over to the bathtub on legs that feel like jelly, climbing over the edge with jerky movements and settling onto the cold porcelain surface.
She folds her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around her legs, her shuddering body rocking back and forth as she wills herself to calm down. Her thoughts are spinning in wild, senseless circles and her heart is pounding so forcefully, she can scarcely draw in a breath. Time has lost all meaning as she is entirely consumed with panic, and Amanda has no idea how long she has been crouched in the tub like a child playing hide-and-seek.
She startles violently when there is a sudden knock on the door and Fin's voice can be heard from the opposite side. "Yo, Rollins, did you fall in? Some of us need to use the toilet, too!"
She parts her lips to answer, but the only noise that escapes is a strangled gasp, her feet kicking out in front of her and slamming into the other end of the tub as she unsuccessfully tries to suck in a mouthful of air.
"Amanda, are you okay?" Her partner sounds concerned now, and Amanda's anxiety ramps up a notch with the knowledge that she is incapable of getting out of this tub and exiting the room like a normal person.
She listens to the rattling of the door knob, the knocking increasing in amount and intensity, and more voices joining in with Fin's. She thinks she can pick Olivia's out of the bunch, that gentle, melodious tone rising above the others, but all she can do in response is let out a whimper of alarm and defeat.
A moment later, there is the sound of a key turning in the lock and the door swinging open, a few muffled gasps and murmurs of surprise from the hallway. Then it is mostly quiet, the crowd dispersing as multiple pairs of footsteps fade away and the door closes again.
Amanda knows she is not alone in the room anymore but doesn't even have the strength to turn her head, wondering if she will die in her boss' bathtub, sprawled in an ungainly heap. The most she can do is produce another pathetic whimper as she hears someone hurry toward her, and becomes aware of a figure kneeling next to her on the other side of the tub.
"Amanda?" She recognizes Olivia's voice, the older woman sounding unusually frightened and tentative, a careful hand coming to rest on top of her head. "What's going on? What happened? Are you ill?"
Amanda tries to speak but all that emits from her mouth is a rough squeak, and she shakes her head vehemently in return, silently pleading for Olivia to save her from this torment and make it all stop.
"Okay, I think I know what's going on here." Olivia's voice is softer now, a certain understanding evident in her tone. "I need you to slow your breathing down, Amanda. Can you do that?"
She shakes her head frantically again, releasing a distressed cough in reply, her hands flying to her throat to join the phantom pair that are slowly choking the life out of her. Amanda turns her imploring gaze to the brunette, reaching a shaking arm toward her, and finally manages to croak out a mangled "Help me."
"Oh, sweetheart, I've got you. You're going to be okay. Can you slide forward for me?"
Amanda is puzzled but tries to do as Olivia asks, maneuvering herself awkwardly into the middle of the bathtub, willing to try anything. She is vaguely aware of Olivia climbing over the side and settling in behind her as she fights for air, a gentle pair of hands coming to rest on her back.
"You're going to be okay," Olivia repeats firmly, those soft hands smoothing in slow circles around her back before perching on her shoulders. "Can you try to breathe with me?"
"Nooo," Amanda whines thinly, her head whipping from side to side, long blonde hair flying. "Can't...breathe...at all!"
"Yes, you can," Olivia insists calmly, and Amanda feels a brief spark of anger pierce through the panic, at not being taken seriously.
The hands on her shoulders tighten somewhat, thumbs digging lightly into muscles that are coiled like springs. "It's a panic attack, Amanda. You're not going to stop breathing. You're not going to die. You're actually getting too much air from hyperventilating."
Tears of terror and frustration well up in Amanda's eyes and come streaming down her cheeks, her voice erupting in a stronger wail now, disbelieving and begging for her life. "Olivia, please! Help me!"
All thoughts and concerns of embarrassing herself in front of her squad and having to deal with their probing questions and sympathetic looks, have vacated her mind now. Amanda could not care less what the guys think of her or what her boss thinks of her, her brain zeroed in on one thing only - making this agony stop.
It takes her a moment to realize what is happening in her fog of anguish and anxiety, Olivia's legs sliding beside hers, strong arms winding around her stomach and pulling her back into a soft chest, Amanda cradled in the taller woman's embrace.
"Okay, we're going to breathe together now." Olivia's serene voice is right at her ear, and Amanda feels her take an exaggerated breath behind her. "Come on, you can do it, honey."
She attempts to draw in a breath, a wheeze rattling in her chest and a sob escaping her throat. Her fingernails scrabble at the hands that are joined around her middle, one finger looping around Olivia's thumb and squeezing hard. Olivia links their fingers together and squeezes back, urging Amanda in a placid tone to breathe with her.
This time when Amanda struggles to take another breath, she tries to match the rise of her chest with Olivia's, and it becomes a little easier.
"That's it, good job," her boss enthuses softly, Olivia's warm breath on her neck causing a shiver, and feeling herself being gathered closer in response. "Keep going. Keep breathing with me. In and out, that's it."
Amanda's eyelids flutter shut in sheer exhaustion and she lets her head fall backward onto Olivia's shoulder as they breathe together, chests rising and falling in unison. Silent tears are still seeping out from behind her closed eyes, her shoulders shaking with the effort of holding in more sobs, and she feels Olivia's cheek pressing into her own.
"It's okay to cry, sweetheart. Don't hold it in. Just let yourself go. I know this is so hard." Olivia's voice is tender and soothing, radiating with compassion and understanding. "I sent the guys home. We're the only ones here now. You're safe with me."
A loud sob instantly rips from Amanda's mouth, echoing off the tiles, and then she is weeping in earnest, rocking forward in Olivia's embrace as the weight of her emotions seem to fold her in half. She feels Olivia's forehead resting on her back now, the other woman's arms wrapped tightly around her and Amanda cocooned between her legs.
Now that it is easier to breathe and she doesn't have to worry about impending death, Amanda cries in great, shuddering gasps, surprising herself by whirling around in Olivia's embrace and clinging desperately to her. For months, she has wanted nothing more than for Olivia to leave her alone and stop asking if she is okay and voicing concern for her mental health, and now she can't get enough of the brunette.
She clutches onto Olivia's taller frame as if someone is going to burst into the bathroom and force them apart, dragging her away from the other woman's comforting voice and touch, and leaving her to cry on her own. Olivia holds her back just as firmly, rocking them both from side to side as one hand strokes through her hair and down her back, and it finally dawns on Amanda that in all her efforts to push her squad away, she has never felt more alone than she has over the past few months.
She is overcome with a wave of remorse, for holding Olivia at arm's length for so long, and for denying herself the comfort she has so desperately needed since Patton had come to town and taken even more from her than he already had. "I'm...sorry," she whispers in a choked tone, curling herself into a ball within the circle of Olivia's legs.
"For what, honey?" The older woman's voice is soft and non-judgmental, and Amanda feels so undeserving of her care and attention.
When she doesn't answer, she feels Olivia's hands underneath her arms, lifting her into a sitting position so they can look one another in the eye. "What are you sorry for?"
"For ruining your party," Amanda hiccups through her tears, her head bowing in shame. "And for everything I've put you through since...since Patton."
"First of all, you didn't ruin anything," Olivia assures her quietly, Amanda feeling long fingers stroking through her hair and urging her to lift her head. "And is that what your panic attack is about? Patton?" There is a slight pause before she continues in a hushed, knowing tone. "You've been going through hell all this time, haven't you, sweetheart?"
A fresh round of sobs have Amanda crumpling into Olivia's chest at her acknowledgement, the other woman's arms pulling her close and holding her in a fierce embrace. "The attacks started when he left New York, and they haven't stopped," she confesses brokenly. "I don't even know why they happen. They don't really have anything to do with him. They just start randomly, out of nowhere. And they're sucking the life out of me. I can't do this anymore, Liv. It's hopeless."
Olivia simply holds her for several moments without speaking, the rocking motion resuming, and Amanda is surprised to feel a slight trembling in the comforting body nestled against her own. She gazes up at Olivia in curiosity and concern, amazed to see those big brown eyes swimming with tears.
"I'm sorry," she repeats raggedly, flooded with guilt for what she is doing to Olivia, and reaching up to lay a hand against her cheek.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, nothing at all," the brunette replies firmly, their gazes locked on each other now. "Your trauma can manifest itself in many different ways, Amanda, including panic attacks. And there are so many things that can exacerbate the symptoms, even when it seems like there's no connection."
Amanda glances at the empty wine glass on the bathroom counter, wondering if alcohol has been the culprit tonight, and chastising herself for not learning more about the possible triggers. She has just kept burying her head in the sand, hoping the panic attacks would abate on their own, but thinks she has finally reached the point of needing some outside assistance.
Ever the intuitive one, it's like Olivia is reading her mind when she replies, "I'm here for you, Amanda. For whatever you need, okay? Please know that there's no shame in asking for help."
"Thank you, Liv," Amanda whispers gratefully, and this time she is the one to pull Olivia into an embrace, finally uttering the words she has needed to say for months now, possibly even years. "I think I need some help."
"Then we'll get you some help." Olivia's voice is soft, and Amanda can hear the deep emotion simmering beneath her words. "Thank you for being honest with me. I know you're a very private person and that wasn't an easy thing to do. But Amanda, this situation isn't hopeless, okay? I know it seems that way right now, but it won't be like this forever."
Amanda dares to imagine what life could be like without this incredible weight on her shoulders every single day, and for the first time time in months, she believes her circumstances have a chance of changing for the better. She feels an overwhelming rush of gratitude for the woman she has been pushing away for so long, and finds herself at a loss for words.
"Are you okay?" Olivia whispers, as if sensing the shift in her detective's mood.
Amanda nods mutely, waiting for the familiar wave of embarrassment to wash over her, now that the anxiety has dissipated and she can fully comprehend everything that has transpired this evening. Snuggled up with her boss in the bathtub, panicking and sobbing while pouring her heart out, is certainly not how she had expected this night to go, but admits that it might have been for the best.
Amanda's arms tighten around Olivia, pleasantly surprised when the embarrassment doesn't come and the gratitude remains.
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*Song lyrics are from Sia's "Breathe Me"