So it appears this story is never to going to end, lol. I thought this was going to be the final chapter, but I was wrong once again. I actually know how I want to end the story (and have known since the beginning) but just can't seem to get it to that point yet. So I won't promise that the next chapter will be the last one, but I'm pretty sure it will be.
Also, I'm sorry it has taken so long to get this update completed. The writer's block has been horrendous with this particular story, and I've re-written certain parts so many times. I've had a really tough time getting the wording right, but hopefully the next chapter will be easier to complete.
This chapter picks up right where the previous one left off. Trigger warnings for conversations about Lewis and Patton, but nothing too graphic.
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The tables have turned yet again and this time Olivia is the one falling apart.
Unlike after her nightmare, Amanda is not hesitant to comfort Olivia properly now, continuing to hold the older woman in a tight grip as she rocks their entwined bodies from side to side on the bed. She has never seen Olivia break down like this before; has never held the brunette in her arms while she has cried, and Amanda feels a certain privilege at being able to do so, along with that pervasive guilt and shame.
She can't get Olivia's words out of her head, devastated at the torture the other woman had been made to endure, and unable to stop the sickening images that are forming inside her mind and playing like a horror film she can't turn off. Amanda has to swallow hard against another wave of nausea, determined not to add to the mess that remains splattered on the floor below them.
The combination of their traumas, as well as the lengthy case and accompanying sleep deprivation has clearly taken a toll on her sergeant, Amanda's heart aching as she feels Olivia struggling to get herself under control in her embrace. Gut-wrenching sobs punctuate the air for the next several minutes, the bunk shaking with the intensity of Olivia's emotions, before the older woman's whispered, ragged voice causes her eyebrows to raise in surprise.
"Are you okay, Amanda?"
"Am I okay?" she replies in disbelief, leaning back slightly to get a look at Olivia's anguished expression, those big brown eyes bloodshot and swimming with tears. "I think I'm the one who should be asking you that question, Liv. Why are you asking me?"
"I was worried about triggering another flashback when I mentioned Lewis..." Olivia clears her throat roughly before clarifying, her gaze darting away as the shame on her features becomes evident, "...when I mentioned Lewis climbing on top of me. I'm so sorry about that. And I'm sorry for breaking down like this, especially at the precinct while we're in the middle of a case and you're having such a tough time. It's so inappropriate. It's inexcusable, really, considering I'm your sergeant."
Amanda is at a loss for words again, deeply moved by the older woman's concern for her as she slides her hands up to tenderly cup Olivia's cheeks. "You didn't trigger another flashback, Liv," she assures her softly, the pads of her thumbs stroking back and forth across damp skin in an attempt to wipe away the tears that are still flowing. "Please don't apologize for anything you're going through. You're only human, just like the rest of us, and you have emotions too. I'm so sorry for what that bastard did to you. Quite frankly, I'm surprised you've been able to hold it all in for this long."
"Yeah..." Olivia trails off again, Amanda frowning and ducking her head in an effort to meet her gaze.
"What is it?" she prompts gently as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her sergeant's ear, feeling closer to Olivia than ever before and wishing it was for a different reason.
"I've slipped up a few times." Olivia's voice is hushed and ringing with remorse, like she is confessing to a crime. "I haven't always been able to hold it together."
"Well, that's understandable, Liv. You've been through hell. It's okay to slip up once in awhile."
"Not like this."
"What do you mean?" Amanda is wary of the brunette's ominous tone and tries to catch her eye again, but Olivia is resolute in avoiding her gaze.
"I pulled a gun on Brian."
Amanda stiffens instantly at the mention of Cassidy and then wills herself to relax, not wanting Olivia to feel the increased tension in her body. She knows that it's ridiculous to be jealous of Olivia's relationship with Brian Cassidy when she had been fooling around with Nick on a semi-regular basis up until recently, and there is absolutely nothing between Olivia and herself that might suggest anything of a romantic nature.
Knowledge and feelings are two separate things, however, and as much as Amanda tries to push it down, the jealousy erupts like a volcano, her jaw clenching tightly and her heart rate spiking as she struggles to remain calm. This time the guilt and shame are for another reason entirely, Amanda despising herself for being shallow and self-centered enough to allow the jealousy to take over while Olivia is having such a rough time in the aftermath of her abduction.
"That's awful, Liv. I'm sorry," she finally whispers, feathering her fingers through thick chestnut locks in an attempt to bring further comfort to the older woman, furious that she has let her envy override her concern. "That must have been terrifying for you. Did you think he was Lewis?"
Amanda is all too familiar with this scenario, on constant guard for Charles Patton even after moving to New York and knowing he was nowhere near her; that she had left him hundreds of miles behind in Atlanta, busy with his job and family, and it was highly unlikely he had followed her or would just show up out of the blue. Despite this awareness, it had taken her a long time to feel somewhat safe and comfortable in her new home, particularly at night with shadows dancing eerily on the walls and a disconcerting sense that she wasn't alone.
Olivia nods mutely, her eyes remaining downcast as she worries her lower lip with her teeth. "Yes, I did. I know it's stupid, though. I know it's not logical."
"It doesn't have to be," Amanda says kindly, determined to ignore that persistently uneasy sensation of her former deputy chief's presence in the room. "I think trauma screws with our brain so we're always on alert for the person who hurt us."
"Is that what you go through?" Olivia asks softly, a smile quirking the corner of Amanda's mouth at the realization that no matter how hard she tries, the sergeant will repeatedly steer the conversation back to her detective's trauma instead of her own.
"Yes," Amanda admits reluctantly, blowing out an unsteady breath as her heart rate quickens again, deciding to be honest with Olivia about certain aspects of her ordeal with Patton, since the other woman is doing the same with her.
"I can keep asking what his name is but I'm guessing you're not going to tell me, are you?" Olivia's voice is quiet and non-judgmental, but Amanda can detect that lingering sense of urgency beneath.
"I don't know if I can," she replies hesitantly, that ever-present fear of retribution heightening to an even greater degree the longer they talk about it. "You don't know what will happen to me if I do."
That sharp gaze is locked on hers again and it's obvious that Olivia is thoroughly focused on her now, William Lewis apparently fading into the background for the time being. "What do you mean? What do you think will happen to you?" The questions are followed by a lengthy pause, Amanda's body tensing again as she braces herself for what is coming, sensing the undesirable direction this discussion is heading in and not the least bit surprised at Olivia's next inquiry.
"Was he a superior officer?"
Suddenly choked with panic once more, Amanda tries to pull away from their cozy entanglement on the bed, aware that her dramatic reactions are probably making it easier for Olivia to figure out who the perpetrator is. If the brunette becomes fixated on the idea that it was a higher-ranking officer in Atlanta who had committed the offense, the limited number of people on that list will no doubt make it fairly simple to come to the right conclusion.
"Amanda, calm down, honey. It's okay, you're safe here. We're just talking, that's all. Nothing else has to happen right now."
"I don't want to talk about me," Amanda answers firmly as she settles back down in Olivia's embrace, torn between staying on the bed and returning to the squad room. "I want to talk about what you went through, Liv. That's what our conversation was about in first place. I just wanted to help you after your nightmare."
"I'm dealing with it," Olivia insists, although the slight tremble in her tone suggests otherwise. "I'm fine."
"Well, clearly you're not fine if you pulled a gun on your boyfriend," Amanda snaps in response, horrified as her eyes unexpectedly well with tears again and wincing as her sergeant flinches beside her.
"What are you so angry about?" Olivia asks softly, Amanda feeling tender fingers resting beneath her chin as the other woman tries to redirect her gaze so they are looking at one another.
"I'm not angry," Amanda protests as she stares stubbornly down at the faded quilt, cringing when her voice breaks and turning her head away as the tears spill down her cheeks. She can't remember ever crying this much in her life, including the night Patton had hurt her, when she had curled up on the shower floor and sobbed brokenly afterwards, and the embarrassment is nearly enough to have to her fleeing from the cribs.
"Well, you could have fooled me."
"I just want you to be okay," Amanda attempts to explain through her tears, unable to pinpoint precisely why she feels so emotional and out of control, and despising every single second of it. "I hate that you've had to suffer so much."
"Are you sure that's all it is?" Olivia prods gently, Amanda's eyelids fluttering closed when the other woman begins wiping her tears away with delicate movements and wishing her touch didn't feel so good.
"I also hate that I was the cause of it."
"Amanda, we've been through this, honey. It's not your fault. The fault lies purely with William Lewis and no one else. You've got to stop blaming yourself, okay?"
Amanda nods wordlessly, choosing not to argue even though she knows the blame lies directly on her shoulders and Olivia is likely just saying that to make her feel better.
"So you're not much of a Brian Cassidy fan, are you?" Olivia asks in a wry voice, Amanda unable to stop the stiffening of her limbs this time, shocked at the unexpected question.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I am a detective," Olivia chuckles lightly. "And I'm good at reading people. But I think it's pretty obvious that you don't like him and this conversation is bothering you."
"Yeah, okay? So, what?" Amanda challenges with an arched brow, feeling distinctly uncomfortable now. "So what if I don't like him? Why does it matter? What does that have to do with anything?"
"I don't know." Olivia's tone and expression match her own now, neither of them backing down. "You tell me."
"Liv, I think I need to get back to work," Amanda sighs after a prolonged, awkward pause ensues and she is just about at the end of her rope with this interaction in general, her sanity fraying rapidly.
"Actually, you need to sleep," Olivia corrects firmly. "You haven't had a chance to rest yet and it's your turn. I'm the one who should be getting back to work, if you think you're okay to be alone."
Amanda can't help the anger that is rising again, unable to regulate her volatile emotions and barely holding in a snarl when she responds. "Of course I'm okay to be alone. It's not like I need a damn baby-sitter."
Her actions suggest otherwise as the tears keep running in rivulets down her face, Amanda utterly mortified at the childish behavior she is exhibiting in front of her superior. She can feel the older woman's gaze on her as she continues to avert her eyes, those perceptive brown orbs practically burning a hole right through her features with the strength of her stare.
When the mortification becomes too much to bear, Amanda pulls away from their embrace but can't muster up the energy to vacate the bed, sitting hunched over and miserable on the rumpled sheets. She feels a tender hand stroking through her hair before sweeping across her shoulders and down her back until Olivia is rubbing soft circles into her shirt, Amanda's tight muscles unclenching bit by bit. She practically melts into a puddle on the mattress when soothing fingernails begin tracing figure eights along her back, her eyelids drooping heavily and reminding her that she does indeed have to get some sleep.
"You know, I'm noticing a pattern here, Liv," Amanda finally murmurs in an effort to break the strained silence that has fallen over the bunks. "You keep saying you should go back to work and then you don't actually leave."
"I'm not sure if I want to leave you here by yourself." Olivia sounds somewhat tentative when she speaks now, as if eager to avoid another argument.
"And I told you that I don't need a baby-sitter," Amanda reminds her wearily, the vehemence draining from her voice with the exhaustion that is overtaking her underfed and sleep-deprived body, feeling more disarmed the longer Olivia rubs her back.
"I don't think you need a baby-sitter, honey." Olivia's voice remains quiet, adopting the same tone she uses with the victims they encounter on the job and Amanda trying to tamp down her annoyance at being spoken to this way. "But I do think you need someone to talk to. Someone who cares and wants the best for you. I think you have a lot going on in your life right now."
"What do you mean?" That uneasiness is ramping up again, along with a hint of curiosity.
"Well, it seems like you're not much of a fan of Nick's at the moment, either."
It takes every ounce of residual control not to react to this statement, Amanda schooling her features into a neutral expression. "How so?" she answers as casually as possible, careful to keep her eyes fixed on the quilt.
"Well, I couldn't help but notice the way he was treating you earlier," Olivia comments with a concerned softness "I know it upset you, Amanda. It upset me too. If he's bothering you, I can have a chat with him."
"I can handle it," Amanda assures her with a flippant wave of her hand. "It's not that I don't appreciate the offer but I don't need you to fight my battles for me, Liv." She gives a humorless laugh, swallowing against the lump in her throat. "I'm kinda used to men treating me like trash, you know? It's fine. I bring it on myself, anyway. I deserve it."
"It's not fine, Amanda!" Olivia sounds angry herself now, Amanda recoiling slightly at her swift change of demeanor. "Why do you think everything is your fault and you deserve to be treated so disrespectfully? You deserve so much more, sweetheart. I wish you could be a little kinder to yourself. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."
"Oh?" Amanda's curiosity is getting the better of her now, sneaking a glance at the other woman and finding that steady gaze still trained on her. "And how is that?"
"As someone who is strong and courageous; someone who is intelligent and compassionate." There is no hesitation at all when Olivia answers, the words flowing with a passion that has Amanda's eyebrows raising high and her heart pounding furiously. "As someone who deserves love and respect."
Amanda is stunned by this admission, refraining from mentioning that she only wants the love of the person sitting next to her and couldn't care less about anyone else. "Thank you, Liv," she mumbles shyly, unsure of what to say.
"Why do you think you bring these things on yourself?" Olivia asks gently.
"I always initiate them," Amanda whispers in shame. "And then I regret it and want to stop, but by then it's too late. They either take things too far, like what happened in Atlanta, or they end up hating me."
"Honey, you know it doesn't matter if you initiate them. It's okay to stop whenever you want. And I don't think you would say the same things to another survivor that you say about yourself."
Amanda bows her head and shrugs, fiddling with a thread on one of the blankets as she chews on the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood.
"I know it's difficult for you to talk about what happened in Atlanta, but what you said about being hated...were you talking about Nick?"
Amanda freezes and then nods slowly, uncertain of how much more to reveal as a gang of butterflies seem to take flight in her stomach, aware that they are tiptoeing into potentially dangerous topics of conversation.
"Honey, I've known about you and Nick for awhile now," Olivia replies quietly with no trace of judgment in her tone, stroking her hair again. "Please don't take offence to what I'm about to say, but you're not quite as discreet as you think you are."
Amanda blushes deeply and begins tripping over her words in an attempt to explain, unsure why she's falling all over herself to do this, since Olivia is with Brian and she is nothing more than her subordinate. "It didn't mean anything, Liv. I tend to do this...just get lost in the physical aspect of things. It's an outlet for me. I get bored and restless and sometimes I need..." she chokes over the word, despite her profession, "sex...to be something that's not traumatic. I need it to be light and fun. And that's how it was with Nick." She pauses and sighs heavily, her shoulders drooping. "Until it wasn't."
"I get that," Olivia answers understandingly, and once again it sounds as if she's about to confess to some kind of transgression. "And I've done that before too. Sometimes you just need that release. I think I'm the opposite now, though. I can't...I haven't..."
Now she is the one trailing off and Amanda finally looks at her fully, surprised to see the dark blush return to her face and hear the obvious distress in her voice.
"You haven't been able to...? With Cassidy?"
Olivia nods wordlessly, Amanda reaching out to take her hand and give it a comforting squeeze, feeling terrible for what Olivia is going through but acknowledging the sense of relief that resides alongside her other emotions. She is in disbelief that she's sitting here with her sergeant, haltingly discussing their sex lives as if they are friends, and like they haven't spent the majority of the past couple of years at each other's throats or completely avoiding one another.
Amanda can't help but wonder if they would actually be more comfortable with each other when it comes to the aspect of intimacy; daring to imagine what it would be like to bring love and support and pleasure to one another without the fear of being hurt, or hooking up merely as a means of distraction. Her imagination begins to run wild as she pictures the possibility of sex becoming a truly enjoyable act, each of them being exactly what the other needs, and wanting so desperately to be the one that Olivia feels safe and happy with.
That inappropriate urge to lean over and kiss Olivia is ramping up again, Amanda feeling so close to the older woman as the attraction and security and comfort tangle in a jumbled and confusing knot. She bites her lip nervously, trying to push the feeling down and ignore it, reminding herself that not only is she at her place of work with her superior officer, but she has also recently vomited, the disgusting mess still waiting to be cleaned up. She is a complete disaster, both physically and emotionally, and has no business whatsoever even thinking such a thing let alone acting on it, Amanda needing to put the idea out of her mind right now.
The mixture of reasons to put a halt to this line of thinking has the fantasies in her head slowing to a crawl, but she can't help noticing how intently Olivia is looking at her now, neither of them speaking as Amanda stares right back instead of glancing away. The tension in the cribs is so thick she can barely draw in a breath, once again feeling torn between fleeing the room and staying put.
Amanda knows they can't keep sitting here together, alternating between awkward chats and uncomfortable quiet; that they need to either get back to work or get some sleep. And the longer they sit here, the higher the risk of Fin or Nick or someone else barging back into the room to interrupt this strange bonding session.
Amanda swallows hard as they continue to gaze at each other, blue eyes locked unwaveringly onto brown as her heart pounds furiously into her rib cage and sweat beads on her upper lip. Olivia's hand has stilled on her back but continues to rest there, and they are motionless next to one another, twin statues of trauma and indecision.
"I'm sorry you haven't been able to be with Cassidy in that way," Amanda finally says softly. "I wish I could be that person for you, Liv."
There is dead silence for a moment, the air crackling with apprehension and the distant noise rising up from the squad room as it dawns on Amanda what she has just offered. The words have come out all wrong, completely different than what she had meant to say, unintentionally putting a voice to her most private thoughts once again. It feels like a replay of earlier, when she had blurted out the wrong thing after Olivia's nightmare, but this time it is so much worse.
"What do you mean?" Olivia's voice has that same unreadable tone as it did previously, her expression just as tough to decipher.
"I meant that I wish I could make things easier for you," Amanda backpedals in a rush, worried that she might throw up again in her panic and wondering why she keeps behaving in such a chaotic way with Olivia. "I wish you didn't have to go through this."
She longs to explain everything in a rational, coherent manner but knows she will only start rambling and screwing this situation up even more, snapping her lips shut before she can saying anything to further damage her career and burgeoning friendship with Olivia. The words are out there and it's obvious that Olivia knows exactly what she had meant, the damage clearly done and most likely irreparable.
Amanda is appalled that this is her response to Olivia finally confiding in her about the pain she has suffered and opening up about personal aspects of her life that she never thought she would be privy to. She is desperate to apologize for speaking in such an unacceptable manner to her sergeant; for being so damn insensitive in Olivia's time of need, but she can't seem to get the words out. Nothing Amanda can say now will erase what has already been said, and this time the decision to flee the room is an easy one as she scrambles from the bed and stumbles to the door.
Practically tripping over her own feet in her haste to get away and put some distance between them, Amanda doesn't stop when she hears Olivia calling her name, ignoring the older woman's pleas to come back as her vision blurs with tears of remorse and humiliation.