In this chapter, Olivia is the one who travels to West Virginia with Amanda, instead of Carisi. There are trigger warnings for discussions of rape and mentions of William Lewis and Charles Patton, so please be aware of that before reading any further.

The kids and Frannie don't exist in this chapter.

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Title: The Quilt

Genre: Hurt/comfort/angst

Rating: T

Season: 19

Episode: 8 (Intent)

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Olivia's eyelids fly open, wondering why she is awake.

It takes a split second to go from pleasantly sedate and mildly confused to the heart-pounding, stomach-churning realization that not only is she no longer alone in her bed, she is also being pinned quite forcefully to the mattress. Someone's leg is thrown over her hip and there is a slender but strong arm wrapped around her stomach, the other person grasping onto her body firmly and breathing with heavy puffs of air into her ear.

Despite the implausibility of this scenario, Olivia's first thought is of William Lewis, before sheepishly reminding herself that not only is he dead but she is in a motel room in West Virginia as part of the case they are currently working on.

With an immense swell of relief, she realizes that it's just Amanda; her road trip companion having migrated across the room to her bed from her own at some point during the night. The relief quickly turns to bewilderment as she wonders why her detective had decided to crawl into bed with her and is presently clinging to her body like a baby koala clings to its mother.

"Amanda," she whispers urgently, patting the hand that is clutching tightly onto the front of her shirt. "Wake up."

"Hmm? What's going on?" The voice behind her is groggy with sleep and sounds as befuddled as she feels.

"I don't know, you tell me," Olivia answers gently. "Is there a reason we're sharing my bed and you're stuck to me like glue?"

She listens to the sharp intake of breath in response and feels the warm weight of the smaller woman disappear as Amanda instantly detaches herself, the mattress shifting as she rolls away. When Olivia turns over, she is met with the sight of Amanda's quivering back, the blonde detective angled away from her and curled up on her side, hovering at the edge of the bed like she is about to fall off.

"I'm sorry, Liv." The meek reply sounds nothing like the confident woman Olivia has come to know pretty well after working together for the past several years, her worry and confusion heightening at the skittish quality of her tone. "I didn't mean to scare you or violate your personal space."

"You don't have to be sorry," Olivia says softly, taking a chance and reaching out far enough for her fingertips to graze the flannel material of Amanda's pajama top. "It's okay. Just tell me what's going on."

The ensuing silences stretches out for so long that she begins to think an explanation is not forthcoming, when that uncharacteristically timid voice finally speaks again. "I thought you could keep me safe."

"Safe? From what, honey?" Olivia frowns deeply, a disturbing thought occurring to her. "Or should I say from who?"

Amanda is quiet for a moment, and Olivia can tell she is gathering her courage for what she is about to say. "I had a nightmare and I thought I was in a different motel room when I woke up. Then I saw you sleeping over here and it didn't make sense that we were both in the same place, that you were here too, but I knew you could keep me safe. So I climbed in here with you and then fell asleep again before I could go back to my own bed. I didn't mean to stay with you for so long, I swear. I was just...scared."

"Amanda, is being in a motel triggering for you?" Olivia asks as carefully as possible after a weighty pause, wanting the detective to continue opening up to her and not start shutting down.

When her inquiry is met with silence yet again, her hand falls away, hesitant to keep touching the younger woman and risk triggering her further, even though Amanda had been the one to initiate the physical contact in the first place. Her frown deepens when she hears the faint whimper of displeasure in response, unsure if the sound is due to the loss of her touch or the situation in general.

Olivia tentatively replaces her hand and feels Amanda's tense muscles gradually relax under her palm. She rubs in slow, soothing circles for a few minutes, choosing not to question her further and instead giving the other woman time to gather her thoughts as she tries to impart some comfort.

There is guilt simmering beneath her concern, Olivia chastising herself for not picking up on any agitation or anxiety from Amanda during their evening together at the bar. The blonde detective had been in a seemingly great mood, chatting and laughing easily while they had shared a pitcher of beer, the very picture of cheerful and content as they had bonded in their down time.

In fact, Olivia can't remember a time where she had enjoyed Amanda's company so much, her brow furrowing again as she mentally rewinds through the past several hours and tries to pick out anything she might have missed – a word, a gesture, a facial expression, something to hint at how Amanda was actually feeling. There is nothing that immediately jumps out at her as she wracks her brain for anything off about the younger woman's behavior, her guilt amplifying when she realizes that it hasn't even occurred to her that staying in a motel might be upsetting for Amanda.

She opens her mouth to apologize for not being able to foresee this potentially traumatizing situation; for being such an unobservant boss and friend, when Amanda suddenly slips quietly over the side of the bed and out of sight.

"Hey, sweetheart, what's happening? Where are you going?" Olivia tries to keep the alarm out of her voice as she scoots through the rumpled sheets and peers over the edge of the mattress, afraid Amanda is going to bolt out of the room in her frightened and disoriented state.

To her relief, the younger woman stays put, making no effort to get off the floor as she curls her body into a tiny ball of quaking limbs, her knees pulled to her chest and her head hanging low, delicate features obscured by a curtain of long hair. Olivia's heart clenches as she gazes down at the huddled form of her detective, overcome with the urge to leap off the bed and gather Amanda into her embrace, lifting her from the ground and carrying her out of the motel and away from the haunting memories that are plaguing her.

Rather than responding with such drastic actions, she talks softly to Amanda as she slowly reaches down, making sure the other woman knows what she is doing and won't be startled by her touch. Olivia lays a tender hand on the top of her head, resting her palm amid tangles of golden tresses and scratching her fingernails gently against her scalp.

"It's okay if you want to come back into the bed," she assures her calmly, feeling Amanda trembling beneath her touch. "I'm glad you feel safe with me. You don't have to be embarrassed or ashamed, honey. I'm sorry it didn't occur to me that staying in a motel might be tough for you."

"You don't have to apologize," Amanda finally mumbles after another lengthy silence. "It didn't occur to me either. I didn't even think about it, actually. But then I had that dream and I..." She trails off, her voice choked with emotion. "It all came flooding back and I can't believe I didn't realize..."

"Realize what?" Olivia prods kindly, continuing to stroke her hand through the silky blonde strands as her heart pounds against her ribcage.

"That this room is practically identical to...to where it happened." Olivia has to lean forward as she strains to hear what Amanda is saying, the other woman practically inaudible now. "Actually, I think the quilts on these beds are exactly the same as the one..."

When Amanda trails off again, Olivia knows she is too overwhelmed with anguish to continue, her heart aching as she listens to the agonized moan sound beneath her. She can't take it anymore, hastily untangling herself from the covers and sliding off the bed so she is perched on the floor in front of Amanda's slumped form, observing her detective's acute distress with empathy and compassion.

"Come here, sweetheart," she whispers gently, holding out her arms in invitation and waiting for Amanda to come to her, if that's what she chooses to do, but preparing to be rebuffed as Amanda grapples with the depth of her trauma.

Without hesitation, the smaller woman launches herself against her chest as she dissolves into tears, Olivia surprised but grateful at her willingness to be held in this rare emotional moment, her arms closing protectively around her. She rocks her devastated detective back and forth in a soothing motion as Amanda weeps into her shoulder, Olivia's pajama shirt quickly becoming wet with tears.

"I'm sorry it's so hard for you to be here," she murmurs into her ear, tightening her grip on the quivering figure in her lap when Amanda's cries strengthen in intensity. "What can I do to make things easier for you? We can hide the quilts, if you want; put them in the bathroom and shut the door, so you don't have to see them."

"But I'll still know they're in there," Amanda sobs brokenly, Olivia blinking back her own tears now as she struggles to maintain control of herself. "God, I feel so stupid, bawling like a baby because of the pattern on a damn quilt. You must think I'm utterly pathetic."

"I don't think that at all," Olivia chastises her softly, giving her a gentle shake. "I can imagine how terrifying it must have been to be trapped in that motel room with your former deputy chief."

She knows all too well what it's like to be held against her will and subjected to such pain and degradation, and has to work hard to stop William Lewis from infiltrating her thoughts and taking over her brain, adamant on keeping the focus on Amanda's torment instead of her own.

"The whole time it was happening, I tried to concentrate on how that cheap, scratchy quilt felt against the bare skin of my back," Amanda mutters shakily, finally looking up at Olivia with wide blue eyes that are swimming in tears. "If I was only paying attention to that part of it; on how uncomfortable the quilt was, on how ugly the pattern was whenever I caught a glimpse of it, then..." She coughs roughly and makes a slight gagging sound as if she might be sick, putting a hand over her mouth before continuing. "Then I wasn't paying attention to how the rest of it felt...how rough he was, how much it hurt, how I was drowning in humiliation."

"Oh, sweetheart." Olivia raises a shuddering hand to cup Amanda's cheek, catching a stray tear with the pad of her thumb and swiping it away tenderly. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

Amanda has never been so open and honest about her horrific experience with Charles Patton in Atlanta, and as much as Olivia's heart is breaking for what her detective had endured in the past and what she is enduring now, she is glad that Amanda isn't keeping everything all bottled up inside like she usually does. She hopes the blonde will keep confiding in her and is gratified when Amanda nods in response to her comment and gives her a faint smile, her lips parting to keep speaking as a blush rises on her cheeks.

"I wanted to stay in the bed with you, even though I knew how inappropriate it was, because the feeling of your body against mine was so much better than his." Amanda is looking away from her now, staring raptly at the floor with obvious embarrassment and an apparent fear of rejection. "I knew you wouldn't hurt me like he did...but then I couldn't stop thinking about the quilt and I needed to get away from it; I couldn't stand having the material touching me..."

"It's not inappropriate," Olivia assures her softly, placing a finger under Amanda's chin and gently turning her face so they are gazing at each other eye to eye again. "I don't mind if you want to share my bed for the rest of the night. And I don't mind holding you. I'm glad you feel safe with me, honey. And we can get rid of the quilts entirely, if that will make it easier for you. I'll just gather them up and toss them outside."

This pronouncement earns her a watery chuckle from Amanda, who appears both appreciative and troubled at the idea of her boss vandalizing someone else's property on her behalf. "I'm not sure the owners of the motel would be very happy about their bedding being thrown out on the sidewalk like trash."

"Well, I don't really care," Olivia replies lightly, shrugging and giving Amanda a tender smile in response. "All I care about right now is your safety and comfort, and if I have to deal with the owners in the morning, then I will. It's no problem. I'll do anything to make you feel better."

Amanda stares intently at her for a moment before another round of tears overflow down her cheeks, Olivia gasping in surprise as the smaller woman winds her arms around her ribs and squeezes her in a fierce embrace, her voice choked with gratitude when she speaks. "Thank you so much, Liv."

Olivia returns the embrace with equal vehemence as she allows her own tears to fall, vowing to watch over and protect Amanda for the rest of the night. She is determined to banish her detective's demons, keeping Amanda cocooned in the security of her arms and making sure her slumber will only bring peace from now on.