Author's note: I got this idea while watching this week's episode, Rorschach. Instead of Clark Kent talking to Liv, I imagined Amanda and Olivia.

Manhattan Police Department 16th Precinct

Special Victims Unit

167 East 51'st New York, NY 10022

Point of View: Amanda Rollins

"It feels like the world's weight is pressing down on us trying to solve this case. There are so many damn indications that Nicole was raped, but no DNA. No witnesses. All evidence points to Mark as her killer; he was jealous of her free spirit and afraid she wouldn't stay with him because he wasn't into adventure like her. Mark wanted power; he wanted to control her."

"I think you're projecting, Amanda." Detective Vince Corgan's voice cuts through my rant. I glance at him, leaning against the doorway to Olivia Benson's office. His arms are crossed over his chest, and his stance indicates annoyance.

"We can't prosecute for a crime we can't prove. We're wasting our time looking into a rape angle. We have enough evidence to prosecute the murder. He'll get far more time for murder than something minor as rape."

"Rape is minor to you?" I can feel my anger burning through my veins. Rape is anything but minor. Rape damages a person's psychic. Victims experience both short and long-term psychological effects of rape."

"Well, our victim won't. She's dead, so there's that, Amanda."

"Nicole's dead, Yes, but Mindy Carlisle isn't. Neither are Julia Henderson or Andy Regal. He's a serial rapist, and if we don't prove that Nicole's attack was part of a larger pattern of rapes, he'll get away with it. There's no guarantee he will be convicted on just her murder alone. Juries are unpredictable. We need to prove intent. He intended to rape her. What Mark didn't count on was Nicole fighting back, on her not being afraid. Things went too far, and he killed her. If he walks, mark my words. Mark will strike again once men like him feel the power of raping. They don't stop."

I can feel my breath catch inside my chest as he looks at me smugly. Making my stomach churn; this isn't just about evidence or making someone pay. It's about justice for Mark's victims—something Vince could never understand.

"Amanda, you're not in SVU anymore. Our jobs aren't to catch rapists or sexual predators. Our job is to prosecute what we can win. Right now, our best case is her murder."

Vince shifts on his feet, his gaze hardening. "We don't have time for gut feelings or personal vendetta Rollins. We have to move on to our next case."

Slamming my coffee down on Olivia's desk, I spin so fast that my body is left off-balanced, causing me to grab the edge of her desk. In an instant, I can feel Olivia's hand on top of mine. "Grow up, Vince, this ain't about gut feelings. It's about experience! I worked at SVU for years. I know what sexual assault looks like, and this was sexual assault. It had nothing to do with the murder. Mark wanted dominance. He wanted his victims to be afraid of what he might do to them if they didn't comply."

"Monsters like Mark leave scars on the body and a woman's soul. I won't sit back and let this case go for headlines. I want justice for all of his past victims. I want to stop him and anyone who admires him from gaining future victims."

"No matter what you call it, Rollins, what you want is vengeance. You're still blaming yourself for what happened to Reese. Newsflash, Rollins, you can't change what happened. It's in the past. Patton will never pay for what he did to you. Because you weren't strong enough to come forward when it counted, get over it! Move on or go back to SVU because I sure as hell don't need a partner who is too damaged to do her damn job."

"Enough!" Olivia stands up so fast her chair flies back, crashing into the wall. Her heels click against the titled floor as she rushes to stand between us. "Get out, Vince. You will not come into my squad room and disrespect my unit or my best friend. You are in the wrong profession if you're only in this job for the pay and headlines. What you need to understand or don't seem to care about is that it isn't the gravity of the crime. The greatest crimes are often the ones that go unnoticed. The ones that leave scars on your soul and haunt you long after the physical scars have healed. Sometimes, the best weapon is empathy. Something you seem to lack in spades. Until you can find it, get the fuck out of my unit."

There's no messing with Olivia when she gets mad. Rolling his eyes, Vince stomps out of the office, muttering what an uptight bitch Olivia was. Both of us glance at each other as the door to the unit slams behind him. "All victims deserve closure, Amanda. I'm glad you remember that from your time here. I need coffee, how about you?" I can't find the words to answer her, so I follow her out of her office and into the breakroom at this late hour. It's empty.

"When did you confide in him about what happened in Atlanta?" "One very drunk stupid night after we closed a high profile case, the whole crew went out for drinks. I was feeling lonely because Sonny was working late. Nothing happened between us, Liv. I swear, but we ended up being the only two left after the rest of the crew went home. We shot some pool, kept drinking, and told each other personal things. It just came out. I trusted him but wanted to know if I could trust him. You know?" She nodded as I sighed, sitting at the table. "guess, I got my answer."

The silence between us feels heavy as if you could cut it with a knife. "Vince is not wrong, Amanda. This case is personal to you but has nothing to do with Patton."

"This case is about justice, Liv. Plain and simple. I am sick of rape being treated as a less than crime in every other division. Getting these women closure. Every voice deserves to be heard; You taught me that, Liv."

"Well, thanks for the compliment, Amanda, but a genuine thank you would be telling me the truth. I know you better than you know yourself. Nicole reminds you of Kim, doesn't she?" I try to steady my heart, which is racing, but taking deep breaths doesn't help me control it. "I just keep seeing Nicole's face. She looked so lost in those pictures and every video, desperate, sort of like Kim did when we were younger and when she came back to NY for the first time after she robbed me."

"Oh, and don't forget framing you for murder."

We share a deep laugh at her reminder. "Oh, Yeah, there was that part too." Olivia watches me closely. She doesn't rush me when she sees me struggling to find the words to talk. She waits patiently, sipping her coffee, promptly making a face over.

"You believe Nicole had bipolar disorder, don't you?"

I nod, amazed that she could read my mind. "If someone had just reached out to her, Liv tried to talk to her, maybe she could have gotten a proper diagnosis. She could have gotten medication and therapy. Nicole might have gotten better, gained self-confidence, and not been out late at night clubbing to get drunk enough or high enough to numb the pain. Mark would have never gotten to her."

"It's possible, Amanda, but we will never know. Will we?"

I shake my head, sighing. "Nicole was the same age Kim was when she found out she had bipolar disorder. It's the same height, and it built its eerie Liv. They have the same passion and energy. Wild and free-spirited. No family support, no money unless they stole from people because they couldn't hold down a job."

"I blame myself for what Kim went through." Olivia quickly puts her hand on top of mine. "You can't, Amanda." "How can I not, Liv? I am her big sister. It was my job to support her, but I couldn't be bothered when we were growing up because I was so focused on getting top grades and making something of myself. I never thought of what Kim was going through. So, she turned to drugs, alcohol, and sex to numb her pain."

"Amanda, you were a child yourself. It wasn't your responsibility to be her savior. Kim made a series of bad choices and paid the consequences. I see the resemblances, though, in Nicole."

"Did you see the fear in her eyes, Liv? The fear that she was alone? Not wanted by anyone. Afraid that if she fell, no one would catch her." The guilt hits me like a Mac truck. I failed Kim her entire life; I was supposed to guide, protect, love, and accept her; instead, I pushed her away out of annoyance and shame. Kim spent years out of control, scared because she was different than everyone else. She judged herself and let the shame take over, and I was so focused on my career that I never even looked. To see her signs of crying for help.

"We have to catch Mark, Liv."

"We will, Amanda, but remember that we are only human. We can't save everyone, but we will get justice for these women. I understand how horrible guilt feels, Amanda."

It's been years, and I feel awful about how I failed Simon. I wrote him off and told myself I was better off without him because he was trouble; he got our dad's genes. Even when I found out he was innocent, part of me was too scared to get to know him, so I buried myself in work. Sure, when he was in real trouble, I helped play the part of dutiful sister. In day-to-day life, though, I never reached out or attempted to get to know him. I didn't get worried when he didn't show up for lunch. I got mad. He wasted my time. I got my son's hopes up, and I got angry. I left a voicemail that I can never take back. I wonder now every day. Did he hear it? Did that message cause him to shoot up?"

"Did I cause my brother's death?"

I could see the weight of the memory pressing down on Liv, her shoulders slumping as she stared off into the distance, her face pale and strained. Her eyes were glossed over with unshed tears, and I knew she was blaming herself again like she always did when it came to Simon—sort of how I blame myself for Kim's path in life. If anyone would look in on us now, they would think Olivia and I were having a therapy session. Maybe it's what we both need. The two of us have pretty heavy baggage.

I moved closer, gently placing my hand on her back, feeling the tense muscles beneath the fabric of her jacket. I couldn't imagine the pain of losing Kim like she lost Simon, someone who had been so much a part of her, someone she couldn't save. I leaned in a little, my voice soft but firm.

"Liv," I said quietly, my thumb tracing comforting circles on her spine. "You did everything you could. You can't carry this alone. It's too heavy a price to pay. I know better than anyone. Simon was your brother, and you loved him. That's all you could've done. He didn't reach out either. That's the key difference between Simon and Kim and You and I."

I could feel her body trembling slightly under my touch, and I stayed close, letting the silence settle between us for a moment. "You've carried enough of the burden for both of you. Don't do this to yourself." My heart ached for her, but I wouldn't let her turn her grief into guilt. Not again. Even if I sounded like a hypocrite because, internally, I blame myself for everything my sister has suffered.

"Amanda, Promise me we will stay in touch. It's been too long. I miss my best friend. Seeing you fight so hard today for justice brought back all the cases we worked together on. We did all the hard work to build this friendship. I've lost too many people who I care about, and I feel like we are slipping through the cracks."

"I promise, Liv. We will make the effort. I miss this, too. Intelligence is filled with all guys, not one woman in the office."

"Amanda, are you happy there? Because it doesn't seem like you and Vince are getting along so well."

"If I am being honest, Liv. Not anymore. Ever since I told him about what happened in Atlanta, there's been a shift between us. I catch him checking me out, making snide comments about my body. Sometimes, I see him joking with other detectives, and they're glancing at me, snickering. It feels almost hostile, but I don't want them to feel empowered by running away."

"Amanda, let me remind you of something. Strength isn't just physical; it's also mental. Sometimes, the most remarkable comeback a person can have for themselves and to show everyone else that they are not defeated is by being themselves and doing what makes them happy."

"Compassion is the key to connecting with others, but having compassion for yourself connects your soul to your body. If you aren't happy, it takes a toll on you physically and mentally, which means they win. Don't let them win, Amanda. Happiness isn't something you chase; it's something you allow. Your heart belongs here, Amanda, in SVU."

"I saw the passion in your eyes when you talked about rape victims. I know that I told you to find your happiness in May, and I think you did. It may have taken you down a different road to find where you belong. Here with me and Fin. Helping to solve cases where the victims are often overlooked as not actual victims."

As I sit here, sipping my coffee, I think deeply; Olivia's words echo in my mind—"Happiness isn't something you chase; it's something you allow." I can't seem to shake them. They feel simple and profound, like a key that might unlock something I've been holding onto without knowing it. All these years I spent trying to fix things and outrun the pain and guilt, thinking I had to earn or achieve happiness as a reward. But maybe Olivia is right.

Healing isn't about fixing every little crack but learning how to live with it, embrace the mess, and find peace within it. It feels strange, almost like a relief, this idea of allowing happiness just to be, to stop fighting for it, to stop demanding that I be okay on my terms. I wonder if, by letting go of that pressure, I might finally create space to heal, to find joy in the little things again without needing them to be perfect. It's a different way of thinking, and it almost scares me—because if I let go, what if nothing changes? But then again, what if everything does? "Would it be possible to come back to SVU, Liv? Is there even a spot open for me?"

"If coming home is what you want, Amanda. I will move heaven and earth to make it happen. Is it what you want?"

"Yes, Liv. It's what I want. I miss our family, and I miss helping people. People like Nicole, Kim, and Simon are the ones society overlooks. You built something special here, and I want to be a part of that again, Liv, If you'll have me."

"We built something special, Amanda; I didn't do this alone. When Olivia wrapped her arms around me, I felt an immediate sense of warmth, like the world slowed down for a second. It's as though every worry I've been carrying melts away, and I can breathe more easily. The pressure of her embrace is comforting and grounding as if she is holding me together when I feel like I might fall apart. There's a softness to it, too, a tenderness that reminds me that I'm not alone.

My heart calms with each breath I take, syncing with hers in a quiet rhythm. Physically, it's like a cocoon, protective and safe, but emotionally, it's so much more. I feel seen, understood, and loved without needing to say a word. The simple act of being held in this way fills a space inside me I didn't even realize was empty until now.

I'm home. Home has never felt so damn good.