Just a reminder that Amanda is very childlike for part of this story due to the pain meds she's taking (particularly in this chapter) but she won't be like this the entire time. Also, there are trigger warnings for mentions of alcohol abuse in this chapter.
Thank you to the lovely guest who leaves such kind comments! :)
It is well after midnight by the time Amanda has been settled into her own bed, tucked snugly underneath the covers and everything she could possibly need within easy reach on the nightstand next to her; a small bottle of painkillers, a large glass of water, a package of soda crackers, her cell phone, and reading material. Olivia is perched on a kitchen chair beside her colleague's bed, keeping a close watch over Amanda while she drifts in and out of a restless slumber and mumbles incoherently under her breath from time to time, the bizarre words that are uttered mingling in with the occasional soft moan of pain.
Despite being so adamant in the emergency room about maintaining her independence once arriving home, Amanda has been very insistent that Olivia not leave her side upon returning to her apartment; begging her over and over again to share the bed and keep her company, instead of sleeping on the couch like Olivia had originally planned. She had compromised, her heart aching at the uncharacteristically vulnerable pleas from the detective and choosing to drag a heavy kitchen chair into the bedroom to sit on, not wanting to risk being in such tight quarters with someone so injured, and possibly rolling over in her sleep and hurting the smaller woman even further.
Olivia shifts awkwardly in the hard wooden chair as she scrolls quickly through a document on her laptop, her back already beginning to cramp from the uncomfortable position. She makes sure the light on the computer is turned down as low as it can go while still being able to see the screen properly, so as not to disturb Amanda in her uneasy slumber.
The man who had so viciously attacked her colleague is now in a coma and on life-support at the hospital after barely surviving major surgery, and she is waiting for an update on his condition. The situation is not looking good, as his self-inflicted knife wounds had been too deep, the weapon nicking more than one vital organ in the process of his frenzy, causing severe hemorrhaging and damage, and Olivia is expecting to receive a phone call at any moment to inform her that he has succumbed to his injuries.
He has been their prime suspect in a series of brutal beatings and rapes committed on several teenage girls in the area, as well as causing grievous bodily harm to her colleague, and although she would never admit it aloud, Olivia can't bring herself to feel sorry that he may lose his life. She has been unable to wipe the images and sounds from her mind of the chaotic violence she had witnessed several hours before; Amanda lying defenseless on the ground while the much larger man had sat astride her body, striking out again and again with the knife, his intent to commit murder quite obvious as the high pitched shrieks had poured unabating from his mouth, completely ignoring their shouts to drop the weapon.
It had been quite difficult to keep Amanda comfortable on the way home from the hospital, getting her situated in the backseat with Olivia while Fin drove, the plan being to stop at Olivia's apartment to pick up everything she would need for an overnight stay before Fin dropped them off at Amanda's place for the rest of the night. After shifting around and trying to find the best position possible, Amanda had ended up flat on her back with her head in Olivia's lap and her legs folded up awkwardly against the door, the stab wound on her stomach proving too painful to put a seat belt over.
Fin had retrieved an old blanket from the trunk to cover his partner with, guarding against the chill of the late winter air and the constant shivers that the medication had seemed to produce. Olivia had stroked a soothing hand repeatedly through Amanda's mess of blonde hair, lulling the younger woman into a light sleep but Amanda waking up again as soon as they had reached Olivia's apartment.
The detective had been oddly upset about her brief separation from Olivia, grasping groggily onto her thighs as she had tried to ease herself out from beneath the smaller woman as gently as possible before vacating the vehicle. Amanda had apparently been convinced that she was being abandoned for the remainder of the night and that when Olivia went upstairs to her apartment, she was never coming back.
Fin had gotten into the backseat to soothe his partner while Olivia raced up to her unit, trying to pack everything as quickly as she could in order to return in a timely fashion to her suddenly very needy and clingy subordinate. She had resumed her previous position upon re-entering the car, Amanda's relief palpable as she had laid her head back down on Olivia's lap, lacing their fingers together and holding their joined hands beneath her cheek, cold skin resting lightly against Olivia's fist as she had drifted back into a troubled slumber.
When they had reached Amanda's building, it had taken the combined efforts of both Olivia and Fin to get their teammate safely upstairs, Amanda still half asleep and the injuries and medication clearly taking a heavy toll on her. The blonde detective had barely been able to remain upright in the elevator, Olivia and Fin standing on either side of her shaking body, each with a firm arm hooked around one of Amanda's elbows to keep the swaying woman on her feet. Amanda had been giggling uncontrollably again, repeatedly referring to her colleagues as 'Livvy' and 'Finny' and Olivia had been overcome with a strangely domestic, familial feeling, as if she and Fin were taking care of their unruly toddler or drunk teenager.
Before leaving the hospital, a nurse had helped Amanda change from her gown into some borrowed scrubs, as the younger woman's clothing had been left shredded and bloodied by their suspect's knife attack, and had been taken in for evidence. Olivia had chosen to leave Amanda in the scrubs instead of suggesting that she change into a pair of pajamas, as it had seemed unnecessary to put her colleague through even more pain than she was already experiencing, the scrubs appearing to be a comfortable alternative for the more traditional sleepwear.
"Livvy?" a tiny voice suddenly says, breaking the silence in the dim room and causing Olivia to jolt in her chair.
She sighs and rolls her eyes, her lip quirking up at the corner in a slight smile as her gaze immediately lifts from the computer screen to focus on her detective, Amanda now awake and regarding her with heavy-lidded blue eyes. "Yes, Mandy?" she replies teasingly, one brow arching in question.
"I'm lonely," Amanda replies with a hint of a whine and a pout, her voice sounding even smaller now.
Olivia refrains from rolling her eyes again and tries to keep the grin on her face from widening, as she knows Amanda has a good view of her expression in the glow from the laptop screen and doesn't want the younger woman to think she is being made fun of. "How can you be lonely? We're in the same room."
"But not in the same bed," Amanda points out, gesturing to the mattress with a shaky hand.
"That's because there's only one bed in this room," Olivia responds reasonably, both eyebrows raised in warning now.
"Well, why aren't you in it with me?" Amanda complains with a noticeable wobble in her tone, her chin trembling dangerously. "You can't sleep in a chair."
"I can and I will," Olivia answers firmly, neglecting to mention that she is actually something an expert at this sort of thing and it's far from the first time that she has had to take up this kind of position during the night to watch over someone while they were ill or injured; sometimes due to the person's own actions. She had spent many a night in her youth slumped over in a chair next to her alcoholic mother's bed, listening to the older woman's ragged breathing and loud snoring, terrified that she was going to choke on her own vomit and die during her booze-induced slumber and Olivia would be left all alone to fend for herself.
"I want you to sleep with me," Amanda says shyly, patting the sheets beside her in an inviting manner.
"Amanda, we've already talked about this," Olivia reminds the younger woman as gently as she can. "I don't want to aggravate your injuries and risk hurting you any more than you already are."
"Please, Livvy," Amanda responds pitifully, sounding close to tears now. "I'm cold and scared and everything hurts."
"Which is exactly why we shouldn't be sleeping in the same bed," Olivia argues softly, her heart aching at the other woman's drug-induced revelations, Amanda usually loathe to admit that she is anything but absolutely fine. "You can't have anymore painkillers just yet but I can get you another blanket, if you want." She leans closer to the bed, placing a tender hand over Amanda's and giving it a light squeeze. "Why are you scared, honey?"
"When I was a little girl, I used to think there was a monster living in my closet," Amanda confesses in a hushed tone, tangling their fingers tightly together and causing Olivia to frown in response.
"Okay..." she trails off, feeling somewhat confused now. "Well, I think that's a pretty normal childhood fear," she adds, recalling that she herself had been afraid of the same thing as a kid; that the monsters hiding under the bed would come and get her while her mother was passed out and unable to save her, but she is unsure of what these fictional creatures have to do with the adult version of Amanda and the current situation they are in.
"Well, what if it's still in there?" Amanda says in a stage whisper, as if afraid there is actually another entity present in the room with them that will overhear their conversation. "What if there's a monster in my closet right now?"
Olivia sputters out an incredulous laugh before she can stop herself, quickly reaching up to cover her mouth and clear her throat to hide the sound. "Okay, Amanda, no more drugs for you," she states with a short chuckle, only half-joking. "You're officially cut off. Fin was right about you not being able to handle the pain medication. This discussion is getting a little ridiculous."
She is about to gently chastise her colleague even further when she suddenly stops speaking, remembering what Fin had said at the hospital about Amanda's fear of monsters. Not used to dealing with this childlike version of the detective, Olivia is momentarily at a loss for words, familiar only with the professional and serious side of Amanda; the smart and passionate woman who tends to drive her a bit crazy at the precinct, the eagerness that her subordinate has for solving cases and doing things her own way tending to get her into trouble more often than not, and definitely keeping Olivia on her toes.
"There is no monster in your closet," she replies reassuringly, deciding that until the mood-altering drugs are out of the smaller woman's system, she will respectfully treat Amanda as someone much younger than she actually is and not as the brilliant and capable professional that she knows her to be.
"Well, okay, if you say so," Amanda answers in a doubtful tone that implies she is far from convinced.
"Honey, why are you so worried about this?" Olivia asks softly, leaning forward so she can get a better look at Amanda's tormented expression. "Fin said something like this happened the last time you were on pain medication; that you talked about this kind of thing with him. Do you remember having those conversations with him?"
Amanda stares at her uncomprehendingly for a moment before giving a slow shake of her head, her shoulders hunching up to her ears in an exaggerated shrug.
"Well, do you want to try and talk about it now?" Olivia continues quietly, setting the laptop aside and kneeling down on the floor next to the bed as she gives the smaller woman's hand another light squeeze. "Can you tell me why something that scared you as a kid is still scaring you now, especially when you know it's not real?"
Amanda cocks her head to the side and appears to be studying Olivia as intently as she can through her drugged haze, blue eyes piercing steadily into her own brown ones, when she suddenly pulls her hand away and straightens up on the bed with a slight grunt of pain. "You know, you don't have to be here, Liv. You can go home, if you want. No one has a gun to your head, forcing you to stay with me. I'm fine on my own."
"What? You can't be serious." Olivia rears back in stunned surprise, as Amanda seems to have done another complete turnaround when it comes to her independence and attitude, the change extremely abrupt and making her head spin. "This conversation alone is telling me that you're not fine, never mind the severe amount of pain you're still experiencing. If you don't want to talk about something that's making you uncomfortable, that's okay, but I'm staying here with you for the rest of the night and that's final, Amanda. No more arguing on this subject, please. And I know that no one is forcing me to be here with you. I want to be here."
"No, you should probably go," Amanda says firmly, her voice laced with misery as she turns her head away from Olivia and tries to roll over onto her side, a sharp hiss of pain escaping from her lips.
"Hey, hey, be careful there, honey," Olivia warns as she scrambles to her feet and gently grasps onto Amanda's upper arms, slowly turning her over so that she is lying on her back once again. "Try to stay still, okay? You're going to hurt yourself even more."
Amanda's head is tilted up toward the ceiling now, teeth clamping down hard on her lower lip and eyelids blinking rapidly, her hair splayed out in a tangled golden curtain across the pillowcase.
"What's going on, Amanda?" Olivia asks softly, waiting patiently when the other woman is silent for a long moment, apparently trying hard to gather her jumbled, confused thoughts together.
"Liv, I don't really like being on these meds," Amanda finally whispers, sounding somewhat choked up when she speaks again. "They make me feel weird. I feel stupid and scared at the same time. And they don't even help that much with the pain." There is a brief pause, her voice emitting in a fearful squeak. "They make me think about things I don't want to remember."
Olivia frowns in concern, hovering uncertainly over Amanda's trembling form for several seconds before deciding to perch gingerly on the edge of the bed next to her. "What kind of things?" she whispers back, feathering her fingers gently through Amanda's hair and pushing the blonde strands away from her face so she can get a better look at the other woman's delicate features.
She is beginning to wonder if the 'monster' that Amanda is referring to is actually a human being and the younger woman is getting certain events mixed up in her brain because of the amount of medication coursing through her system; the past and the present colliding into each other and creating a bewildering mix of half-remembered experiences, fact and fiction blurring together until one is indistinguishable from the other.
Amanda's eyes are bright with unshed tears and Olivia's heart clenches when she sees the depth of pain, both physical and emotional, residing inside the misty blue orbs. "I didn't mean what I said before," the detective replies gruffy, apparently choosing to ignore the question that has just been asked. "Don't leave, okay?"
"I'm not going anywhere, I promise," Olivia assures her, thinking how right Fin had been when he had mentioned the mood swings that came with the drugs, but also recognizing that they are a necessary evil in order for Amanda to have at least a small amount of relief from the pain.
She watches as her colleague reaches up to touch the hand that is still stroking through her long hair, lacing their fingers together and clutching Olivia's hand to her chest. "Liv, it hurts so much," she gasps out, her breath catching in her throat as a wave of intense pain seems to overtake her.
"I'm so sorry, honey," Olivia answers sympathetically, gritting her teeth together as she watches the other woman writhe on the bed momentarily before settling back down against the mattress, Amanda's face contorted in anguish.
She glances at the clock, relieved to see that just enough time has passed since Amanda had been given a last dose of painkillers before leaving the hospital, and that it is now safe to let her have a couple of the pills from the bottle on the nightstand. Olivia is a little apprehensive about the situation, considering the way her colleague has behaved so far while under the influence of the strong narcotics, but she knows there is not much choice in the matter despite her earlier joking of Amanda being cut off. The younger woman needs to maintain some sort of pain control until she begins to heal, despite the unpleasant and unpredictable side effects, so the discomfort of her injuries don't get too out of hand and become even harder to manage.
Olivia remains perched on the side of the bed as she gently helps Amanda into a more upright position so she can swallow the pills without choking on them. As the younger woman takes the tablets from her hand and pops them into her mouth, washing them down with a long gulp of water from the glass, she can't help but notice the bruises and scratches that are now standing out starkly on Amanda's pale arms, mixing in with the deeper cuts that had needed to be stitched up, the wounds clearly visible even in the dim lighting of the bedroom.
"Wow, our suspect really did a number on you, didn't he?" Olivia murmurs with a disconcerted shake of her head, her throat tightening briefly as she considers the sheer number of injuries Amanda had sustained in such a short amount of time, the duration of the attack only spanning a few minutes before the bullet from Fin's gun had put a stop to it.
"They're all over my entire body," Amanda responds quietly as she hands the glass of water to Olivia and wipes a stray drop of liquid from her lips. "He was really rough with me."
"I know he was, honey," she replies softly, thinking that Amanda's comment is actually the understatement of the century, as 'rough' doesn't even begin to cover how their suspect had brutalized her, Olivia reminded once again of just how close they had some to losing their teammate and friend.
A wave of sorrow and grief washes over her, even though Amanda is sitting right there beside her, alive if not quite well, and she swallows hard against the lump in her throat, shifting even closer to the younger woman on the mattress. Olivia feels the sudden need to be in close physical proximity to the detective, even though she is still uneasy about touching Amanda too often, aside from running a soothing hand through her hair from time to time, afraid that too much contact will cause even more harm and agony. She keeps a hand on top of the covers, resting comfortingly next to the smaller woman's leg while they wait for the medication to take effect, listening to Amanda's soft sighs of pain and trying not to let her eyelids droop closed with exhaustion.
This has proven to be a very long night so far and there doesn't appear to be an end in sight, as Olivia assumes they will both be getting little to no sleep over the next several hours. She is unsure of exactly what awaits her in terms of Amanda's emotions and behavior, and is tempted to go out to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee if there isn't much chance that she will actually be sleeping at some point, but refrains from doing so since she doesn't feel good about leaving Amanda alone for any length of time, especially now that she has just taken more medication.
It's obvious precisely when the drugs kick in because the smaller woman suddenly heaves a giant, dramatic sigh, but Olivia can tell that it is not a sound caused by physical or emotional distress, like it had been earlier. Amanda's body language is much more relaxed and less rigid now, the blonde detective staring openly at her, as if an important thought has just occurred to her and she is eager to say something.
"What's going on, Amanda?" Olivia ventures somewhat warily, sensing that the mood in the room has changed yet again and the conversation is about to take another turn for the ridiculous, her suspicions proving correct when Amanda speaks again.
"Livvy, do you ever wish we were best friends?"
Olivia's lips twitch in surprised amusement at this question, considering the contentious relationship that she and Amanda usually share at the precinct and that they rarely spend time together outside of work. "To be honest with you, I haven't really given it much thought," she admits before lapsing into silence for a moment. "Why, is it something you wish?"
"Yes," Amanda says shyly, a hint of hurt apparent in her tone when she continues talking. "So you've never even thought about us being friends?"
"Well, yes, I've thought about us being friends," Olivia answers truthfully once again. "But you were asking specifically about being best friends."
"So we can only be friends and not best friends?" Amanda challenges as she spears her with that drugged blue gaze.
"Honey, maybe we should talk about this when you're not on so much medication," Olivia suggests gently, wondering if she is going to suffer whiplash from being yanked back and forth so hard between the different moods and conversations that have been taking place in Amanda's bedroom tonight, and coming to the conclusion that is it definitely getting far too late for this kind of thing.
"Is it because you don't like me?" Amanda continues on as if Olivia hasn't even spoken, and she is noticing a somewhat irritating behavioral pattern that has begun to emerge over the past few hours; that if the younger woman decides she doesn't want to respond to something during one of their discussions, then she chooses to completely ignore it and move on to the next inquiry.
"Amanda, I like you just fine," Olivia assures her tiredly, pinching the skin between her eyebrows and feeling a headache coming on. "How about we quiet down now and try to get some sleep? It's late and you need your rest and quite frankly, so do I. Less talking and more sleeping, okay?"
"But I'm not tired," Amanda protests instantly, looking and sounding remarkably like a cranky toddler, the petulant whine in her voice matching the disgruntled way that the smaller woman's arms have crossed over her chest.
"Well, that surprises me, considering you seem to have enough drugs in your system to sedate an elephant," Olivia responds wryly. "How about we at least try to quiet down a bit, okay?"
"Okay, no problem, Livvy," Amanda answers agreeably and Olivia stifles a sigh, because she can tell by the other woman's tone that the silence isn't going to last long.
Sure enough, the lull in conversation is quite brief before Amanda is opening her mouth yet again, her eyebrows raised curiously. "Liv, do you think I'm immature?"
This time Olivia doesn't even try to hold back the snort of laughter that comes bursting out of her mouth. "Honey, I don't think now is the right time to be asking me that question," she chuckles dryly, raking a hand through her disheveled hair and wondering when she'll be able to take a shower.
"So is that why you don't want to be friends with me? Because I'm immature? Because you're Lieutenant Livvy and I'm just Detective Mandy?"
Olivia rolls her eyes and and is unsuccessful in stifling her loud groan, rubbing her hands over her face as her shoulders shake with a combination of mirth and irritation. "Please do me a favor and don't start referring to us as 'Lieutenant Livvy' and 'Detective Mandy' when we're at the precinct, okay? We sound like some sort of cartoon crime-fighting duo. Fin and Carisi will never let us live it down," she smirks before sighing deeply when she notices the expectant look on Amanda's face, realizing the other woman is waiting for an actual answer. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"
Amanda shakes her head, that vulnerable expression on her face once again, like she is going to shatter to pieces if she doesn't get exactly the answer she is hoping for, and Olivia decides to tread very carefully with this conversation, still finding it thoroughly strange to be dealing with this aspect of her colleague's personality; these odd qualities thankfully only seeming to make an appearance when she is under the influence of narcotics. Her subordinate is turning out to be quite a bit more high maintenance than she is on a regular basis, although a tiny part of Olivia has to admit that these current traits are somewhat sweet and endearing, along with being highly annoying and exhausting.
Amanda seems to be quite intent with carrying on a serious conversation and it is proving to be a difficult task for Olivia to accomplish, under these circumstances. The smaller woman is drowning in the hospital scrubs she is wearing, her long blonde hair tangled like a child's, purple smudges of fatigue standing out beneath glazed blue eyes, and Olivia feels an overwhelming urge to lean over and scoop Amanda into her lap. She is experiencing an odd sensation of simultaneously fighting back another wave of laughter while feeling like her heart is breaking; torn in two as she observes the full spectrum of her detective's emotions and actions, from intense suffering to extreme silliness.
"Honey, of course we can be friends," Olivia says gently. "And I don't think you're immature. Tonight might be a bit of an exception but that's not your fault, and it doesn't even have to count, okay?" she adds lightly. "To be perfectly honest, Amanda, one of the reasons I've held back for all these years was because I assumed you didn't like me."
She feels utterly ridiculous admitting something like this, a lieutenant of the Special Victims Unit who is over the age of fifty actually being worried that her subordinate dislikes her, and she winces at the childish statement, even though what she has just said is entirely true. She and Amanda hadn't gotten off on the right foot all those years ago when the detective had transferred from Atlanta, and Olivia knows that it is largely due to her own behavior; the extreme reluctance and standoffish attitude that she had first portrayed setting them on the wrong path and continuing throughout the following years.
"Huh?" Amanda appears completely dumbfounded now, her brows furrowed deeply. "But Liv, you're my favorite boss. Of course I like you."
"Yes, honey, you mentioned that a couple of times in the emergency room," Olivia chuckles appreciatively. "Thank you for saying that."
"Do you want to know a secret?" Amanda whispers conspiratorially, leaning forward on the mattress, a slight grimace crossing her features as she appears to briefly lose her balance and the pain makes a reappearance.
"Sure," Olivia whispers back, reaching out a hand to steady the other woman and wishing she would try to be more careful.
"I like you the most, Liv," Amanda confides quietly, her serious tone not matching the somewhat slurred quality of her words. "That's why I picked you to take me home. But I always thought you were the one who didn't like me."
Olivia laughs lightly at this revelation, a feeling of wonder and warmth unfurling inside her chest; coming to the stark realization that it shouldn't have taken one of them nearly losing her life to finally be admitting this to each other. "Well, it appears that we've been getting our wires crossed all this time, hasn't it?"
"How do we uncross them?" Amanda's delicate features are screwed up as if she is giving this issue a lot of thought.
"I think we're off to a pretty good start tonight," Olivia answers gently, stroking a tender hand through Amanda's hair and urging her to lean back against the pillows again. "But I also think this is something to worry about a little later, okay? Right now we are both in desperate need of a good sleep. It's the middle of the night, honey. Let's settle down now, alright?"
"Alright," Amanda agrees softly, her big blue eyes fixed intensely upon Olivia and a pleading expression on her face now, and she knows what the younger woman's next question is going to be before she even asks. "Will you please sleep in the bed with me, Liv? You won't hurt me." There is a slight pause and the small detective's voice is shaking with emotion when she speaks again. "I need you. I don't want to be alone."
Olivia smiles gently at her colleague before getting to her feet and walking around to the other side of the mattress, tentatively pulling back the covers as she decides to give in so they can finally get some sleep. "Okay, honey."
When Olivia awakens again, it is still dark in the room and she is dismayed to find herself alone in the bed, the vacated sheets rumpled and chilled as if Amanda has been gone for quite some time, and she curses herself for falling into such a deep sleep that she hadn't heard the younger woman leave. Her concern instantly switches to panic when she becomes aware of the violent retching coming from the direction of the bathroom and quickly scrambles out from beneath the covers, hurrying into the next room. Olivia doesn't even bother knocking on the door that is standing partway open, practically tripping over her own feet in her haste to get to Amanda and then stopping short at what she sees.
Amanda is crouched on the floor next to the toilet, clad in the hospital scrub top and a pair of underwear, a thin line of blood blooming across the front of her shirt and tears running down her pale cheeks, a disoriented expression on her face. The other woman's pants and socks have been removed and appear to have been flung carelessly across the tiles, although one of the socks has somehow made its way up onto the counter and is dangling precariously over the edge.
"Liv, I don't feel well," Amanda moans in anguish, squinting up at Olivia and wiping the back of a shaking hand over her mouth. "I don't want anymore pills, okay? They're making me sick. They're making me see things."
"Whoa, Amanda, what's going on in here?" Olivia asks in alarm as she rushes towards her and kneels down next to the detective, her hands braced on Amanda's shoulders as she tries to get a better look at the front of her body. "What happened? Did you rip your stitches open when you threw up? Where is that blood coming from?"
"I don't feel well," Amanda repeats as her voice breaks on a sob, seemingly unconcerned with the dark red liquid that is slowly seeping through the material of her shirt. "They're in my head."
"Okay, honey, just take a deep breath and tell me exactly what's going on," Olivia instructs as she tries to stay calm, both hands on Amanda's damp, pale cheeks now, holding the other woman's face steady and trying to maintain eye contact with her. "Who's in your head?"
"The monsters," Amanda whimpers fearfully, one hand clutching at her own hair and the other clenched tightly onto Olivia's forearm, fingernails digging in hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks on her skin. "They're not in my closet anymore. They're in my head and I can't get them out."