There are trigger warnings for discussions of rape in this chapter so please be aware of that before reading, if this subject matter is triggering for you.
"Liv, where are we going?" Amanda asks warily when they have arrived at their destination several minutes later and are working their way down a steep set of icy stairs set into the side of a narrow building.
"Just a little place that I found after one of my first appointments with Dr. Lindstrom," Olivia explains as they slowly climb down the steps, their hands locked tightly around one another so neither of them slip on the slushy ice and take a painful tumble down onto the snow-covered cement waiting at the bottom.
"How did you manage to come across this place? It looks like some kind of dungeon," Amanda mutters when they have reached the partially hidden, graffiti-covered door of the establishment that is tucked around the back of the building, and Olivia chuckles at the younger woman's somewhat dramatic statement, guessing that the bright colors smeared across the dark wood of the door are either the work of a bored teenager or a budding artist.
She notices with no small amount of curiosity and concern that the blonde detective's hand remains gripped strongly within her own for a moment, as if reluctant to let go, and she gives the chilled fingers a gentle squeeze of understanding, letting the other woman know that she is there for her. Amanda seems to realize what she is doing and suddenly pulls away, a rosy pink blush creeping across her pale cheeks and her blue eyes fixed intently upon the ground now, Olivia choosing not to comment, as she knows Amanda is likely embarrassed by her actions.
"I can assure you that it's definitely not a dungeon," she replies with a smile, opening the door and motioning for the detective to go in ahead of her. "It's just a comfortable, cozy place to get a hot drink after a long day."
"Well, I guess appearances can be deceiving, then," Amanda murmurs once they have stepped inside, Olivia watching as she gazes around with a faint look of interest on her face now.
They are on the ground floor of a space that is deceptively small from the outside; a shop that opens up into a very large area upon walking in the door and multiple levels rising up above them, selling an odd assortment of used books, artwork and clothing, along with some of the most delicious food and drink that Olivia has ever tasted. The store has something of a retro-country look and feel to it, and they are surrounded by tastefully weathered wood; the floors, walls, ceilings and staircases all adorned in the earthy lumber, and giving the place a homey touch of warmth instead of being too overwhelming. Simple decorations dotting the walls here and there, along with old-fashioned shabby but chic furniture, add to the relaxed, welcoming atmosphere, and although the place is quite busy, it is quiet and orderly, everyone speaking in hushed tones and respecting the privacy of other patrons, which is a strange and rare thing to come by in New York.
"This is pretty nice," Amanda adds appreciatively a moment later. "I never would have known this place was here, especially with the way it looks from the outside. How did you find it?"
Olivia peers at her in silence for a brief beat of time, deciding to share something personal since she is still hoping that Amanda will open up to her at some point that evening, despite how adamant she has been with not wanting to talk. "You know those stairs we just walked down out there?" She gestures vaguely toward the door they have entered through, watching as Amanda nods.
"Well, I was sitting on those steps, having a really bad anxiety attack after one of my initial appointments with Dr. Lindstrom," she admits softly, noticing a blonde eyebrow quirk slightly in response. "I was walking back to my apartment from his office because it was a nice day out, and the panic just hit me all of a sudden. The appointment had been really intense, since we were discussing the details of what had happened with Lewis, and I was pretty out of sorts afterwards. I needed somewhere to sit down quickly because I was worried about passing out right on the sidewalk, and I ended up sitting on the stairs. When I was finally able to get myself under control, I decided to do a bit of exploring instead of just running home to hang out alone in my apartment. And that's when I found my little hideout," she continues with a small smile, nodding toward the interior of the shop. "I often come here after my appointments, even when I'm not particularly upset. It's just a nice, quiet place to wind down and relax and be alone with my thoughts."
Amanda nods slowly and appears to be studying Olivia quite closely now, her head cocked slightly to the side and long hair hanging in a golden curtain down one arm, bright blue eyes focused intently upon her instead of fixing on the ground, like earlier. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Liv," she murmurs after a moment of quiet between them. "I'm glad you found this place, though. I can see why you like it so much. It kind of reminds me of growing up back home in Georgia. We had places that were sort of similar to this."
There is silence again and it looks like the other woman wants to continue speaking, so Olivia waits patiently to hear what she has to say, wanting nothing more than for Amanda to feel comfortable enough to talk to her about anything that has been going on with Charles Patton and Reese Taymor and the trial. She knows from personal experience how important it is to not keep everything bottled up inside and has felt a certain kinship with Amanda since learning of the horrific events of her past; a strange kind of solidarity and bond that did not previously exist between them.
Despite Amanda's anger toward her; the perceived invasion of her personal business and privacy and the subsequent avoidance, Olivia vows to be there for her in any way that she possibly can, only just beginning to realize how Amanda's past may be affecting her present; that perhaps this is the reason why the younger woman acts in the frustrating and perplexing way that she often does, taking matters into her own hands with certain cases and doing her best to push people away. There are stark similarities with the both of them and everything they have suffered through in their lives, and maybe this is why there has always been a certain distance between them. The things that should have brought them closer together have instead pushed them farther apart, due to the nature of their respective anguish and that instinct to bottle everything up rather than sharing it with someone who might actually understand.
"You're lucky to have a place to go that brings you some peace and comfort," Amanda finally mutters. "I wish I had a place like this to come and hide out for a little while. I don't think I could find peace and quiet if my life depended on it. Everything is just too loud and chaotic all the time."
"Well, you know this is a public place, Amanda," Olivia teases gently, although her heart is aching at the detective's response, unsure if she is referring to the general noise of the city or the lack of peace and quiet in her own mind. She knows all too well the torment that her own thoughts and demons have inflicted upon her over the years; those dark little pockets of her brain where the worst of her memories reside coming alive with alarming regularity to force the pain of the past upon her. "You can come here whenever you want."
"This is your place, Liv," Amanda replies softly, shrugging her shoulders and waving her hand. "You found it first. I wouldn't want to intrude."
"You're not intruding, honey," Olivia assures her, the term of endearment slipping out once again before she can stop it. "You're welcome to come here whenever you like." She pauses for a long moment, unsure of whether or not to voice what she is thinking, but the words come tumbling out once more, as if her mouth has a mind of its own; and she can't explain this feeling that has suddenly come over her, this need to share and be close to the other woman.
It's as if she is finally seeing Amanda for the first time and wants to extend an olive branch of sorts; is desperate to clear the air between them and unable to stand the detective's suffering; a suffering that is so like her own. "This can be our place, if you want, instead of just mine. Somewhere to go where we can both clear our minds and take solace in the peace and quiet."
Amanda's eyebrows fly up immediately in response, appearing quite surprised by this offer, although there is a small smile playing at the corner of her lips now instead of the scowl that Olivia has half expected to see. She knows that Amanda has a tendency to bristle and pull away when someone is overly familiar with her, preferring not to let anyone get too close, and figures she is really toeing the line with this particular suggestion; this sudden attempt to finally begin building a friendship between them and draw away from the contentious boss/subordinate relationship that they share at the precinct.
"Our place, huh?" the younger woman says, sounding somewhat amused, but something else mixing in with the slight mirth; a hint of gratitude, perhaps, or possibly something deeper. A crooked smile is spreading across Amanda's face now, the action just barely reaching her sad blue eyes and filling them with something that appears to be hope, and Olivia can't help but smile back. "Okay, Liv, that sounds good. Thanks."
There is a brief pause, Amanda smirking when she speaks again. "So what kind of drinks do they serve here at our place?"
The ice seems to have broken between them and they stand there grinning at each other for moment, this odd camaraderie and understanding having sprung up to fill the previously awkward and controversial space amidst them, and Olivia feels a tendril of relief as she leads Amanda over to the little snack counter that is tucked away in one of the corners. They order giant cups of hot chocolate and tiny pastries filled with whipped cream, carrying everything over to a battered velvet couch that is partially hidden underneath the wooden beams of the staircase.
It is very private and cozy beneath the set of stairs, the harsher lights of the shop traded for the twinkling white lights that are strung up on the walls around them, lending a somewhat magical feeling to the small, dim space, and Olivia sips contentedly on her piping hot drink, noticing that Amanda appears to be much more relaxed now. The smaller woman is leaning back against the cushions of the old couch, nibbling daintily on her pastry as her eyes roam slowly around the interior of the shop, watching the other customers with interest and taking everything in.
"You know you're the first person I've ever brought here," Olivia says thoughtfully after it has been silent for quite awhile, breaking the peaceful quiet between them and licking a dollop of whipped cream from one of her fingers. "No one else even knows about this place."
"Really?" Amanda sounds a tad skeptical when she responds. "Well, what's so special about me?"
Olivia can detect the somewhat wry tone in the detective's voice now, and glances over to see the slight roll of her eyes, Amanda speaking again before she can respond.
"You don't have to answer that, Liv. I know you only brought me here to try and get me to talk."
"I already said we don't have to talk, if that's not what you want to do," Olivia reminds her gently, not at all eager for this spell of peace to be broken between them. "I would never force you to do something you're uncomfortable with," she adds quickly, repeating what she had said on the sidewalk outside of Dr. Lindstrom's office and needing Amanda to know that she is safe in her presence; that Olivia won't pressure her to talk, even though she remains hopeful that her colleague will eventually open up about everything that has been happening lately.
"Well, it's nice that someone is actually capable of taking no for an answer," Amanda mumbles under her breath, her voice so low that Olivia nearly doesn't catch what she is saying.
She glances over at the younger woman again and her throat feels somewhat constricted as she regards her, Amanda's posture suddenly defensive once more. Her shoulders have hunched up around her ears and her knees are drawing closer to her chest, her fingers shredding the pastry into tiny pieces instead of eating the little treat. It's like a switch has been flipped and the easy silence and companionship that has formed between them seems to have been shattered by this softly uttered statement, Amanda's hand shaking slightly as she stops mangling her food long enough to raise the mug of hot chocolate to her lips, wincing as the boiling liquid appears to burn her tongue.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, honey," Olivia says quietly, her tone radiating with compassion and empathy, and her hand hovers in the air between them for a brief moment, wanting to reach out and touch the other woman but unsure if the gesture would be welcome. "I'm so sorry he wouldn't take no for an answer."
Amanda shrugs and gives an indifferent wave of her hand, determinedly avoiding her gaze again, like she had outside. "It was my own fault," she murmurs faintly. "I walked right into it. I gave my consent."
"It doesn't matter," Olivia replies gently, taking a chance and laying a hand upon her shuddering arm, relieved when Amanda doesn't immediately jerk away from her touch and instead leans slightly toward her. She shifts closer to the blonde detective on the couch, their legs nearly touching now, and clutches Amanda's forearm with a firmer grip. "You withdrew your consent and he didn't stop. It wasn't your fault."
"Tell that to Reese Taymor," Amanda mutters bitterly, her head hanging down and long hair obscuring her expression. "This whole thing is my fault. I'm the one who initiated it with Patton and then I didn't say anything after it went too far; I didn't tell anyone. None of us would be in this situation right now if I hadn't been such a coward and had just spoken up about what had happened. Reese is right to blame me. And now she has to live with this for the rest of her life, just like I do. Everything is my fault."
"Amanda, no," Olivia objects sternly as she closes the small gap between them, sliding over on the cushions so the sides of their bodies are pressed together now, unable to ignore that urge to try and provide some physical comfort, along with finding the right words to say in an effort to calm her upset colleague down. "This was not your fault. He was your superior. He had no right to do what he did to either you or Reese. You have to stop blaming yourself."
"I am to blame," Amanda snaps in response, blue eyes swinging up to meet Olivia's dark gaze, and her breath catches in her throat when she sees the fury and anguish blazing there, the younger woman's composure rapidly slipping and threatening to crumble entirely as she visibly struggles to hold onto it. "This was a terrible idea, you bringing me here. I knew this was going to happen; that I would eventually break down and start talking. What is it about you, Olivia? You have the magic touch with victims, don't you?"
The detective's voice is bitter and angry as she continues speaking, cracking on the word victims, and any contentment and camaraderie that had previously been achieved seems to have completely vanished in the face of Amanda's sudden intense emotions. "One look at those caring brown eyes and listening to that soothing voice telling me that it's not my fault, and I just crack like an egg. I thought I could hold out, that I was stronger than that, but apparently I was wrong. I should just keep my stupid mouth shut. This my business and no one else's, this is my own cross to bear. I don't want to talk about this!"
Amanda's raised voice has attracted the attention of some of the other patrons now, along with a steely glare from the young man working behind the snack counter, and Olivia expels a deep sigh as he wags a finger back and forth at them in an apparent warning to quiet down. Amanda gives a loud snort of derision in response and looks as if she is about to argue with him; like she needs the release of a shouting match and putting someone else in their place, but Olivia nods quickly back at him in affirmation, her grip on the detective's arm becoming more firm now.
"Okay, honey, just calm down," she says in a quiet tone, stroking her fingers back and forth along the material of Amanda's winter jacket in a pacifying manner. "It's okay."
"Don't tell me to calm down, Olivia," Amanda snarls back at her, the sheer amount of venom in her tone causing Olivia to flinch, and she struggles to control her own burst of impatience and anger that is trying to break free, the other woman's moods swinging wildly back and forth at breakneck speed. She is determined to keep her cool with the situation, though; knowing all too well the deep sorrow and grief that her colleague is currently experiencing.
"It's not okay. Nothing is okay," Amanda continues in a lower tone as her voice breaks slightly, Olivia carefully drawing the blonde detective into her embrace and her arms closing around the shaking form; aware that any sense of privacy has been destroyed with Amanda's emotional outburst and that they have garnered a small audience now, faces peering out curiously from behind racks of clothing and shelves of books.
She holds the smaller woman protectively against her chest, irritated that so many sets of eyes are fixed keenly upon them now as all of these strangers witness Amanda's breakdown. Her arms tighten around the detective, fighting the urge to snap at everyone to stop staring, even though Amanda has brought the attention on herself by her lack of emotional control, her normally stoic colleague seeming to lack the self-discipline that she usually posses and falling apart in an instant. Olivia knows that the other patrons are just inquisitive about the situation and perhaps also concerned, and that they likely don't mean to be nosy, so she resolutely ignores them, running her fingers soothing through Amanda's hair and whispering words of reassurance.
Amanda is stiff in her embrace and seems to be very ill at ease, and Olivia rocks her gently back and forth in an effort to loosen her up, waiting for her to calm down and feel somewhat comfortable in her surroundings again before slowly beginning to pull away so she can get a look at her face. She hears a gasp in response and is momentarily confused, thinking Amanda actually wants to extend the physical contact between them and is upset that Olivia is backing away, before she follows the detective's gaze, her breath catching in her throat and her heart nearly stopping at what she sees.
Deputy Chief Charles Patton is standing by the check-out counter, handing a heavy hardcover book to the cashier, smiling in response to something the young woman is saying and pulling a thick wad of cash from his wallet. Olivia stares at him in disbelief, a deep frown pulling her eyebrows together, feeling a prickle of unease and confusion that the man who has tormented Amanda in the past and is continuing to torment her in the present has suddenly materialized before them.
He turns away from the counter and glances briefly in their direction, his gaze sweeping past the little nook they are huddled in, absolutely no awareness or familiarity evident on his face, and his hand lifts in a welcoming gesture as he seems to catch sight of someone he knows. Although his resemblance to Patton had been absolutely uncanny from a side profile, it's extremely obvious that it is not him now that he is facing forward, the man only bearing a passing likeness to Amanda's former boss. Olivia expels a quick sigh of relief, chastising herself for jumping to such ridiculous conclusions and briefly convinced that the deputy chief was actually somehow following Amanda, aware that the stress of the current trial is putting them both on edge.
Her hands are still resting on the detective's forearms, Amanda staring straight at the man with a visibly shocked expression fixed on her delicate features, her skin leached of all color and leaving an ashen quality to her complexion, the shaking of her limbs becoming more pronounced now.
"Hey, it's okay," Olivia says softly. "It's not him, honey."
Amanda is silent, her jaw set rigidly as a bead of sweat rolls down her temple, and her gaze remains completely focused on the man; this stranger who has apparently run into an old friend and is enthusiastically embracing another man who appears to be just as excited about their impromptu reunion, their jovial laughter carrying over to their tense little hideout under the stairs.
Olivia tightens her hold on the other woman's arms, her fingers squeezing more firmly now. "It's okay," she repeats insistently, gently grasping onto the sides of the detective's face and guiding her head around so they can look each other in the eye. "Amanda, it's okay. It's not him."
"I know," the younger woman whispers, her voice shaking so hard, it appears to be difficult to get the words out. "I know it's not." Her gaze locks with Olivia's for a moment and there is a faraway look in her eyes now, a slight shiver running through Olivia's body as there seems to be a brief second of unawareness in the stormy blue orbs that are looking back at her.
"I need to go, Liv," Amanda mumbles faintly, suddenly springing up from the couch without warning and Olivia rearing back in surprise as she rushes toward the door.
"Amanda, hold on!" she calls out loudly, the blatant worry in her tone causing all eyes in the place to focus on them once again, but she ignores everyone and hurries after the smaller woman, bursting through the door and out into the frigid winter night, the freezing air a shock to the system after the cozy warmth and comfort of her favorite shop.
Amanda is clutching onto the railing at the bottom of the stairs and gripping the metal beam so hard that her knuckles have turned white, bent over at the waist and seemingly struggling to catch her breath.
"Are you alright?" Olivia asks in alarm, one hand resting lightly on her back she as she leans down to try and get a look at her face.
Amanda appears to be unable to speak for a moment, her small frame quivering violently from head to toe, and she shakes her head in reply instead of verbally confirming that she is not okay.
"I know that was scary, honey," Olivia answers gently, rubbing brisk circles across the younger woman's coat. "I think it took us both by surprise for a minute there, especially since we're in the middle of his trial, but it's not him. You're safe, Amanda."
"Oh my god, I'm such a fucking mess," Amanda whimpers in response, covering her face with shaking hands and dissolving into deep, shuddering sobs. "I'm so sorry, Olivia," she gasps out between breathy little cries. "I know you're only trying to help and I'm being a complete bitch. You brought me to this special place that means a lot to you, because you wanted to share it with me, and I ruined it. I think I'm going crazy. I see him everywhere; in my nightmares and out on the street. He won't leave me alone."
Another agonizing sob bursts from her lips, her crying intensifying. "My moods are all over the place and I feel like I don't have control over anything anymore. You don't deserve this. I'm just going to go home, okay?"
"The hell you are," Olivia replies softly but firmly, stepping forward to enfold the weeping detective into her comforting embrace, Amanda instantly melting against her body as if she is no longer able to hold herself upright without help, slender arms winding tightly around her back and a blonde head leaning heavily against her shoulder.
"You're coming home with me for the evening," she murmurs into Amanda's ear, swaying their entwined forms soothingly from side to side as they cling to each other on the icy sidewalk. "I'm not leaving you alone in this condition, honey. Please let me help you."
Olivia draws back slightly, sweeping a tender hand through the younger woman's hair and pushing the rumpled golden strands away from her forehead so she can see Amanda's face. "Is that okay with you?" she adds quietly, remembering to seek permission instead of just barking an order, so Amanda doesn't feel threatened in any way or forced to do anything she is uncomfortable with.
There is silence for a long moment, the detective regarding her with hesitant, bloodshot eyes, the tears continuing to stream in rivulets down her cheeks and her expression contorted into one of deep anguish. Olivia gazes patiently back at her, reaching down to link their fingers together and squeezing Amanda's trembling hands encouragingly as she awaits an answer.
"Okay," Amanda finally whispers in consent, much to Olivia's relief. "I'll come home with you, Liv."