I thought the previous chapter was going to be the final one of the series, but I had another idea after watching "Downloaded Child" for the first time in years. Things were so tense and strained between Amanda and Olivia (since this episode was a few weeks after "Gambler's Fallacy") and I wanted to explore Amanda's feelings. There are brief mentions of William Lewis in this chapter, but nothing graphic.

Thank you for the lovely reviews on the previous chapter and for making an effort to read it when this site is making it so difficult! I can see this chapter is going to have the same problem, so hopefully it will be visible at some point.

Title: The Truth

Genre: Angst/hurt/comfort

Rating: T

Season: 15

Episode: 19 (Downloaded Child)

Amanda holds her breath when she hears the bathroom door swing open and the footsteps sound on the tiles. Resting her head against the cold metal of the closed stall, she squeezes her eyes shut as she listens to them come to a stop in front of the row of sinks; footsteps that she would know anywhere.

She cracks one eyelid open and moves her head slightly to the left, giving her vision a few seconds to adjust and focus on the tiny space between the door of her cubicle and the one next to it. Amanda can see her sergeant standing there in front of the mirror, Olivia's arms spread to either side and her hands clenching firmly onto one of the sinks, her knuckles turning white as she grips the cool porcelain. The brunette's shoulders are raised like she is shrugging, and it looks as if her head is bowed down toward the ground, Amanda's brow furrowing slightly at the fatigued and possibly despondent pose of the normally strong woman.

She wonders if their latest case is hitting Olivia as hard as it's been hitting her, Jenny Aschler's trauma causing a constant ache in her chest of both sorrow and disgust, and reminding her of past events that she would much rather forget. Between the heartbreaking case and the tension that instantly crackles in the air whenever she's in the general vicinity of her boss, Amanda is nearly at her wit's end, unsure of how much longer she can do this.

It has been a few weeks since the whole debacle with Declan Murphy and the underground gambling club; since Olivia's announcement of not trusting her and wanting her transferred, and as hard as Amanda tries, she knows things are just getting worse instead of better. It's painfully obvious that Olivia can barely stand the sight of her and doesn't want her here; that Amanda's mere presence in the squad room is enough to put her in a bad mood, her beautiful features morphing into a scowl and her voice stern and dismissive whenever she is nearby.

They've never really been friends but they hadn't been enemies either, before everything with Declan; perpetually existing in that grey area where acquaintances and colleagues reside; not disliking each other but a distinct lack of anything warm and fuzzy in their interactions, refraining from dispensing hugs and pats on the back whenever life got rough. They were nowhere close to the relationship that Amanda has always longed for them to share, but at least it hadn't been like this, where she feels like she's walking on eggshells whenever she's around Olivia.

She bites her lip at the thought of that horrible conversation in the older woman's office, and the tears that had blurred her vision then are doing the same now, Amanda blinking them away impatiently. She doesn't think she can handle this for much longer; trying to get back into Olivia's good graces when the brunette's hatred of her is more than apparent and knowing that everything she does is futile. Amanda blows out the breath she has been holding before realizing what she's doing, the air trapped in her lungs releasing in a heavy sigh of despair, and her eyes widening when she sees Olivia look up at the abrupt sound, their gazes locking in the mirror.

She rears back from the stall door as Olivia slowly turns around to face her, gritting her teeth when her calf bangs into the toilet behind her and pain throbs the length of her muscle. Her heart is racing so wildly inside her chest that Amanda thinks she might be sick, the vomit surging up in her throat before she swallows it back with distaste. She isn't in the right head space for any kind of confrontation with Olivia right now, or even a simple discussion for that matter, and she racks her brain for anything she can do or say to dispel what is most certainly going to be another awful encounter.

Amanda hopes her boss will just depart from the bathroom and leave her here in peace, but of course that doesn't happen; the husky voice that either sends a shiver of desire down her spine or a chill of fear, depending on the circumstances, ringing out through the room.

"You spying on me, Rollins?"

Amanda bites down so hard on her bottom lip, she wonders if she has drawn blood, trying to decide if Olivia's tone is teasing or accusing. But since she can't imagine her sergeant making light of anything right now, at least not with her, Amanda figures she must be angry instead of playful, and rushes to apologize, her mouth falling open but no sound emitting.

To her horror, the tears that had been welling in her eyes a moment ago are making a return appearance and streaking her cheeks before she can blink them away again, Amanda clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle the sob that has joined the vomit bubbling in the back of her throat.

"Rollins? Are you alright?"

She takes a chance and peeks through the minuscule gap again, locking eyes with Olivia once more and gasping in response as those penetrating brown orbs bore right into her own with an unnerving intensity. Amanda rears back again like she has been slapped, looking frantically around the tiny space for some kind of escape but acknowledging that she is well and truly trapped in here with a woman who despises her.

Despite everything that has happened between them and the way Olivia has been treating her lately, Amanda still feels that obnoxious awe and adoration that she had arrived in New York with a few years prior, and maybe even something resembling love. She can't seem to help these ridiculous feelings and wishes she could match the other woman's hatred, as it would definitely make things easier to bear, but had long ago accepted the fact that it was impossible to hate Olivia Benson.

"I'm fine," Amanda chokes out, realizing Olivia isn't going to budge from her spot outside the stall if she doesn't receive an answer, and chastising herself for acting like a child playing hide-in-seek. "I just needed a minute."

"Rough case, isn't it?"

Her eyes bulge at the older woman's reply, positive that she can detect a hint of actual concern in her tone or perhaps even empathy, Amanda's hand hovering over the lock and wondering if she should open the door or remain where she is, her feet rooted to the scuffed floor. "Yeah, it's a bad one," she agrees softly after a tense pause, her quivering fingers fiddling with the lock and one foot lifting from the tiles as she tries to decide how to proceed from here.

"Take all the time you need," Olivia says in that same odd tone, Amanda breathing a sigh of relief when her sergeant disappears from view, assuming she's heading toward the door.

But the footsteps stop a split second later and Amanda's heart seizes in her chest, holding her breath again while the tears continue in noiseless pathways down her face and her skin prickles with goosebumps. There is dead silence for a moment, her eyebrows puckered in confusion, before she practically jumps out of her skin at the soft knock that sounds on the stall door, right next to her head.

"Wh-what?" she stutters out in shock, quickly swiping her palms over her cheeks to rid herself of the embarrassing and irritating display of emotion, and determined to act like the intelligent and unflappable detective that she knows herself to be. "Didn't you just say I could take all the time I need? Is something wrong?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

"What do you mean?"

"I know you're crying in there, Rollins."

"No, I'm not," Amanda immediately argues in spite of the tears that keep coming, forever feeling the need to contradict Olivia even when the other woman is right.

"Haven't you lied to me enough lately? Why can't you just tell me the truth?"

"Why does it matter?" she murmurs nearly inaudibly as her shoulders slump in dejection, flinching at the sharp, accusing note that is evident in her boss' voice now.

"Pardon?"

"If I lie," Amanda clarifies as her head slopes forward and comes to rest against the door, her eyelids fluttering closed again as the insistent tears keep replenishing themselves. "I can't get back into your good graces either way, so why does it matter whether I lie or tell the truth? And I know you don't care, anyway."

"I wouldn't still be in here if I didn't care." A heavy pause ensues and Amanda can hear her sergeant shifting from one foot to the other, is if this interaction is making Olivia nervous or impatient. "And it does matter."

The barest tendril of hope begins to wind its way through the misery and gloom that have been clinging to her like a second skin for the past several weeks, and for the first time since the confrontation in Olivia's office, Amanda wonders if they can get past this and put it behind them. She wants so badly to start fresh; wants to do better and make Olivia see that she can be trusted and is a valuable member of the team who can do good work.

Amanda's hands are trembling even harder as she takes a deep breath and reaches down to click the lock, finally easing the stall door open so they are looking at each other. "I'm sorry I'm such a fuck-up. I know you want me gone, but I'll do anything I can to fix things and make them up to you. I know I'm the worst subordinate ever," she adds shamefully, watching as Olivia's gaze softens somewhat at this declaration.

"Well, maybe not the worst," the other woman concedes as her lip quirks in the barest hint of a smile, Amanda's heart leaping as that trace of hope blooms into something more solid.

She smiles tentatively in return, still standing inside the stall and holding onto the edge of the door like it's the only thing keeping her upright. Her heart pounds inside her chest, the organ slamming uncomfortably into her rib cage as she stares at Olivia and takes in the details of her appearance; her dark hair, dark clothes, dark makeup, and dark nails; everything dark since Lewis.

Amanda suddenly longs to ask the older woman how she is doing and if she is coping well in the aftermath, but knows how pointless the question is, as Olivia would never be truthful with her about anything of a personal nature. The inquiry would most likely be just another reason for Olivia to become angry with her, so Amanda keeps her mouth shut and bites down on her tongue to hold back her questions and curiosity.

"You can come out of there, you know." Olivia tilts her head to the side and gestures to the small space around her, gazing at Amanda with an unreadable expression. "You don't have to hide from me."

"Yeah, I know," Amanda chuckles anxiously, taking a hesitant step outside the cubicle and twisting the hem of her shirt with shuddering fingers, unsure of what to do with her hands and missing her sassy confidence.

"You're shaking," Olivia observes with a furrowed brow, Amanda's breath catching in her throat as the brunette's hand grazes her shoulder in a concerned gesture. "And I can see the tears on your face. Tell me what's wrong."

Amanda hurriedly scrubs her palms across her cheeks to rid herself of the mortifying evidence of her anguish before crossing her arms over her chest and stepping away from Olivia's touch, her skin tingling beneath her shirt. She has no idea what to do with herself now; if she should bolt from the room before this situation becomes even more awkward, or continue trying to plead with Olivia to forgive her transgressions and treat her the way she used to.

She stares at the older woman through eyes that are stubbornly swimming with tears even after wiping them away again, suddenly wishing for the particular brand of tenderness that Olivia reserves for the victims they deal with in their cases to be lavished upon her. She longs to have those strong arms wrapped around her body; for the brunette to bring her hand up to Amanda's head and urge it down onto her shoulder, for one palm to rub along her back while the other strokes through her hair as she speaks comfortingly to her.

"I just wish you didn't hate me," she finally whispers, cringing at the immaturity of her voice and her words, and wondering why she had shrugged away from Olivia's touch when it's something she wants so fervently. "I wish there was some way for me to get back into your good graces."

Amanda looks down at her shoes before glancing back up at Olivia and continuing with her confession, her sergeant's expression still unreadable, although it's obvious that she's listening intently. "It's just so hard to work like this everyday, knowing how you feel about me; knowing you don't want me here. Maybe I should quit."

The suggestion is out of her mouth before the thought is even fully formed inside her brain, Amanda watching the deep frown that graces Olivia's beautiful features in response. She doesn't really mean it; has no idea what on earth she would do with herself without this job and not being able to see Olivia on a daily basis, even if spending time with her has become something of an exercise in torture.

"You're not quitting, Rollins."

Amanda is surprised by this reply, wondering if Olivia is the one who is lying now, as the other woman should be jumping at the chance to get rid of her for good, but that twinge of hope lingering beneath the negativity of this encounter and everything in general, reminding her that all is not lost.

"You'd still be leaving me short-staffed, so how would that solve anything?" Olivia points out as one perfectly manicured eyebrow arches in challenge. "You'd just be making things more difficult and complicated by doing that. It wouldn't be the least bit helpful."

"Oh," Amanda mumbles in disappointment, as she should have figured Olivia's reluctance would have to do with a staffing issue and not because she actually wants her to stay.

"We'll get through this, okay?"

"We will?" Amanda doesn't quite know what to make of this answer, her emotions so jumbled up inside her brain that she can barely think straight, unable to decide if Olivia is upset with her, which is her go-to response, or if she's trying to comfort her.

"You're a good detective and you're not throwing your career away because of one screw-up."

"Y-you think I'm a good detective?" Amanda can hardly choke the words out, stuttering in shock at this unexpected revelation as her eyebrows fly high on her forehead. "And it's been more than one screw-up," she adds sorrowfully, unsure of why she has felt the need to remind Olivia of this, and cringing in dismay at herself.

"Yes, I think you're a good detective. And sometimes our careers are a series of screw-ups before we can get ourselves on the right track. But it's still worth it to try."

"Speaking from experience?" Amanda ventures tentatively, stunned that Olivia is divulging some personal information and seems to be making an effort to bond with her.

"Well, I've had my share of ups and downs over the years. I certainly know what it's like to be down."

Amanda nods gravely in agreement as her mind fills with images of William Lewis again, and what Olivia had looked like after four hellish days in captivity. She thinks of the torment Olivia had been put through at the hands of that monster, and feels an immense wave of embarrassment and shame at being unable to hold herself together when her sergeant has clearly gone through so much worse.

As devastating as it would be to listen to, she wants Olivia to open up to her and keep sharing, although Amanda doesn't dare make the suggestion or even speak Lewis' name, the anticipation of Olivia telling her more about her life dashed with the next question.

"You've been pretty down lately, haven't you? I know things have been tough for you."

Amanda's eyebrows raise high in shock at this soft observation from her boss, and she shrugs self-consciously, unsure if she wants Olivia to keep digging deeper into all of her personal issues and demons or if she wants her to go back to her usual exasperation and aloofness. "Well, it hasn't been easy," she acknowledges quietly with a shrug and an offhanded wave. "But I'm getting through it."

"I don't hate you, you know."

Amanda freezes at this abrupt statement and blushes to the roots of her hair, chastising herself once again for the childish way she has chosen to speak to Olivia, even if she was actually being honest. Those stubborn tears that have been hovering at the edges of her lashes rise up to obscure her vision before spilling in a waterfall down her cheeks, her enormous relief at this admission entirely palpable and her voice shaking noticeably when she replies.

"You don't?"

"No, I don't," Olivia confirms gently, Amanda shivering when the older woman puts a hand on her shoulder again and slides it down to her arm to impart a tender squeeze. "I never did. You've definitely tried my patience more times than I can count and put me in some situations that I would have rather have avoided. You've made me angrier than I ever thought possible, but not to the point of hatred or anywhere close to it. In spite of everything that's happened, I do like you, Amanda. And I want you here with me, with us. You belong with your squad."

A grateful sob breaks free from the rush of tears before Amanda can stop it, and she reaches up to press her palm hard against her mouth to hold in the explosive sound.

"And just because you haven't been in my good graces lately, it doesn't mean you'll never get there," Olivia continues with a quiet vehemence. "Trust can be regained. But it takes time."

Amanda nods jerkily, overwhelmed with emotion and not trusting herself to speak as she weeps in front of the woman she looks up to and admires and might even love. She turns away from Olivia even though she wants to thank her and apologize yet again for screwing things up so badly, her humiliation overtaking anything else and feeling that intense need to hide again, seriously considering shutting herself back into the stall and locking the door.

She is stunned once more when a strong pair of hands come to rest on her shoulders and Amanda finds her body being slowly turned around and pulled into her sergeant's embrace. For a moment, she is too shocked to move, simply standing like a statue in the circle of Olivia's arms, before she leans cautiously against the taller form.

As Olivia keeps hugging her and doesn't seem eager to let go, Amanda begins melting bit by bit into her body until she is leaning heavily against her and Olivia is practically holding her up, her arms winding around the brunette's back and clutching onto her blazer tightly. Amanda loses track of time while they stand there embracing in the dingy bathroom down the hall from the squad room, reveling in the older woman's gentle touches as one of Olivia's hands smooths up and down her back while the other strokes through her hair, just the way she had imagined. Her sergeant's perfume rises around them in the air, the heavenly scent tinged with something darker and mysterious, and the combination reminding her of Olivia's personality and beauty.

"You're going to be okay," Olivia whispers into her ear, Amanda smiling shakily in return as her growing hope explodes into full-blown elation, and she can't remember the last time she had felt like this.

"I believe you," Amanda whispers back, her smile widening as Olivia tightens her hold, and this time she isn't lying, her answer joyfully honest and the future suddenly looking much brighter.