Chapter Text
He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s okay. Amanda repeated the words to herself like a mantra. She had ridden with Carisi in the ambulance to the ER, but they wouldn’t let her go through with him while he was being treated. He’s okay. He’s okay. She paced the waiting room restlessly, unable to get the image of Carisi’s bloodied face out of her mind. How long was it going to take to patch him up? She was just about to walk through to the treatment area, to flash her badge as the only permission she needed, when a nurse came out, scanned the waiting room, caught sight of Amanda and headed in her direction.
“We’re just about done with …” the nurse checked his clipboard, “Counselor Carisi. He’s going to be fine; it could have been much worse. You can go through to see him now if you like.”
Amanda’s legs almost buckled underneath her with relief. “Thank you so much, Nurse …” she began, looking for the nurse’s name tag.
“Jackson,” said the nurse, smiling. “Call me Sean.”
“Thank you, Sean,” Amanda repeated, not giving the nurse a second glance as she hurried down the corridor.
He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s okay.
****
The hospital had given Carisi some strong painkillers, and he had been advised to rest for the next twenty-four hours. Amanda had automatically offered to drive him home, before it had occurred to her that perhaps there was someone else that Carisi wanted to be there for him. Drive him home. Take care of him.
She knew he was seeing someone. He hadn’t told her, but, well, she was a Detective, after all. Between Fin filling her in on the kidnapping case she had missed while she was in Atlanta and the surreptitious-but-still-kind-of-obvious phone calls Carisi had been making while he stayed with her at the hospital after Jim’s stroke, it hadn’t taken much effort to work it out. She’d thought that she and Carisi had been moving towards something over the last eighteen months. Slowly finding their way to each other. Apparently not.
She was happy for him. She was. She was his friend and she wanted him to be happy. But she just couldn’t bring herself to actually ask him about her. About Nicole – that was her name. Because while her brain told her that she needed to accept this and be glad that he’d found someone, every time she thought about Carisi with Nicole, the only thing her heart could say was: But … he’s mine.
So, before they left the hospital, she asked him if there was anyone he wanted her to call for him. Please don’t say Nicole, she pleaded silently.
A slight pause, then, “Nah. Nah, there’s no-one you need to call.”
Amanda’s heart lifted, but she kept her expression neutral. “Okay, then, let’s get you home, Counselor.”
“Sounds good,” he said, giving her a small smile.
For the entire drive to Carisi’s Brooklyn apartment (a not-insignificant length of time, thanks to the usual New York City traffic), she kept stealing glances at him, sitting across from her in the passenger seat. Even though she knew he was going to be fine, she felt compelled to check that he was still there, still safe beside her.
Amazingly, there was a parking space available right out the front of Carisi’s apartment building (she’d thought that sort of thing only happened on TV or in the movies). Amanda took it gladly, and accompanied Carisi up to his place, watching him subtly as they walked up the stairs, ready to step in to support him in case he stumbled.
They reached the door of Carisi’s apartment; he unlocked it and she followed him in, guiding him immediately to the couch.
“Sit,” she told him. “The doctor said you needed to rest.”
He leaned back against the seat cushions and closed his eyes. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll just … sit here for a bit. Those pain pills are making me kind of sleepy.”
“What, not even a token protest? Who are you and what have you done with Carisi?” Amanda teased gently.
“Think you’re funny, huh?” he said drowsily. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.
Oh, not fair, Sonny. I have no defence against those dimples, Amanda thought. “Why don’t you just lie down for a bit, and I’ll get you something to drink. Would you like a soda, or juice? Water?”
“Some water would be nice; thanks,” he said, arranging his long body on the couch and closing his eyes once more.
Amanda went into his kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. She returned to the living room to find Carisi fast asleep; strands of his hair, now more silver than its original brown, flopped loosely over his forehead. Her heart contracted.
She wasn’t ready yet to put a name to what it was she felt for him (even though she knew damn well what it was). But … she was going to have to tell him. Or show him. Or do something to let him know that her feelings for him were … more. And she was going to have to do it soon, otherwise it might be too late. If it wasn’t already.
Then she had another terrible thought. What if … what if he didn’t feel the same? She remembered an almost-kiss and a tipsy good-night outside a West Virginia hotel room. Remembered Carisi telling her that she deserved to be happy, deserved to be taken care of. Remembered an “I got you” and an enfolding, comforting hug in an elevator. Countless smiles, spaghetti dinners, words of support. She’d thought, all these years, that there’d been something, unspoken though it was. What if she’d been wrong?
After setting the water bottle down on on the coffee table next to the couch, Amanda pulled a throw from the back of the couch and laid it gently over the sleeping Carisi. She checked her watch; it was still early afternoon. Plenty of time to run an errand before coming back to check on Carisi later. Amanda had something she needed to do today that couldn’t wait. She needed to visit Henry Mesner, and let the little shit know in no uncertain terms exactly what would happen to him if he tried anything like that stunt he’d pulled in the courtroom again.
Amanda wrote a note for Carisi, letting him know that she would be back later, and left it on the coffee table next to him, so that he would see it straight away if he woke while she was gone. Then, she let herself out of the apartment, closing the door quietly and locking it behind her. She walked to her car, face set with determination. Oh, yes, Mesner was going to listen to what she had to say.
And then … well, soon, she was going to let Carisi know how she felt. She just had to figure out how.