Chapter Text
The familiar bedroom was shrouded in darkness, and Amanda stared blankly up at the ceiling as the cars passing by on the streets outside became nothing more than white noise. The sheets next to her were still cold…untouched…despite the fact that it was well into the night, but she had been too distracted think about it for too long. Her mind had been too busy replaying the events of the past few days on a nearly constant loop, as if to remind her of every mistake she’d made.
Rita Calhoun stood in front of her, as calm and composed as always. She paced a few steps, her eyes never leaving Amanda’s, before stopping in front of the stand.
“Detective Rollins…you and Captain Benson were the first to speak to the accuser, Ms. Alexander, correct?”
“We were.”
“Upon filing her initial police report did Ms. Alexander ever identify my client? Or even give a physical description of her attacker at all?”
“Not at first,” Amanda responded honestly. “She told us that she didn’t get a good enough look at the person who attacked her to give an accurate description. But it’s not uncommon for details to come back to victims once they’ve had some time to deal with the initial trauma of the attack.”
“I hear you, Detective. So, just to be clear…you’re saying that when Ms. Alexander initially spoke with you and Captain Benson she had no memory of her attacker’s face. But once she spoke with you alone further into the investigation…suddenly she remembered?”
“Like I said…it’s not exactly uncommon.”
Rita nodded, pacing once more and pursing her lips as if she was deep in thought. Amanda knew better, however, Whatever she was going to ask next was surely planned well in advanced, despite the show she seemed to be putting on for the jury.
“Detective Rollins, are you in an intimate relationship with Mr. Carisi?”
An uncomfortable heat crept up Amanda’s neck, and she attempted to swallow back the dryness suddenly present in her throat.
“Objection.” Her eyes flitted over to Carisi at the sound of his voice. “Relevance?”
“Your Honor,” Rita sighed, her tone thick with condescension “Mr. Carisi might be the only one in this courtroom who doesn’t see how this is relevant.”
“Overruled, Mr. Carisi. The witness may answer.”
Amanda’s eyes shifted to the jury, and she found herself vehemently hoping that her mind was playing tricks on her when she could swear she’d seen nearly every expression there grow skeptical.
“Yes…but that’s already been disclosed to both the DA’s Office and the-”
“So the NYPD had my client in custody…your significant other was building a case against him…and suddenly Ms. Alexander could make an ID on her attacker after a conversation with you that, conveniently, no one else was present for? You’re an intelligent woman, Detective Rollins. I’m sure you can see how one could find that curious?”
“With all due respect to ADA Carisi, my job is to protect and serve. And I care a lot more about that than I do about his conviction rate,” Amanda responded with unwavering conviction. “All we spoke about during that conversation was the fact that we had a suspect in custody and that we were going to ask her to try to make an ID. Once she had some time to process what had happened to her, the details came back.”
“Time…and perhaps a little coercion.”
“Your Honor,” Carisi insisted with a frustrated huff.
“You know better, Ms. Calhoun,” the judge chastised. “The jury will disregard.”
Rita looked at the woman on the witness stand with a subtly confident twinkle in her eye, her lips twitching into what almost looked like a condescending half-smile.
“Nothing further,” she concluded with a nod.
With a deep sigh, she turned over again to look at the clock. It was already nearing 2 A.M., and her brain had not showed any signs of even preparing to power down for the night. She only attempted to close her eyes again for another minute or two before finally giving up and tossing the covers aside to get out of bed.
Slipping silently past the doors of the girls’ rooms, Amanda made her way into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water in an attempt to clear her head. It’d been nearly a week since the verdict, but all of the chaos of the ordeal felt as if it was still lingering.
A key jangled in the lock of the front door not long after she’d gotten herself situated in the kitchen, and her head turned to watch as a familiar silhouette stepped through the threshold. She could hear him stifle a yawn as he closed and locked it silently behind him.
“Still up?” Carisi asked in a whisper nearly as soon as he noticed that he wasn’t alone.
Amanda shrugged and set the untouched glass of water down on the counter before taking a seat at the table with a sigh. “Yeah,” she responded in the same hushed tone. “Figured I’m gettin’ just as much sleep out here as I was tossing and turning in there.”
After hanging his keys in what had essentially become their designated spot by the door, he made his way into the kitchen and took the seat next to her. Even in the darkness she was sure he could recognize the discontent in her expression as she looked blankly out the window and to the familiar city lights. It wasn’t as if she’d been putting any effort towards hiding her feelings as of late anyway.
Being so emotionally open was, admittedly, uncomfortable for her in the beginning, but she’d eventually come to accept the fact that he knew her entirely too well to make it worth trying to hide things away from him. He would never push it, but she could always hear the disappointment he tried to mask in his voice when she’d lie and tell him nothing was wrong. At a certain point, she’d just stopped, and she eventually found that there was a certain liberation that came along with not keeping things locked away in the recesses of her mind.
The outside world only held her focus for another silent minute before she turned her attention to her former partner, and for as much as she wanted to offer a gentle smile, or suggest that he go to bed after a late night at work, she couldn’t bring herself to.
“What keeps you up at night?” She asked instead. He studied her with a curious gaze for a long few seconds, as if trying to sort through exactly what she was asking. “Is there ever that one thing,” she began to clarify, “that — no matter what you do or how hard you try to move past it — you just…can’t shake?”
“If this is about the Marino case-”
“You know it is.”
He drew in a deep breath only to let it out in a sigh, and when he reached over to take her hand in his, she didn’t flinch. “It’s not your fault that he got off, Amanda.”
Finally looking away from him, she shook her head. “Look, Carisi, I know you wanna spare my feelings, but I’m not naive. I know if I would have just brought Kat into the damn room with me to talk to Missy about the ID…”
It was that one oversight that consumed her with guilt. The fact that she’d spoken to their victim alone was what set off the entire chain reaction. Had she just put a minute’s worth of thought into it — she couldn’t help but consider — the entire mess could have been avoided. A rapist wouldn’t still be out on the streets. Olivia wouldn’t have been upset with her. Carisi wouldn’t have been on thin ice with his boss.
“It wouldn’tve changed anything,” he finally said. “The case was shaky to begin with. We knew it wasn’t gonna be easy.”
“My testimony put that final nail in the coffin. We both know that.”
Amanda let go of his hand and stood up, taking a few paces across the kitchen floor before finally stopping and turning fully away from him to face back towards the window. This wasn’t supposed to happen, she couldn’t help but think. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
“You know…” She started again, her voice barely above a whisper. “I used to think I knew exactly what I’d do if it ever came down to having to choose between this,” she gestured vaguely between them, “and the job. And…now I’m not so sure I do.”
She didn’t turn back to look at him, but she was positive she could envision the exact way he must have been looking at her. The way that came across clearly in his voice when he responded.
“What are you saying?”
A long, tense silence hung between them, and she could practically feel his eyes on her while he waited for a response. Her eyes closed as she attempted to collect her thoughts.
“I…” she paused when she could hear him get up from where he’d been sitting, and she knew that he’d moved closer to her without having to visually check. “I’m requesting a transfer out of SVU. I’ve got the paperwork filled out…just have to hand it over to Liv tomorrow.”
“What?” Admittedly, he sounded about as shocked as she’d expected. It wasn’t like they’d ever discussed the possibility. In fact, she hadn’t brought it up to him at all, even as she’d gone through the process. “No…Rollins…Hey…” When he touched her shoulder, she finally turned to face him, only to see that his eyebrows were knitted in concern as his eyes studied hers. “What are you talking about? Can you just think about this for a minute?”
“I have,” she told him. “I’ve thought about it a lot…and it’s what I have to do.”
“Amanda…come on. You love your job.”
“God, Sonny, I do love my job. But maybe there's something I love a little more now."
She couldn’t blame him for looking as if he’d just been completely blindsided. Between the news of her wanting out of SVU and the implied admission that she loved him…after warning him time and time against saying it to her first…ensuring that he knew she wasn’t ready to say it back. Maybe, she thought, it wasn’t fair to drop all of this on him at two in the morning after a long night at work.
She could no longer keep it all tucked away, however. It had to come out. Maybe she could finally get some rest once it did.
“You’ve been tryin’ to tell me you love me for weeks and now you’re not even gonna say it back?” She asked with a weak, half-hearted chuckle.
“I’m kinda busy tryin’ to convince you not to make a huge mistake,” he told her honestly. When a sad smile touched her lips, he gently cupped her face between his hands and leaned down to kiss her. “I love you, Amanda,” he said, his voice a whisper against her lips. “But you’ve gotta reconsider this, alright?”
A part of her wanted to argue that her mind was already made up. That things would be easier this way. That they’d never have to worry about their relationship getting in the way of a conviction again.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she just closed her eyes, allowing him to kiss her briefly again before breaking it to pull her into a hug.
“Everything’s gonna work out, okay?” He promised. He had no way of knowing that, but she could swear that, in that moment, he could lead her anywhere and she would follow without question. It was terrifying and beautiful all at once. “Hey...it’s gonna be alright.”
The way that his arms wrapped around her, holding her securely against him, allowed her to breathe out for what felt like the first time all week. And, despite what was rational, she let herself listen and believe in everything he was saying to her.
Regardless of what happened — whether she took a step back and chose to remain where she was, or whether she ended up deciding that a change in environment was what was really for the best — she knew that there would always be a constant. The man she loved…he would always be right there next to her. And, as long as that was the case, she knew he was right in some capacity.
Things would be okay. As long as he was beside her, they always would be.