Work Text:
This case had been a disaster from the start.
The call came in barely thirty minutes into Amanda's shift on Monday morning; a teenage girl picked up by patrol officers screaming in the lobby of a boutique hotel - once the officers had gotten her into the squad car they’d taken one look at her, one glance at each other, and called SVU.
As Fin grabbed his coat Amanda had just enough time to throw back the sub-par coffee she’d poured herself when she got to the precinct that morning, desperate for caffeine after a rough night with Billie had stolen her sleep and a last minute show-and-tell announcement from Jesse had robbed her of time to meet Sonny for coffee before work.
Fin drove out to Bellevue and Amanda drummed her fingers on the window pane impatiently as they stalled in mid-morning traffic. They hadn’t known then the urgency of the case - or rather, the trouble the traffic jam would land them all in later on.
Within minutes of arriving at the hospital Amanda knew this was going to be a difficult case. The patrol unit might not have mentioned it when they called it in, but there’s no way they hadn’t known the young girl now sat on a hospital bed. The mascara stained tear tracks marring her face didn’t hide the features of the senator’s daughter who had been on the front page of every newspaper just two weeks earlier after she’d posted a video to her social media accounts - a damning account of the behaviour of sons of some of the city’s most prominent figures.
Elodie Landry had named and shamed a dozen teenagers and young men, had eluded to everything from misogynistic commentary to sexual assault, and though her father’s people had pulled the video, it had already gone viral and no amount of objections that she was a minor, or accusations of libel, were going to make it go away.
And now here Elodie was; a victim all over again.
The eyes of the city were on SVU and the case was a train wreck from the second the patrol officer ducked out of the hospital room to take a call, leaving Elodie alone with her phone whilst Amanda and Fin were crawling through traffic trying to get there.
They had to treat it like any other case; Fin spoke with the patrol unit while Amanda interviewed Elodie.
“Can you tell me how you got to the hotel lobby?”
Elodie swiped angrily at her tears, “I took the elevator down from his room.”
“Whose room?”
“Brody Monroe,” she said, like it was big revelation.
Amanda nodded, though the name wasn’t familiar, “So you were with someone you know. Is Brody a friend?”
Elodie shook her head, “No, I- he’s Eric Monroe’s son, I know him but he’s not my friend. He- he attacked me.”
The daughter of a senator being assaulted by the son of his political rival. No, definitely not an easy case.
But they’d worked it - called Liv, called Sonny. They’d picked up Brody Monroe from his dorm at Hudson as discretely as possible, but it turned out their discretion was for nothing.
While they were interviewing Monroe - and Liv was fielding calls from the mayor’s office - Elodie Landry was posting another video; one she’d recorded from her hospital bed earlier that morning, giving her account of the night before in more detail than she’d volunteered during her interview. And accusing not only Brody, but also his father.
Fin was pressing Brody about his version of events - that he and Elodie had ditched a fundraiser their parents were speaking at and sneaked off together Romeo and Juliet style - when Liv pulled them out of the interrogation room.
“His lawyer here?” Fin said; the same frustration Amanda felt about being pulled out mid-interview reflected on his face.
“Not yet,” Liv shook her head, gesturing over her shoulder to where Sonny was on the phone, his expression clearly not indicating good news. Liv picked up the tablet that was resting on her desk and played Elodie’s video for the two of them.
Amanda’s gut twisted, “She didn’t say anything about Eric Monroe when I spoke to her,” she sighed.
“News outlets have already picked it up,” Liv told them.
Sonny hung up the phone and turned to look at them, “That was Hadid,” he said with a sigh, “Please tell me you got somethin’ outta Brody.”
Fin shook his head, “Oh sure; regular love story - Daddy doesn’t approve so they had to sneak out the party. All consensual.”
Sonny opened his mouth to respond but they were interrupted by a knock at the door; Monroe’s lawyer had arrived, along with his parents.
And the case had continued like that - wrecking ball after wrecking ball. An airtight alibi for Monroe senior, press coverage that was hindering the investigation at every turn, and a third video recorded by Elodie once she was at home with her parents, “The NYPD won’t arrest Eric Monroe, they think this is some game, but it’s not a game to me; it’s my life and the Monroes ruined it.”
Tempers were beginning to fray as Tuesday wore on and they were inundated with calls from anybody with a faintly invested interest in the case, and with no hope of moving forward.
Amanda and Liv interviewed Elodie again, hearing the full story this time, “But Elodie, it’s important you don’t release another video,” Liv said, firm and soothing at the same time, “We want to help you.”
And they were trying, but the evidence was minimal and the Monroes had lawyered up - getting near them was a battle in itself.
“Carisi,” Liv sighed, “Can you get us warrants for Eric and Brody’s DNA?”
“I can try, but Eric Monroe has an alibi, and half his campaign donors are on the bench - getting a judge to sign a DNA warrant with evidence like this is hard enough without-”
“If we don’t get the warrant, this case is done,” Amanda said, impatience rattling her, “If you could just do-”
“Do my job?” Sonny snapped back, “Maybe you guys could do your jobs and get evidence before the press do, how’s that sound?”
“We are doing our jobs, counsellor, you’re the one dragging your heels on this.”
“Okay,” Liv cut across them both sharply, “You two getting riled up isn’t helping anyone. Carisi, if you can’t get a warrant for Monroe senior, get one for Brody. If Eric’s involved there’ll be a familial match.”
Sonny sighed, giving Liv a sharp nod before stalking from the room without looking in Amanda’s direction. Amanda dropped down onto an empty chair, frustration and a little guilt swimming through her while they waited to find out what their next step would be.
They both carried the tension home with them. They didn’t argue about the case, but there was an anger, a frustration, simmering between the two of them, not completely spent by their barbed words in the squad room.
Amanda had half expected him to go back to his own apartment and let the bitterness fester overnight; she’d resigned herself to cooking a dinner Jesse would probably refuse to eat and lying alone in a bed that for years hadn’t felt too big, but now felt cavernous whenever he wasn’t there beside her. But she heard Sonny’s key in the lock while she was staring at the contents of her fridge wondering what she could throw together, and some of the weight that was pressing on her heart eased up.
Sonny greeted the girls first - a kiss to the top of Jesse’s head while she sat at the dining table carefully tracing letters in her school workbook, and a hug for Billie as he lifted her into the air before settling her on his hip. Amanda watched him carefully, like a rabbit in headlights, not wanting to make the wrong move. But he was there, and that had to be a good sign.
The kiss he pressed to her cheek was a little stiff, but she gave him a weak smile, grateful for him even while there was a bad taste in her mouth over the way they’d snapped at each other just hours earlier.
Sonny set Billie down on the kitchen counter, one hand inches from her in case she fell, and he gently nudged Amanda away from the fridge, “I’ll cook,” he said. It almost sounded like an apology.
It wasn’t until the girls were in bed that she got the opportunity to return the favour; there was a part of Amanda that didn’t want to apologise, that didn’t want to be the bigger person or admit she was wrong, but there was another voice in the back of her mind - his voice - repeating words Sonny had read to her not four months ago that had set them on this path they now walked - you fight, then you make up.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said, giving him a weak smile from the other end of the couch.
He nodded, “It’s not a big deal.”
They sat in silence a moment and it was the most uncomfortable Amanda had been around him in a long time. She hated it.
He clearly hated it too, because before she came up with something to say to break the tension, he shuffled along the couch, filling the divide between them, “Listen, Rollins-”
“I didn’t think you were gonna come over,” Amanda said quietly, biting her lip apprehensively.
“I thought about it,” he admitted, “But I wanted to be here.”
When they woke on Wednesday morning, the air was clear. Amanda pressed a kiss to Sonny’s shoulder before slipping out of bed, and when he joined her in the kitchen a few minutes later his arm wound around her waist like everything bitter was long forgotten.
Amanda turned in his embrace, tugging him down for a lazy kiss that was interrupted before it could escalate into something they didn’t have time for, Jesse standing in the kitchen, hands on her hips, “It’s breakfast time,” she scolded, “Not kissin’ time.”
Sonny laughed as he pulled back, pressing his forehead to Amanda’s for the briefest of moments before stepping away, moving around Amanda to ruffle Jesse’s already sleep-mussed hair, “And good morning to you too, little Rollins.”
“Kissin’ is better than fighting,” Jesse said knowingly as she climbed up to sit at the table, “But I’m hungry.”
Amanda and Sonny exchanged a look - a guilt that Jesse had picked up on the tension between them last night, and relief that they had moved past it without any lingering scars.
When Sonny left for the office after breakfast Amanda kissed him goodbye and told him to have a good day - told him in that moment before she got to work and she had to be a cop fighting for justice and not a girlfriend who just wanted her partner to be happy.
By mid-morning the DNA warrant still hadn’t come through, but the lab had given them some less than promising news, “No hits on the DNA; not even to each other. These assailants are not related.”
“Great,” Fin said, “So either Elodie’s lying or she’s leaving something out.”
“So go speak to her again,” Liv said, “Go back through her story and find out where the cracks are.”
Fin grumbled on the drive up to the Landry family home, “This case is going nowhere fast; whoever Elodie names next isn’t gonna want to give up their DNA without a warrant either.”
“Give Carisi a break,” Amanda said sharply, looking away from the window.
“I don’t wanna hear about you and the counsellor kissing and making up,” Fin said, his tone still disgruntled.
“Fin, come on,” Amanda sighed.
“What?” he pulled the car up to park outside a nondescript townhouse, but neither of them got out of the car right away, “Look, I told you I’m happy for you and I meant it, but that doesn’t mean I got to like him being a prosecutor all of a sudden.”
“He’s a good lawyer, Fin,” Amanda said, an instinct to defend Sonny tight in her chest, despite knowing she hadn’t been on his side just yesterday.
“Yeah, yeah,” Fin got out of the car and Amanda followed suit. He looked at her over the top of the car as he closed his door, “But this case isn’t just about his conviction rate.”
“You know he doesn’t think like that,” Amanda sighed, walking up the front steps.
Fin stopped just behind her as she rang the doorbell, “His boss does.”
Elodie’s story didn’t deviate - she had gone back to Brody’s hotel room just to hang out, and the next thing she knew she was waking up with him on top of her, then Eric Monroe had repeated his son’s misdeeds.
“Elodie,” Amanda said gently, “Was there anyone else in the room?”
“What?” she shook her head, “No, no I didn’t see anyone else.”
As Elodie’s distress grew, Jack Landry interceded, putting an end to the interview. As he saw them out he stopped in the entryway, a dark look in his eyes, “What makes you so sure Eric Monroe didn’t do this?”
“We’re not saying that,” Fin assured him, “We just have to go where the evidence takes us.”
By the time they got back to the precinct Jack Landry had already given an interview to the press, spouting off a damning indictment about the NYPD’s indifference to his daughter’s plight that had Amanda both anger and exasperated.
“Got the warrant,” Sonny said as he walked into the squad room; the relief on his face dropping when he caught sight of their expressions, “What now?”
Amanda nodded towards the screen, paused on Landry’s interview, “Oh, you know, we don’t care about Elodie getting assaulted, the NYPD are in Monroe’s pocket,” she sighed.
“The warrant?” Liv asked, looking for some small piece of good news.
“For Brody Monroe’s DNA.”
Amanda wasn’t expecting the DNA result to be of any use - Brody was admitting to having sex with Elodie, his DNA would just give Sonny the tough task of proving it wasn’t consensual, and give them a jump point for questioning him about the other semen sample. Except that the DNA was not a match to Brody Monroe.
“50% familial match,” the lab tech said, “A sibling… or a parent.”
“Eric Monroe,” Fin said, shaking his head. “You wanna call Carisi?”
“Y’know, you could call him,” Amanda countered after she thanked the lab tech and they walked out into the hallway; Fin just looked at her - her phone was in her hand and she was already dialling Sonny’s number.
“You lied to us, Brody,” Amanda said, taking a seat opposite him in the interview room, Fin sitting beside her.
“Did I?” Brody said, leaning forward on the desk; he had the air of someone who was very much used to getting what he wanted, and who wasn’t used to being called out when he screwed up.
“DNA doesn’t lie,” Fin said, “What happened, you not up to the job?”
Brody raised his hands in protest, “Woah, no, nothing like that. I don’t have any problems there.”
“I’m sure,” Amanda said, giving him a tight smile, “So can you explain this?”
He sighed, “I didn’t sleep with her… she wanted to, but I wasn’t into her so,” he shrugs. “We had some drinks from the mini bar, hung out. I fell asleep. Next thing I know she’s all over instagram screaming in the hotel lobby.”
“So why lie? Why not just say nothing happened?”
Brody gave Amanda a long look before he spoke, “Have you met my dad? He’s so pissed at the idea of me screwing Jack Landry’s daughter. It was perfect,” he shrugged, “And I knew I didn’t rape her so.”
“You know it’s a crime to obstruct an investigation, right?”
He glanced at his lawyer, who gave a small nod, “You wanna charge me with that, good luck.”
“The thing is Brody,” Amanda said, leaning on the table herself, “Somebody raped Elodie Landry in your hotel room. So unless you tell us who you were partying with, that obstruction charge is only going to get worse for you.”
“I wasn’t partying with anyone. Look, the party was boring, Elodie was the only other person there under forty-five. So we left, that’s it.”
With Brody giving nothing else away and Jack Landry telling anyone who’d listen that SVU weren’t doing anything to help, the case was stalling while they waited on a warrant Sonny wasn’t even confident he’d get, not with all the influential people Monroe had in his back pocket.
When they got home that evening - Amanda thought of it as them both going home even if he still technically had his own apartment that he visited on occasion - they were both worn down with the frustration of dead end after dead end. It was one thing not having any leads, being tied up in an investigation that was going nowhere, and another to know exactly who the perp was but not be able to touch them.
They didn’t talk about work; bringing cases home with them was inevitable, both because of their workload and the emotional strain their jobs took sometimes, but they tried to leave as much of it at the door as they could. Instead, Sonny abandoned his briefcase in the hall and swept Jesse up, lifting her onto the kitchen counter and letting her choose ingredients for dinner, all his attention on her. Amanda loved having him here, loved feeling like the missing piece of their lives was slotting into place, and she also loved the way he showered the girls in attention - because they both adored it, and because it meant that Amanda could do the same. While Sonny kept Jesse busy cooking up a storm, Amanda played with Billie - her two-year-old expertly dictating exactly where Momma had to put the cars and the dolls she was playing with.
It was a few hours of, if not quite tranquillity, then happiness - a few hours of time with her babies, forgetting about the dark that was out in the world, that there were men who hurt teenage girls and felt no remorse, that there were people who did unspeakable things and got away with it.
Once the girls were tucked up in bed with goodnight kisses and wishes for sweet dreams, there was time for a different kind of happiness; for revelling in the fact that she could half-watch, half-doze through a movie with Sonny’s arm around her and kisses pressed to her hair; for putting aside their tough day when they slipped under the blankets and drifted off to sleep curled into each other.
The warrant they had been waiting for was with them first thing on Thursday morning and they arrested Eric Monroe without any attempt at discretion. He denied everything right up until the DNA results were slapped down in front of him, and then his story changed.
He told them how he’d met Elodie at the party, how they had slipped into an empty bathroom and he’d relived his youth. He was shameless at being caught out having sex with a fifteen-year-old, made quips about being as young as the woman you feel and throughout the story, Amanda’s skin crawling with every word, he’d maintained that it was consensual. He was so confident - the same kind of arrogance that his son emanated, and Amanda bubbled with fury and a determination to find the holes in his story and shine the light through them.
He even tried pushing the blame back to his son, “Whatever happened between Elodie and I, she enjoyed. What Brody did with her afterwards is on him.”
And it wasn’t until later that day that they had any leads on the third guy in all of this, not until Fin got a call from TARU after they’d been combining through the meagre footages from the hotel - cameras only in the restaurant, bar and lobby, nothing to point to who had gone in and out of Brody Monroe’s room.
“TARU found something on the security tapes,” Fin said, “They just sent it over,” he spun his laptop around to face Amanda and Liv as he pressed play; the footage was from the lobby, and Fin paused the tape as a tall, familiar man came into view - a man that had spent much of the day sat in the squad room waiting for his boss to get out of interrogation. “Jonathan Doyle - Monroe’s security guard.”
“So, what now?” Liv asked as Sonny joined them in her office an hour later.
He had a grim expression on his face; he knew his words weren’t going to be well received, “Hadid doesn’t want me to take this to trial. There are two councilmen and a fire chief all swearing up and down they were with Monroe at the time of the assault, and Doyle isn’t going to flip; Monroe’s paying for his attorney, taking care of his kids.”
“She wants you to give him a deal? Elodie is fifteen,” Liv said, frowning at Sonny, “He had sex with her and then he lied about it.”
“And his lawyer will claim consensual sex,” Sonny countered, “If I go for anything higher than sexual misconduct we’re treading a thin line on a conviction.”
Amanda turned to look at him, “But he-”
Carisi held up a hand, cutting her off, “I know.”
Part of Amanda knew she should bite her tongue; she didn’t want to argue with him again, didn’t want another evening of withheld words and uncertain glances. But the other part of her knew that Sonny Carisi hadn’t fallen in love with a woman who nodded her head and agreed with his every decision, so she prodded back, “You know this isn’t the first time he’s done this, and statutory rape probably won’t even dent his career. Elodie deserves better than that.”
“I know,” Sonny said impatiently, “I know, but there’s a bigger picture here.”
“Your conviction rate?” Amanda spat out, echoing the words she’d called Fin out on saying just a day earlier. She regretted it instantly when she saw the expression on Sonny’s face - hurt mixed with betrayal. She sighed, “I didn’t mean that.”
He nodded, not meeting her eye, “I need to go,” he said, and once again Amanda watched his retreating form whilst avoiding the glances of her captain and her sergeant.
Fin coughed uncomfortably and Amanda rounded on him, “You said it first,” she said sharply.
“Yeah,” Fin nodded, “And you defended him.”
When she got home that evening, Amanda wasn’t worried that Sonny wouldn’t show up. He’d text her an hour ago to say he’d be a little late, nothing in his typed message to indicate he was still stung by her words.
Still, she kept throwing glances at the door, jumping at every footstep she heard in the hallway, even though she knew the sound of his approach by now. She worried her lip until she tasted blood. She’d been harsher than she meant to be, and it had only been a few months, things were still delicate. Regret was the flavour of Amanda’s life all too often.
Through her rumination though, she talked herself out of her panic; their foundation was solid, built on seven years of partnership, of push and pull and of loving each other from a distance, however small. They’d withstand this; they had withstood worse. Then you make up.
She was brought out of her thoughts by Jesse’s shout from the living room, “Mommy, why’s Uncle Sonny on TV?”
“What?” Amanda put down the dishcloth she was holding and crossed the room, glancing over at the television; whatever cartoon Jesse had been watching had ended, replaced by the news - and there he was, her partner’s face filling the screen as he stood outside the courthouse, press and reporters around him.
Billie stood up from where she had been playing with her blocks, toddling over to the TV and obscuring Amanda’s view as she reached out a hand for the image of her godfather’s face on the screen, “It’s Uncle Sonny,” she said, eyes wide.
“Come here, baby,” Amanda said, gently pulling Billie away from the television so that they could all watch as Sonny swallowed back nerves that someone who didn’t know him as well as Amanda did might have missed. He stood a little taller, and his voice was confident as he responded to queries from the assembled press, “The Manhattan District Attorney’s Office is proceeding with charging Eric Monroe with rape in the second degree,” he said, and Amanda could see the conviction in his eyes.
He got to Amanda’s apartment an hour later, and was immediately greeted by grins from the girls, Billie pointing excitedly at the television as Jesse wound an arm around his leg, “We saw you on TV!”
“You watched that, huh?” he asked, a hand on Jesse’s head gently guiding her away from him so that they could walk into the apartment itself. He glanced over at Amanda, “Mommy too?”
Amanda nodded, “You were good up there. You sounded like you-”
He crossed the gap between them, the kiss he pressed to her cheek not nearly as stilted as the one he’d given her after their last disagreement, “I sounded like someone who had some sense yelled into him,” he said, “An’ a little like someone whose boss has called an 8am meeting for tomorrow mornin'.”
He joined her on the couch hours later, after another phone call with Hadid - who herself had just gotten off the phone with the deputy mayor. He sighed as he sank down next to her, “Well, Hadid’s pissed. I’m not sure I’ll have a job come Monday morning, but-”
“You did the right thing,” Amanda said soothingly; she reached across the gap between them on the couch and threaded her fingers through his, “But I’m sorry I pushed you into it.”
“No you’re not,” he said, but there was no anger in his tone, “And you were right, anyway.”
“Not all of it,” she said, “I know you’re not even paying attention to your conviction rate and it was a low blow.”
“It's okay,” he said, squeezing her fingers lightly, “We’re gonna fight, Amanda. We’re gonna disagree, especially at work… we just gotta learn not to bring it home with us.”
“But making up’s the best part, right?” she said, a teasing lilt to her tone that melted away some of the tension behind his eyes.
The smile that broke across his face as he leaned down set butterflies fluttering in her stomach, and if there was any fragment of hostility still lingering between them it was instantly abandoned as his lips found hers and she sunk back into the couch cushions.
Elodie Landry’s case was still a tough sell, though. Amanda found Sonny in his office, head in his hands; court was out of session already, and although Liv had filled Amanda in on what had happened, she stepped into his office with a soft smile and asked, “How’d it go?”
“Hey,” he looked up at her, the barest flicker of a smile on his face at the sight of her, and he gestured to the chair opposite him, waiting for her to sit down, “Doyle pled guilty, but the judge vacated the charges against Monroe, I should’ve listened to Hadid and pled him down to statutory rape.”
Amanda shook her head, “You fought for Elodie, Carisi. No one else was willing to go to bat for her, to listen to us… you were trying to get justice.”
“Yeah,” he sighed, “Suffolk County are looking into the accusations Elodie made in her first video; they’re talking to other girls.”
“We can’t win ’em all, Counsellor,” Amanda said, reaching across his desk and squeezing his hand.
“No, you’re right,” he let out another sigh, running his free hand across his face, “And Senator Landry’s stepping down; maybe some time out of the limelight will be good for Elodie, help her start to move on.”
“And you and I… “ she said, moving her hand from his and her gaze to his face, “We can move on too.”
He frowned, “From what?”
“Our first fight,” Amanda said, suddenly uncertain.
“It’s not really the first,” he said, a smile playing at the corner of his lips, “I seem to remember you yellin’ at me in the squad room about-”
“Yeah, well,” she cut him off, all her concerns washed away with that look in his eyes, “I was hung up on you then.”
“Oh,” he raised an eyebrow, pointing at her, “You’re not anymore?”
“I definitely still am,” she smiled, standing up to move around his desk; he followed suit, meeting her halfway, his hands resting gently on her hips as he ducked his head and their lips met.
The case might have been a disaster - but the rest, not so much.