Chapter Text
Tuesday, August 23rd - Progressive Care Unit, day seven since discharge out of ICU
"What's that?" He asked as his eyes landed on a clunky yellow covered book on Amanda's overbed table. From his vantage point it looked like a textbook.
Her head turned to the right on the pillow, following his gaze. "A cookbook," she answered. "Liv brought it last night. It was a gift from Nicole. She thought I might be bored in here." Amanda reached out towards the table and gripped the spine of the book.
"I got it," he said, leaning over to pick it up before she could inadvertently strain herself. He sat back down in his chair at her bedside.
A cartoonish man with big eyes smiled back at him from the top of the book. He recognized the logo belonging to one of those How to for Dummies books. However this one was different. A yellow sticky note had been taped over a portion of the title; it covered up the for Dummies part. The loopy writing on the sticky note instead read For Angels. The edited title now existed as Italian Cooking for Angels.
He thumbed through the thick book, spotting printed images of dishes he recognized. A long handwritten note had been scribbled inside the cover. After scanning the first couple of sentences, he realized it was an apology addressed to Amanda. He stopped reading it. He assumed it included something to the effect of I'm sorry for almost getting you killed, he thought sourly.
He understood what the girl Nicole was attempting to do with the gift. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to get past the first part of the apology. He was not of the right mindset to read and accept whatever was written. Because he had to blame someone. The unknown, faceless girl that had become too rattled in an ambush, that attempted to run off, which in turn caused Amanda to follow, setting off a cascade of events that had led to this very moment was the one responsible.
How could he be so callous? Faulting someone for trying to save themselves, a frightened teenage girl no less. He wanted to get over it, but every time he tried to accept the events and move on, he felt a deep rage. It had all come at Amanda's expense. And he wasn't ready to dole out any forgiveness. Even where warranted. He closed the book without reading anything further.
The title drew his eye once more. He stared down at the written words on the sticky note. For Angels
An angel. That's what Nicole considered Amanda to be. Someone who had saved her life here on Earth. To Sonny, it had an entirely different meaning. The title only provided a bitter reminder of how close Amanda had come to becoming an angel not of this Earth. The thought of having to tell Jesse and Billie that their mother had become an angel in heaven, destined to permanently watch over them, made his stomach clench and bile race up his throat.
In some other reality, some other version of himself had lost her. The thought of facing life without her was incomprehensible. A soul-crushing path that he thanked God everyday for steering him away from.
"I dog-eared a few things," she said, calling his attention back to this reality. The reality where he still had her.
He could see several indentations where she'd folded over the pages in the corner of the book. By his count, that was more than a few. Did she think he needed to follow the recipes? Never before had she critiqued his cooking.
"Are you trying to tell me something?" He asked, attempting to keep things light.
"No." She smiled slightly. "They're for me to try."
He chuckled skeptically. "Uh huh."
Her brows twitched. "I'm serious."
He couldn't tell if this was a joke or not. Her face betrayed nothing. With the cocktail of medications they had her on, her affect sometimes stayed so blunted that he had difficulty ascertaining her true emotions. Amanda and expressing a desire to cook was a combination he'd never encountered before.
"Since when?" He asked, baffled.
"Since recently. I want you to teach me," she revealed.
"Really?" He still couldn't quite believe what she was saying.
She'd never expressed an interest in wanting to learn. In fact, she'd always brushed off his attempts to involve her. Back when Jesse was just a toddler and they all began spending more time together, he'd developed this idea in his head that teaching Amanda to cook would make her fall for him. Seduction 101 that he'd picked up from watching too many movies. An image of her tasting his homemade sauce as he held the spoon to her mouth frequently plagued him. As if the Amanda from years ago would've ever let him do that. Whenever he came over to cook, she would do the shopping ahead of time and set out the ingredients for him, but that had always been the extent of it. Before they could ever get close to anything resembling his daydreams she would shut him down quickly with a No thanks, Carisi every time. Until, eventually, he'd stopped asking her to join him. With Jesse as his sous chef, he'd gotten over his boyish fantasies and started to feel happy that Amanda relinquished control in at least one form and let him do something nice for her. Seeing her facial expressions in response to that first bite of his meal always made it all worth it anyway.
"I felt kind of stupid not being able to cook in the safe house," she admitted while playing with the threads of her blanket.
"You can cook," he told her. Not anything five-star, but she knew enough to sustain herself. She could follow directions without ruining a dish. Basics like eggs and waffles were in her arsenal. Along with, to his great insult, boxed spaghetti and jarred sauce. She could assemble a delicious salad. Lots of frozen dishes and instant sides like mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, and chicken nuggets frequented her menu before he started taking over. Which weren't all terrible things. They were edible. Just not exactly anything to boast about. He'd always exaggerated her inability to navigate the kitchen just to get her to relax and let him take on the responsibility of meal prep. It made him happy to fill the need.
"But not things that I should know how to make," she insisted. "I can't make anything without reading directions on the back of a box and following them to a T. Why pass up an opportunity to learn with the best teacher I could ever ask for?" Her eyes landed straight on him.
High praise. He knew that people saw him as a talented cook. Handfuls of comments over the years from family and friends had reinforced that idea. But coming from Amanda? Her calling him the best teacher she could ever ask for inflated his ego tenfold.
"Alright," he agreed, feeling a buzz of excitement. Having something they could look forward to doing together outside of here raised his spirits. Her request reignited his old fantasies. Only this time he didn't have to truly fantasize. He could freely touch her without the cliched excuse of standing behind her to guide her hands into chopping a vegetable properly.
The cover of the cookbook had a picture of a large chunk of garlic on it. He thought about all the various types of cookbooks in existence. This one was oddly on the nose. Either the girl Nicole was psychic or Amanda divulged something specific during their time together. "Italian, huh?"
"Yea." She shrugged. "When Nicole wasn't playing video games, we got to talking," she revealed.
"Mm," he murmured in acknowledgement. Amanda had spent a lot of time with the girl. In fact, the three days she'd spent stuck up there at the safe house had been the cause of the fight they'd had the day of the shooting.
"You might've come up once or twice." The side of her mouth quirked up.
"Ah." He nodded with an answering smile.
That's how she'd spent her time up there, in the safe house, fondly talking about their family. Sharing her hopes and dreams about learning to cook Italian from him. All the while, he'd guilt tripped her for doing her job. When she'd broken the news over the phone of having to stay in the safe house another day on that fateful Tuesday morning, he'd lost it. You just disappeared without telling the girls and now you're going to be missing for another day, he'd told her angrily.
I'm sorry, Carisi. What do you want me to do? Walk out on my job? Abandon this girl? She'd asked.
It all happened so fast. He remembered the flurry of activity with the multiple bomb threats. The joint task forces that assembled all over the city. And then SVU's number one priority became getting the witness to safety. Liv had assigned Amanda to the protective detail. As a detective, Amanda couldn't exactly refuse or delay just to talk to her kids. Which left the burden on his shoulders to tell Jesse and Billie that mommy was stuck working and that he had no idea when she would be home. Rationally, he knew it was the job, she had no choice, but emotionally he'd been pushed to his limit by the unexpected task of going it solo for the foreseeable future at the exact same time he was set to head a difficult he said-she said rape case at trial. All of that frustration, stress, loneliness, and anger had built up in those three days apart. And he'd unleashed it on her. Back and forth they'd argued, tossing hurtful accusations until she hung up on him. The shooting occurred less than two hours later.
If she hadn't made it out alive, the last time they'd spoken would've been in anger. All because of work. For a trial he wound up backing out of anyway because of what happened.
Jesus. Jesus.
He felt nauseous over it.
The smile gradually slipped from her face.
He suspected that their thoughts aligned.
They'd addressed the argument days ago and agreed to move past it. Categorized it as a silly fight born of stress and disconnect. That didn't stop him from feeling the shame threaten to swallow him whole every time the memory resurfaced. Not to mention the immeasurable guilt he would probably never move past.
She cleared her throat. "So how's your dad?" she asked, obviously wanting to change the subject.
After staying over Amanda's for the better part of a week, his father had to drive back to Staten Island for a cardiac appointment yesterday afternoon. The results had come as no surprise. At least not to Sonny.
"They told him he's gotta take a walk around the neighborhood at least 30 minutes a day. And change his diet. He's being referred to some dietician's office," Sonny shared.
Amanda winced. "I bet he didn't like that."
"Sonny, the damn doctor looked like a teenager. What does he know anyway?" He grumbled in his best imitation of his father's voice.
A chuckle bubbled out of Amanda. A real lively expression of amusement broke out over her face. He smiled fondly. Hearing her laugh, seeing her alive and well in front of him - all subtle reminders that she was okay. Things would be okay. Slowly but surely, they were getting back to normal.
Now that she'd brought up his father, he had something he wanted to address.
"Speaking of my dad," he began, a horribly pathetic segway, but a segway nonetheless. "He was actually thinking about coming back up to stay with my mom and the girls, so I can be here more."
Her smile died immediately. "He doesn't have to do that," she dismissed the idea outright like anyone showing care for her was being ridiculous.
"Yea but you know my parents. They want to spend as much time as they can get with Jesse and Billie," he said.
While it was true that his parents loved the girls, the real reason his father planned on coming back was because he'd personally asked Dominick Senior to do it. There was nothing Sonny wanted more than to be in the hospital with Amanda, but only if Jesse and Billie were being supported enough at home. No matter how much his mom said she could handle them on her own he could not forget her age and how much untapped energy the girls seemed to possess. He couldn't ignore the fact that even he felt beat after a day of chasing them around. An extra set of hands couldn't hurt. And what better way for his father to get exercise than to spend his days with Jesse and Billie. That would nip heart disease right in the bud.
There was also the other thing. His secret motivation for wanting to stay the night with Amanda.
He'd received a call yesterday from the social worker, Rebecca Wells, assigned to Amanda's case. Apparently the woman had been trying to get in touch with him in-person for several days but it never quite worked out. A case of missed connections because of her schedule and his limited time spent at the hospital on account of the girls. As a part of Amanda's recovery team, Rebecca's purpose was to provide support to any family members involved in Amanda's care. She wanted to reach out to him and give him the option to discuss any questions or concerns.
"Let me start by saying Amanda is a stellar patient. She's clearly very motivated to get home," Rebecca had shared over the phone.
That brought a proud smile to his face. "She is," he said in agreement.
"The only thing that the team has concerns about is her troubles with sleeping and the nightmares," she said.
Nightmares? His face went completely slack. His brain nearly short-circuited.
"It's normal," she added, filling the silence. "To experience these types of things after a trauma. We're working on keeping Amanda comfortable with the medications for now. Once she's out of the hospital, she said that she would be receiving treatment with an NYPD psychiatrist."
He didn't know what to say. Amanda never shared anything about nightmares with him, but this social worker clearly assumed he was up-to-date. This was....well, he didn't really know what to think. It felt as if he was drowning in open water with no sign of the shore. He needed this woman to throw him a life raft. "What um- what's your advice about how I can help with the nightmares?" He asked barely over the shock of the brand new information.
"As a loved one, the most you can do is be present. Be open and willing to listen. Give no judgement. Physically, she's doing great. She's far above track with projections. Mentally....this will be a huge mountain to climb. The effects of trauma can be unpredictable and long lasting." When he didn't respond, she continued. "I didn't mean to alarm or overwhelm you."
"No. No. I'm just- processing," he said, halfway distracted. Trouble sleeping and nightmares. How could he have missed that?
"As her main support, the most important thing to remember is that this is about Amanda. If she seems closed off or different at times it likely has nothing to do with you. It's not about trust. Or love. Or comfort. She's experiencing a flurry of emotions. This was an intensely traumatic incident. Let her set the pace. That's as simple as I can put it."
"That makes sense. Thank you." He'd ended that call feeling shaken.
Amanda couldn't go on like this. Pretending that everything was perfectly fine. Things needed to change. The first step on his end would be to show up for her. The second needed to be communication. Time to broach the topic with her. No matter how awkward or uncomfortable. He pushed past the bubble of anxiety in his throat.
"I also asked my mom to keep the girls on her own tonight while I stay here with you," he admitted.
Amanda shifted on the pillow, surprise crossing her features. "What? Why?"
He tried not to be offended by the immediate questioning like he had some sort of ulterior motive aside from loving her.
"The girls need you," she insisted before he could even come up with a response.
And you don't? He thought.
"They're perfectly fine with my mom for one night," he pointed out.
Jesse and Billie were already making plans to have as many desserts as their hearts desired tonight. Something he hadn't allowed them to do since things shifted from friendship to more with Amanda. Uncle Sonny could be the fun godfather popping in occasionally, but the Sonny dating Amanda and spending the majority of his nights at the Rollins household was different. And a nonna was someone on another level altogether. Spoiling the grandchildren was part of Serafina Carisi's job description and she took that job very seriously.
"More than fine actually. I asked Jesse and Billie how they would feel about it and they were ecstatic to kick me out for the night," he added.
"You don't need to stay." She shook her head at his idea. "I'm fine," she said with a manufactured smile.
He could see her emotionally shutting down right before his eyes. Her defenses were already raised. He knew where this resistance stemmed from. Offering to stay meant calling into question her ability to take care of herself. That wasn't his intention at all. He only wanted to support her, to provide comfort and company. In her eyes all of this equated to a personal attack instead of a way for him to show that he loved her.
I'm fine.
Surface level, he believed her. The strides she'd made during physical therapy were no less than impressive. Every doctor so far had raved about how she'd exceeded expectations. It flooded him with pride, but it also left him nonethewiser to the other things occurring whenever he wasn't around.
Ultimately, he couldn't forget what the social worker had revealed. Nightmares. Trouble sleeping. He could see the evidence now that his blinders had come off. Previously dazzled by her progress, he'd attributed the gaunt skin and deep lines of exhaustion under her eyes to her recovery and how hard she pushed herself during physical therapy. The effects of a week and a half of being in the hospital wore down even the strongest of people. Now he knew better.
He also knew her almost as well as he knew himself which meant familiarity with her tendency to keep things close to the vest. As a silent sufferer, she found it difficult to open up. Although they'd made leaps and bounds in their relationship, he still found great initial resistance in many matters. Decades worth of trauma did not heal within a year. He'd learned to be patient and with time and love Amanda always opened up to him. Which was why he'd anticipated this type of reaction from her and already planned to make this gesture about him. He needed to remove the pressure from her, so she wouldn't feel backed into a corner.
"I know you're fine. But- uh I'm not. I haven't been sleeping really. I have a hard time sleeping without you," he confessed.
Although it wasn't his actual motivation for wanting to stay overnight, it was true enough. Most nights, he spent the first hour or two tossing and turning on the couch. Alone and uncomfortable, sleep evaded him. More often than not, he ended up sneaking into Billie and Jesse's room just to sit on the floor between them. He would watch their little chests move up and down in peaceful sleep, grateful that he didn't have to crack their worlds apart with the news that their mother was gone.
Without Amanda, everything would've fallen apart. An entire family ripped apart by one bullet. His mind had drifted down that rabbit hole too many times to count. Declan and Al had more rights than him. If the two men wanted to pursue custody, they had a biological leg up over him. In the eyes of the law, Sonny Carisi was nothing to Jesse and Billie Rollins even if they thought of him as dad. Even if he loved them the same as he would if they came from his DNA. Even if only he knew what it meant when Billie started sucking her thumb. Even if only he knew how Jesse preferred her sandwiches cut into fours. Even if only he knew how to get Billie settled back into bed after a nightmare. Even if only he knew to bring along Jesse's knee pads to the park because she'd taken up rollerblading and remembered the helmet and blades, but never the pads. None of that knowledge and love would've mattered without Amanda because legally, he was nothing.
Watching Jesse and Billie, keeping them close, eased his mind. It kept his nightmares and racing thoughts away. And every morning he wound up with an aching back and sore neck from falling asleep on the floor between the girls' beds. The discomfort was no match to the relief he felt upon waking. Knowing that his girls were there with him. That is, until he thought about Amanda, all alone in the hospital. Every part of his soul cried out for her. His need to be close to her was equal in intensity to his body needing his lungs to continue breathing. But he had to remind himself this wasn't about him. This was about Amanda's recovery and what was best for her. This entire experience had taken a toll. She'd lost her independence and personal autonomy. The hospital staff told her when to do physical therapy, when to take her pills, when visitors could come, when to eat, when to change bandages - everything that happened was out of her hands. Whenever possible, he wanted to give her choices.
This was Amanda's decision. If she didn't want him to stay, then he wouldn't force it. All he could do was share his thoughts and feelings.
"I really want to be with you tonight," he admitted.
When she didn't respond, he tried to meet her eye. He found her staring at the wall, breathing hard and in distress. The numbers rapidly climbed on the vitals monitoring screen near her bed.
"Amanda?" He called her name.
She jumped, twitching so violently that her face broke out in a painful grimace.
His brows furrowed. "Hey...hey," he said softly. He reached out for her hand.
When their fingers connected, her eyes met his. They were glassy. Clearly she was upset by his suggestion.
"Hope we're not interrupting," he heard his mother's voice from behind. That warning was about as much as they could hope to get with two little girls.
Amanda's eyes flickered to the doorway. Her face went through an instantaneous change. She plastered on a brave smile for the girls.
"No. Never," she answered softly.
Back from the vending machine trip, his mother and the girls strolled in. Scratch that, his mother strolled in, the girls sprinted in ahead. It forced him to break his hold on Amanda's hand. He sat back to make room for Billie and Jesse as they bypassed him and hit the mattress.
"What did you find?" Amanda asked using her higher pitched, loving mom voice. No sign of her former upset left.
The girls giggled as they bounced and proudly held up mini bags of chips and pretzels. Billie held out a small cylindrical container of light brown liquid to Amanda. Apple juice that had clearly come from one of the nurses.
"For me?" Amanda asked as she accepted it.
"Uh huh," Billie confirmed with a wide smile.
"Wow. Thank you," Amanda said.
Meanwhile, Jesse turned her attention his way. "We didn't forget you," she told him and passed over a pack of fruit snacks.
His eyes narrowed as he took a peek over at his mother, who in turn purposefully did not meet his eye. Clearly this was a blatant attempt by her to put something in his stomach.
He pulled both of the girls onto his lap and assisted with opening their bags so they could snack and be close to Amanda without filling her bed with crumbs. The girls quickly took up all of Amanda's attention. And rightfully so. Despite visiting everyday, they still had loads of new information to bestow upon her. A daily recap of everything she'd missed at home needed to be shared. From what they had to eat last night and this morning to inconsequential comings and goings around their apartment building. Including the tale of the feral cat that had gotten loose through the lobby and the new maintenance worker's hat (that had a logo for the Braves which was also mommy's favorite team and how did he know about the Braves? If he knew the Braves then he probably met mommy before). To the girls' great dismay, the maintenance man did not know mommy nor the name Amanda Rollins.
After they finished their snacks and stories, Sonny lifted them up onto the bed. With one girl on either side of her legs, Amanda kept hold of a hand each. Her finger with the pulseox stayed on Jesse's side as the older girl better understood why it couldn't be taken off. Whereas Billie had a tendency to play with it and become upset that the hospital made mommy wear it all the time.
"Girls, want to show mommy all the pictures you made for her?" Serafina asked.
"Yea!" They responded in unison.
Serafina produced an overstuffed file folder out of her gigantic purse. As a mother of four and nonna to even more, she always had a purse that could be classified as a suitcase. Anything and everything one could ever need, she had inside her purse.
"I'll give you girls some time alone with mommy. I want to have a minute with my son too," she said, already standing by the doorway. She shot him a look that told him there was no room for argument on the matter.
Sonny brushed Amanda's shoulder in reassurance, then followed his mother out.
//tbc//