This is a sequel to "Touch", so please read that one first. :) Since the previous story was told from Olivia's point of view, this one is told from Amanda's. Just a reminder that Noah and Jesse don't exist in this story.

xxx

"And I'm caught

I forget all that I've been taught

I can't keep calm, I can't keep still

Pulled apart against my will"

xxx

It is after midnight and Amanda Rollins is pacing restlessly around her apartment, her heart hammering in her chest and sweat beaded on her brow, despite the chilly temperature, and she clenches and unclenches her fists several times in a row, recognizing the impending panic attack and trying to make it stop before it gets out of control. She has been off work for the past week and still has another week to go, and she is going absolutely stir crazy, the boredom and her own dark thoughts threatening to drive her right out of her mind. She feels like she is going to start bouncing off the walls soon, and is very close to driving over to Olivia's place and getting down on her knees to beg her boss to let her come back early.

It had been suggested to her to take some time off after she had revealed the details of the assault that had taken place a couple of weeks prior, and at the time she had agreed, not wanting to make waves after Olivia had been so kind and helpful to her, but now she is wondering why she has allowed herself to take a step back from the job she loves, from the co-workers who are her family. from her reason for getting out of bed in the morning, her purpose in life. Her natural instincts to put up a fight and argue her position are jumping to the forefront, as she feels trapped and so very lonely in her small apartment, but it is Friday night, another weekend now upon them, and even if Olivia lets her come back early, she still has a couple of days to wait anyway.

She knows she should be taking this time to recover, to try to get back on her feet, and she has been going to meetings every single day to try to make the overwhelming gambling urges stop, has actually thought about going to see a therapist but has not yet taken the steps to secure a consultation appointment for herself. She has been in contact with her co-workers over the phone and in person about her case, but just as she had suspected, they are not getting far. The man who had hurt her in that alley has remained a faceless, nameless ghost in the wind and she doesn't hold out much hope of catching him, despite her teammates' overly optimistic attitudes and reassurances. She knows they are just placating her, are trying to keep her spirits up, but it is not working, and she has felt herself sliding further into the dark hole she has been descending into these past several weeks.

She feels trapped in this apartment, is desperate for some fresh air but too afraid to go outside, convinced that the faceless, nameless ghost they are hunting is going to show up all of a sudden to hurt her again, to throw her life into a further tailspin, and that she will cower in fear once more, instead of going after him, arresting him, and getting him off the streets, like she had failed to do last time. Deep down she knows that she was in shock after it had happened, that she wasn't able to process everything she had been through, that the first thought in her mind was that she was grateful to still be alive and relatively unharmed, but it doesn't stop that guilt and regret that pull tight around her, threatening to choke her; that she hadn't done her job, that she had let him get away, that he might do the same thing to someone else.

Amanda's gaze falls to the phone on her nightstand and she reaches over to pick it up, scrolling through the names, trying to spot the one she is looking for. She doesn't feel quite as bad as she would have if it was a work night, but there is still a sharp stab of guilt as she brings up Olivia's name on the screen. She knows it has been a long week for her squad, especially since she has been absent, and consequently hasn't been able to do her share of the work, and she is quite sure that her boss wants nothing more than to just relax and have some quiet time to herself.

Amanda takes note of the late hour and realizes that Olivia is most likely sound asleep instead of enjoying the time to herself, and the hesitation is growing stronger as she stares at the older woman's name on the screen, her thumb hovering in mid air, trying to decide what to do. She blows out a breath she didn't know she had been holding and then bites her lip, feeling torn in two, the desperate need she has for the other woman to be with her so she is not alone with her thoughts, warring with the need to just leave her be and let her have some peace and quiet.

Amanda has been trying to pull back for the past several days, trying her best to reign in her sudden disturbing neediness and clinginess, after spending the entire previous weekend at Olivia's apartment. Her boss had graciously let her stay at her place after Amanda had revealed what had happened to her in the alley outside the gambling club, and has reassured her over and over that she can call or text at any time, but she has been doing her best not to.

She stands there on shaking legs, staring down at the phone in her hand, the letters of Olivia's name swirling before her eyes, and she can feel her resolve crumbling as the anxiety ratchets up another notch, knows she can't get through this night by herself, that the panic is only going to grow worse and more out of control, and that the only person in the world that she wants right now is Olivia.

She types in a quick word, her text as hesitant as she feels:

"Hey..."

Amanda jumps, completely startled, when her phone rings in her hand not one second later, Olivia Benson flashing across the screen. Her throat suddenly feels constricted, like it is hard to swallow or take a breath, and she feels that now familiar panic wrapping its embrace more tightly around her, and she finds that she cannot answer the phone, the guilt of relying on this woman, her boss no less, too much to bear.

Everything is suddenly crashing down on her, the vivid memories of the assault, the dangerous need she has to gamble, the even greater need she has for Olivia to be with her and comfort her; and her intense shame for all three is threatening to drown her.

The phone rings several times before stopping abruptly, and an instant text comes in:

"Amanda, what's wrong? Why didn't you pick up the phone?"

Her chest is tight as she types in an answer.

"Because I can't talk."

The response is clearly confused.

"What do you mean? Why can't you talk?"

She squeezes her eyes shut before opening them again and fixing them on the screen in front of her.

"Because I can't breathe."

The phone immediately rings again and this time Amanda picks it up, just holding it to her ear, breathing in and out in quick harsh pants, and it briefly occurs to her how obscene this must sound from Olivia's end, the heavy breathing from her subordinate possibly coming off as inappropriate, perverted, and again she swallows down that wave of guilt, shaking her head at how pathetic she is, trying to shake off the sudden, intense fear that Olivia will hang up on her in disgust.

But when she hears Olivia's warm voice in her ear, devoid of judgment, not an ounce of disgust apparent, she feels an incremental amount of relief and she closes her eyes as she listens to the other woman speak. "Hey, sweetheart, are you having a bad night?" Olivia's voice is gentle and soothing, and Amanda feels tears spring to her eyes.

She finds herself nodding in answer to her boss' question and then foolishly realizes that Olivia can't actually see her, and suddenly finds her voice again; is choking out the words before she can stop herself. "I need you, Liv."

The response from the other woman is simple and instantaneous. "Okay, Amanda, I'll be right there."

The relief she now feels is enormous and is edging out some of the guilt and shame, as Amanda hangs up the phone and continues to pace, waiting impatiently for Olivia's arrival. But it is not enough to edge out the panic, and the all-consuming anxiety is coiled firmly around her now, invading her brain and her body, overwhelming all of her senses.

The shadows in her apartment seem darker now, more threatening, and she abandons her pacing to curl up into a ball on the couch, only moving again when the buzzer sounds loudly, shattering the silence of the room. She talks into the speaker, telling Olivia to just come right in when she gets upstairs, and then unlocks the door before dashing quickly back to the couch, resuming her spot and huddling into the cushions, needing to feel safe.

When Olivia comes in the door, Amanda has a sudden primal urge to throw herself into the older woman's arms, so she roots herself to her spot on the couch, clenching her fists tightly, trying to stop the blush of embarrassment from spreading across her pale cheeks.

"Hey, honey, how are you doing?" Olivia asks softly, taking off her jacket and draping it over a nearby chair. "Are you still having trouble breathing?"

Amanda nods wordlessly, and the older woman takes a step toward her. Despite it being the middle of the night now, Olivia still looks immaculate, dressed in dark jeans and a striped sweater, her hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, gold hoop earrings glinting in the dim light, the makeup on her face subtle yet perfect, and Amanda is beginning to think that she hadn't pulled the other woman from a sound sleep after all; that her boss looks as if she hasn't even been to bed yet. Her brow wrinkles slightly as she wonders what the other woman had been doing; what she has pulled her away from.

She has a brief flash of Olivia and Tucker in the hospital waiting room after Dodds had been shot, Olivia sleeping on Tucker's shoulder, and she bites her lip, feeling that guilt pierce through her again, the fact that her boss has a life outside of work, outside of her colleagues' needs and challenges, and she is taking her away from it. There is another feeling there too, bubbling just beneath the surface, and she tries to push it down, tries to ignore it, as it feels strangely like jealously, the odd sensation of not wanting to share Olivia with anyone else, of being so possessive of her time. This thought bothers her immensely, as this is not who she is, has never been this person before; so needy and clingy and dependent on someone else.

"Honey, are you okay?" Olivia asks gently, her hands raised slightly in the air now, and Amanda peers up at her through messy clumps of golden hair, realizing how she must look to the other woman, all hunched up and curled into herself on the couch, her position defensive, her posture radiating fear.

She tries to loosen up a bit, not wanting her boss to think she is afraid of her, because that couldn't be further from the truth. She wants Olivia to hold her again, like she had so many times the previous weekend, is craving the physical comfort, the gentle touches, and wants the other woman to banish the terrible thoughts from her brain, the incredible cravings to do things she shouldn't be, but her words are stuck in her throat again, unable to voice what she so desperately needs.

Olivia is looking at her intently now, her dark gaze penetrating into her own, and for a moment there is complete silence in the room as they regard each other, and Amanda is internally relieved when the older woman seems to read her mind, seems to know exactly what she wants, because Olivia takes another cautious step toward the couch.

"Is it okay if I sit with you?" her boss questions softly, voice patient and kind.

Amanda nods slowly, still unable to find her voice, and she wonders if they will have to resort to texting again, like they had at the drive-in movies, since her words seem stuck in her throat, her lips glued together, and she breathes in deeply through her nose, feeling like the oxygen is being sucked out of the room. She cannot seem to get a handle on this ever-present feeling of panic, like everything is spiraling out of control, and she closes her eyes, willing herself to calm down, to be in the present here with Olivia, and not allow her mind to wander to less pleasant topics. Sometimes when the anxiety takes her too deeply into her brain, she can practically hear the rain pounding down in that tiny alley, can smell the cigarette smoke in the air, can feel the man behind her, doing unspeakable, painful things to her body while she is pressed against the cold brick wall.

"Hey, Amanda, you're safe, sweetheart," Olivia whispers, and she is surprised at how in tune the older woman seems to be with her, like she knows exactly what Amanda needs and what she is thinking about.

She is aware of Olivia easing herself down carefully behind her on the couch, can feel her boss' intense gaze on her back, but is frozen to the spot, unable to turn around and look her in the eye. She is concentrating very hard on taking in enough deep breaths to keep from passing out, and the room around her wobbles for a moment, the walls seeming to shimmer slightly, as a wave of dizziness overtakes her.

"You can breathe," Olivia assures her quietly, like she is aware of the strangling hands of anxiety that are wrapped around Amanda's throat, invisible fingers pressing in and threatening to cut off her oxygen supply entirely.

She rests her head on her bent knees, closing her eyes to try keep the dizziness at bay, long hair spilling down her bare legs, and she is suddenly freezing, can feel the goosebumps popping out along her skin, the sweat from earlier having dried, and wishes she had thought to put something warmer on before bed, something more than the pajama shorts and tank top she is currently clad in.

She feels Olivia shift closer to her on the couch, and there is a brief touch to her shoulder blade, before the other woman quickly pulls away, as if it suddenly occurs to her that she should ask first before initiating any kind of physical contact. Amanda feels the loss immediately, opening her mouth to protest but realizing that no words are coming out, and then suppressing another sigh of relief when she hears Olivia's voice.

"Is it okay if I touch you?" the older woman asks softly, and Amanda nods, head still bowed and eyes still squeezed shut, and she wonders if she will be able to speak at all that night.

Olivia rests her hand gently against her back, not moving for a moment, and Amanda can feel the warmth of the other woman's skin through her thin shirt, the soft touch already beginning to relax and ground her, before Olivia starts moving her hand in slow, soothing circles.

"Oh, sweetheart, I can feel your heart racing," her boss whispers, the concern evident in her tone. "It's okay, you're safe. I'm here and you're not alone. You're safe, Amanda," she repeats, her voice more firm now.

They sit there in silence for a few minutes, before her boss starts talking to her softly again, her tone low, not asking about Amanda's panic attack or the assault or if she has relapsed yet again with her gambling addiction, but just telling her how the week has gone at work, chatting about Fin and Carisi and the antics the boys have been up to in Amanda's absence, letting her know how much she has been missed at the precinct. While she is talking, both of her hands are smoothing over Amanda's back, lightly swiping any stray hair over her shoulders and out of the way, thumbs digging slightly into her muscles from time to time.

When she feels Olivia's fingers working their way down her spine, massaging and trying to soothe her, she finally begins to feel her muscles unclencing bit by bit, her heart rate slowing, the relaxation wrapping all the way around her now, the intense relief of being released from the powerful grip of yet another panic attack, the anxiety slowing ebbing away and leaving her trembling with exhaustion in its wake.

Amanda's head has remained on her knees, eyes closed, and she fights the slumber that is threatening, as the gentle ministrations continue, and Olivia murmurs quietly to her about about nothing in particular now, just safe, mundane topics like the weather and what had been on TV the night before. Her body feels loose and slack now, her muscles turned to jelly and the older woman seems to realize this, as she feels a light touch on the back of her neck.

"Come on, honey, you need to go to bed. I can walk you back to your room and then spend the night on the couch, if you want."

"No," Amanda whispers, finally able to speak and making no effort to move. "Stay here with me."

She feels Olivia's arms encircle her from behind, her chin resting on her shoulder for a moment, before the older woman guides her down so that they are both laying on the couch now, Amanda safe in Olivia's embrace. She closes her eyes, finally feeling somewhat at peace, and sleep descends instantly, dragging her down into its dark, murky depths.

xxx

When she awakens again, it is to Olivia's voice, not as quiet and soothing as before, but more forceful now, a slight note of alarm weaving its way into her tone, and she realizes that she is still on the couch and has turned over in her sleep, lying on top of Olivia and covering her like a blanket. Her hands are underneath the other woman's shirt, fingernails digging sharply into the tender skin of Olivia's stomach, her jaw clenched tightly together, shaking and sweating and moaning, the remnants of something dark, something disturbing whirling around in her brain, but she can't get ahold of it, can't make the fading images stay put before they are sliding away and out of her reach. She is aware of a sound in the room, an awful piercing noise that is hurting her ears, before she realizes that it is coming from herself; that she is screaming.

Amanda hastily pulls her hands out from beneath her boss' shirt, horrified that she has injured her, that she has clearly crossed over the line of what is considered an appropriate boundary, and yanks herself up and away from the other woman's body, twisting out of Olivia's reach when the older woman extends an arm toward her.

"Amanda, it's okay, it's okay," she becomes aware of Olivia's voice, talking softly to her now, the other woman obviously trying to moderate the way she is speaking, as there is a slight tremble to her tone, like she is trying to keep herself under control. "Stop screaming, sweetheart, you're safe."

"What...what..." Amanda is confused and scrambles further out of her reach as she tries to get her bearings, tries to figure out what the hell is going on, tries to make her vocal cords work, as they seem to be failing her yet again. All she can see in her head now is a giant, looming figure, dark and faceless, and she presses her hands to her mouth as she slides off the couch and onto the floor, desperate for safety.

"Honey, it's okay," Olivia says, and in the dim light of the living room, Amanda can see an uncharacteristically wild look in the other woman's eye, her boss clearly struggling to keep her usual calm demeanor and trying not to show how afraid she is, and she bites her lip when Olivia's shirt rides up in the front as she shifts positions, the red raw scratches on her stomach becoming visible.

She can only guess what she had been doing while she was sleeping, her body and brain betraying her, her dreams and actions out of her control, and she covers her mouth with her hands again, trying to stifle a regretful, apologetic sob.

"God, I'm sorry, Liv!" she cries, her tone anguished and ashamed, and the hot tears spill down her cheeks before she can stop them.

xxx

*Song lyrics are from Florence and the Machine's "Caught"