A Gay Vibe From Me?

Chapter 13

Amanda Rollins can't remember the last time she actually slept through the night.

Tonight is no different. After jolting awake in terror, due to being plagued by another nightmare, the blonde detective finds herself gasping in response to both the fear of her recent subconscious torture, and the fact that she is currently wrapped inside of the arms of her boss. It takes her a moment to recollect the events of the past couple of days, and to remember that she had asked Olivia to come over and comfort her while she was in the midst of yet another panic attack.

This realization causes Amanda to feel a tinge of guilt; slowly dissipating as she tilts her head up and gazes at her boss, who seems to be resting comfortably, despite the fact that they've both fallen asleep while sitting mostly upright on her couch. The younger woman squints her eyes to peer over toward the clock sitting on top of her counter, and is shocked to realize that it is already 2:30 in the morning. As she exhales a lengthy sigh, she is reminded of learning in her Police Psychology course that REM sleep is essential to memory and retaining information. At this rate, she thinks, she's lucky to even remember her own name.

"Fucking...nightmares..." Amanda whispers out loud to herself, cautious not to wake Olivia, or Frannie, who is slumbering peacefully in the middle of the living room. She feels the all-too-familiar anxiety rapidly starting to simmer in her core; her chest rapidly rising and falling, her throat constricting in defense. "Fuck this," she confirms with the nod of her head. Desperate to distract herself, Amanda takes another moment to bask in the impossible beauty of her current situation by averting her gaze up toward Olivia.

Despite the fact that she still feels embarrassed and vulnerable, Amanda can't help but notice how gorgeous the older brunette looks right now: brown strands of soft hair falling out of her loose bun; dark eyelashes that reach well past underneath her eyes because they're so long, and her lips, god, her lips, she thinks, so pink and plump, half-split apart by spontaneous, light snores. Amanda smirks with the knowledge that she is safe; the only sounds she can hear in this moment are the snores, a reminder that Olivia Benson is sleeping beside her, alive and well and the faint sound of crickets seeping beneath the patio door of her apartment.

As the blonde begins to drift back off into sleep, the crickets start to grow louder. They are growing so audible, Amanda mentally considers hopping off of the couch to make sure her patio door is actually shut all of the way. The chirping grows so loud, she can picture the insects rubbing their hundreds of tiny, hairy hands together. Instantaneously, Amanda physically jumps in response to getting bit on her leg by what must be a mosquito; she only lets out a soft whimper, still cautious not to wake Olivia.

Do NOT wake Olivia, she internally repeats, as she rubs the ailment on her skin.

Suddenly, Amanda is alone.

"Liv?" she calls out, both petrified and puzzled by her solitude.

Instead of an answer from her boss, and the familiar feeling of soft cushions underneath her body, Amanda feels sharp blades of grass poking at her bottom, and she is suddenly freezing. Confused, she looks up, and instead of her ceiling, she sees a clear, night sky, littered with stars and the glow of the moon. Normally, this sight would calm her, but something feels off. A slew of distorted, panicked thoughts blow right through her mind: did I get drunk again? Am I blacked out? Where am I? What's happening?

"L...Liv?! Where are you?" she begs in the tone of broken sobs.

A deep, masculine-sounding voice answers her plea. "Lookin' for your girlfriend, Mandy?"

The blonde's eyes widen as much as physically possible when she realizes that her father is the one answering her. He is standing confidently in front of her; arms crossed, in a pair of dirty jeans, a flannel shirt, and a pair of oversized work boots. Behind him is her old house; somehow, she realizes, she has travelled back to Georgia in the midst of nothing but a few short minutes. She is somehow sitting in the middle of their dark front yard in nothing but a pair of shorts and a tank top, stargazing, just like she used to do when she was a teenager and couldn't sleep.