The lieutenant knew it immediately upon waking up. All the telltale signs were there—a scratchy throat, runny nose, a cough that produced enough mucus to fill a small lake. She was obviously sick, but she intentionally ignored the symptoms as she went about her morning, hoping that she'd feel better as the day went on. Her hope was fading fast though because she was feeling sicker by the second. She was just grateful it was Saturday, the day she usually took off from SVU unless something emergent was happening.
"Good mornin'," Amanda chirped upon her wife's arrival in the kitchen, a little confused when the brunette turned away from the kiss she offered so that the younger woman's lips just lightly grazed her cheek.
As soon as Olivia spoke, however, all speculation was gone. "Morning," she croaked weakly, a sheepish smile quirking the corners of her lips upwards at the face the blonde gave her.
"Olivia." Amanda couldn't recall the last time the other woman had been visibly sick. But in addition to the frog in her throat, Liv also had a red nose, watery eyes, clammy skin, and an overall slouched demeanor. The detective took the one necessary step to close the distance between them, watching as Benson winced at their closeness, and she placed the back of her hand over the sniffling woman's forehead. "You have a fever," she announced.
"'Manda, I'm fi—" Her weak claim was interrupted by a sneeze that resonated through the house.
"Baby, please. It's okay," Amanda insisted, knowing the older woman would be self-conscious. Olivia was used to being the strong one. Ever since her childhood, she'd been the caretaker, providing for her mother through her alcoholism, becoming a cop and protecting the public, supporting Amanda through her ordeal, giving love to the kids they were lucky enough to have in their home. It was extraordinarily unnatural for the brunette to accept any form of assistance, and Rollins felt the uneasiness waft off of her. She, herself, had been itching to care for another human being as the two women were experiencing their own version of empty nest syndrome due to their last set of foster kids, a sibling group of three, going back home. "You never let me take care of you."
"I don't want to get you sick." The brunette knew her wife wasn't only referring to the times she was unwell. Amanda was clearly pointing out that Liv never asked for comfort, which the younger woman didn't blame her for. She too had developed her own arsenal of maladaptive coping strategies. It came with the territory of having a turbulent childhood.
The detective was prepared to shoot down this argument. She always was. "Honey, I've been so close to you these past few days that if I'm gonna get sick, then I'm just gonna get sick." Amanda guided her back towards the bedroom, wrapping an arm around her waist tenderly.
Olivia paused outside their bedroom door, defiantly placing her hands on her hips. "So you're just gonna give up? Bet that's what killed everybody during the Spanish flu."
"Actually," the blonde pointed out, "what killed most people during the Spanish flu was that when World War I ended, people were so excited that they took to the streets in thousands, spreading the virus like wildfire."
Benson conceded their mini-debate, dropping her hands from her hips in surrender and wonder at her wife's vast expanse of knowledge. "How do you know that?"
Amanda smiled sweetly, continuing to usher the woman towards their bed. "It's my job to know things. Let me grab you some meds."
"Don't you have to study?" the lieutenant asked, sitting on the edge and refusing to get herself situated in the bed. She wasn't ready to give up. "You have the bar coming up soon."
"Nah, I can get Alex to help me catch up later." The blonde sorted through their medicine cabinet, retrieving three bottles.
"Don't you think she's busy with her election?" the older woman called from the bedroom, determined to find an argument that Amanda couldn't rebut.
Rollins returned then, reaching out with her free hand to delicately brush some hair away from her stubborn wife's face, proud of herself when she closed her eyes at the touch. Olivia had always been such an amazing anchor and support to fall back on, but she deserved to be given the same love and compassion. She was actually kind of cute when she was sick, not that Amanda enjoyed watching the other woman suffer. "Won't know if I don't ask."
As the law school graduate continued to run her fingers through damp, sweaty hair, she could tell that the other woman's resolve was weakening, but she had one last—albeit far-fetched—trick up her sleeve, and the desperation in her tone was clear. "But you love studying."
Amanda scratched at the woman's scalp, humming to cue her to open her eyes, and she held out some pills in the palm of her hand—benadryl, ibuprofen, and mucus relief. "Not more than I love you. You're not gonna win this argument, babe."
Liv groaned. "Fine. You win." Reluctantly, Benson took the medication from her wife, swallowing it down with some water on her nightstand. "But I don't want to rest. I have work to do," she continued petulantly moments before coughs wracked her body at such a strength that her entire form shook.
Amanda gingerly sat down next to her, her fingers drawing wide circles on the coughing woman's back as she cooed comforting phrases into her ear. When her breathing had returned to normal, the blonde wrapped an arm entirely around her, leaning the lieutenant's head against her chest and kissing her temple. "You know Fin and Carisi got you covered. You're just a pile of excuses today."
Olivia shrugged weakly in surrender, exhaustion overwhelming her. "Guilty," she murmured in a scratchy voice. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I just feel pathetic and puny."
"Liv. You're not pathetic and puny. You're strong and everyone knows that. You just have a bad cold." When the older woman's eyes fluttered closed as she rested against Amanda, the detective knew she was fading fast, so she carefully lifted Olivia off of her, standing up and folding down the comforter all the way. "C'mon, let's get some rest."
She remained still, her last attempt at protest. "You might have to handcuff me to the bed first."
Amanda chuckled, guiding the woman's head down onto the pillow. To make a joke like that, there's no way she wasn't at least somewhat out of it. Still, the blonde decided to play along. "Don't make me horny while you're sick. You know how irritable I get." Benson just grunted as she gripped onto the pillow, holding on for dear life. Amanda didn't even know why or how her wife managed to get out of bed earlier. She lifted her feet slightly in order to pull a portion of the blanket out from under her. "Let's go, baby. Under the covers. I'll bring you some juice and some toast," she added after the slightly shivering woman was tucked in, the blonde's fingertips tracing patterns on her arm.
She stood up to get Olivia the items she'd promised her, but she was stopped by a strained voice as she reached the doorway. "Amanda?"
The sound of the lieutenant saying her name never got old, and the sweet cadence of the way she called out to her now melted Amanda's heart. It should have always been like this. Insisting that Liv allow her to care for her when she was struggling was a hill that Rollins was willing to die on. "Yes, honey?"
A soft sniffle came from under the covers. "Can you just stay with me for a little while?"
Amanda smiled. Juice and toast would have to wait. She climbed under the comforter beside Olivia, pulling her close and wrapping an arm around her from behind. She pressed a kiss right behind her ear, humming quietly. "Of course. I'm right here."
