A/N: This is just a short one shot of some missing scenes from this week's episode because I have to twist everything to fit into my own personal Calex timeline ;) sorry I've fallen off the face of the earth and not updated anything in forever. Hopefully have some updates soon.
The first she knows of anything being wrong is a text message. She's not usually one to do as she's told but there's something about the bluntness of Alex's message - "stay upstairs", not even a kiss - that tells her this is serious, so she stays put.
She hears them come in; Alex first, sounding tense, and then...
...she instantly recognises the other voice and for a second it's like she stops breathing. Just for a second. Because if Liv knows and Liv's here then they're screwed. If Liv's found them, then it's over, it has to be.
The voices become too muffled to understand as they move out of the hallway, and Casey's heart is pounding so hard that all she can hear is it's constant rhythm, the blood in her veins feeling heavy and electric. She tries to go back to what she was doing, but her hands are sweaty and uncooperative. It doesn't matter anyway; these kids aren't going to need their duffel bags of toys and clothes if the whole thing goes south. If she and Alex end up in prison.
It seems like an age that she sits there, back pressed against the door, her mind spiralling, every scenario worse than the one before. She feels useless. Alex is having to deal with this - whatever this is - alone. She knows she shouldn't feel guilty - this was Alex's choice, she chose to protect her - but she does. She hates feeling useless, it's what led her to give up the courtroom in the first place; too many sick fucks getting off after committing horrendous crimes. Too many men beating their wives to death and never having to face the consequences.
A soft knock on the wood behind her causes her to almost jump out of her skin. She'd been too lost in thought to hear the footsteps on the stairs, just another reason she probably isn't cut out for this kind of thing.
"Case... it's me," Alex's voice drifts through and Casey quickly stumbles to her feet, opening the door.
Alex doesn't look as broken as Casey expected.
Then again, she's Alexandra Cabot, the ADA who returned from the dead. Not much phases her these days (or at least that's what she wants everyone to believe).
"Where is she?" Casey asks, swallowing back a lump in her throat.
"Liv's gone. She's... god, everything has gone so wrong. We need to prepare to move immediately."
It's surreal watching Alex prepare for court, like they've fallen into a time warp. A part of Casey is jealous; she misses it even if she's spent so long pretending like she doesn't. Still, watching Alex rehearse in the mirror, dressed in a pencil skirt and sweater that she hasn't worn in years, her converse sneakers traded for heels, Casey can't help but feel proud of her. She waits until Alex finishes speaking, and crawls down the bed to her, interrupting Alex's morning routine with a soft kiss.
"You sure I can't come?"
Alex narrows her eyes, though she's smiling, "it's bad enough Liv knows about me, I don't want to risk her finding out that we're working together. You two didn't exactly leave on good terms."
"It's lot of weight to put on one person's shoulders," Casey says, brushing Alex's hair behind her ears, "and I know before you say it, you're more than capable of doing this alone, I just wish there was more I could do..."
"You're already doing more than enough." Alex kisses her one more time, stroking Casey's cheek gently with her thumb, before reluctantly pulling away, "be careful," she murmurs, the same phrase they always leave each other with, and Casey almost laughs at the absurdity of it. As if she's the one who needs to be careful.
"You too," she responds, softly, watching Alex leave.
It's the middle of the night when Alex gets back. Casey had given in and gone to bed, but she wakes as soon as their bedroom door opens, blearily reaching around to turn on the bedside lamp.
Alex doesn't say anything as she climbs into bed, fully dressed besides her shoes, and she doesn't have to. She's sobbing as Casey folds herself around her, kissing her shoulder, wrapping her arm around her waist. Alex doesn't have to explain. Somehow, she just knows. Casey pulls her closer, and Alex turns in her arms, burying her face in Casey's shoulder, clinging to her as she cries. There's no words, nothing to say.
This isn't the first time.
Casey holds her until she eventually falls asleep.
There is no arrest, no raid, no closing down. Their world doesn't stop turning.
Casey doesn't completely understand it; she keeps thinking about how if it was her that Olivia had seen, the consequences would be so different. She knows that isn't constructive, isn't fair, but Liv Benson will always have a soft spot for Alex Cabot, and that's why she doesn't ask about their late night meetings, doesn't ask for any more details than Alex is willing to supply. She can't be jealous, not when it's her that Alex comes home to, her that Alex trusts with all of her secrets. It's Casey who talks her out of panic attacks when her PTSD gets bad, Casey who lies awake at night comforting her when she needs to cry. Casey who she loves.
If the circumstances were different though...
Alex is at the kitchen bench, surrounded by papers, her laptop open amongst them all, a cup of coffee untouched at her side. Her mouth is a thin line as she concentrates on her work, pushing her glasses up into her hair to look at her laptop. Casey never tires of watching her like this, doing something she loves, something that's important.
It's as if last night never happened.
"We're out of milk," Casey says, closing the refrigerator. She can hear the faint sound of children playing in the adjoining building, their moms calling after them, chatting amongst themselves.
"I'll get some. I have some things to pick up for tonight, anyway," Alex responds, absently.
Casey nods, moving around to the other side of the counter, glancing over Alex's shoulder. Photographs gaze up at her, family shots, the same woman and two children in all of them. At first glance they look happy, a husband with his arm tight around the shoulders of his wife; in another he's got the youngest child on his shoulders, a hand clamped around his wife's wrist. After a while of seeing pictures like this, you start to notice things that are wrong. Grips that are just a little too tight. The way the light goes out of women's eyes, their smiles not quite genuine. Long sleeved sweaters at the beach, and faces turned just so to avoid showing dark patches.
There are pictures of her and Charlie that are like this.
Swallowing, she drags her eyes away from the pictures, and meets Alex's gaze. She hadn't realised she was being watched.
"Okay?" Alex asks, searching her eyes worriedly.
"Yeah. Just... this week..."
Nodding, Alex reaches up to her, cups her face. Casey turns her cheek into the touch, kissing Alex's palm.
"We keep going," Alex says, softly.
Casey nods, before agreeing: "we keep going."
