Casey glanced out her window at the falling snow. It was the first of the year, and she could not be happier. About the weather, anyway. The job was as stressful as ever, if not more so. There had been a surge of crimes over the past week, for whatever reason, and none of the detectives had rested in days. They were all exhausted and tense, and Casey was no better. She had been working nonstop to prepare a huge case and, with one more look at the snow, she set off for the precinct to pick up a few papers she needed from Cragen.
The station house was a wreck. The cases had finally stopped pouring in but all the detectives were too tired to organize the massive amounts of papers that had accumulated over the past days. All four of them were sitting at their desks in various states of alertness, surrounded by the clutter. Elliot, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head, was the first to notice Casey when she walked in, eyebrows raised at the mess.
"Hey," Elliot said, causing everyone else to turn and acknowledge her presence.
"Hey," she returned with a tired smile. "Didn't I see a picture of this room in the dictionary under 'immaculate'?"
"You're lucky it's not worse," Fin said idly, folding a paper airplane and tossing it across the room.
"No need to make it worse," Cragen shot at Fin, coming out of his office and handing Casey a file. "How's this one looking?"
Casey shrugged. "We've got him. The jury won't buy the excuse that he didn't realize it was his ex-wife he was raping. Why they're even bothering to try and get him off on breaking a restraining order when he's already nailed for rape, I have no idea."
As soon as everyone was relatively occupied again, Casey went over to John. "Hi," she said softly after making sure Fin was immersed in his computer.
"Hi." He discreetly rubbed the small of her back. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm ok. I miss you."
"If I had a nickel…."
Casey smirked at him. "You'd have a dime."
"Better than nothing." He took her hand and squeezed it. "Good luck in court."
She tossed her hair over her shoulder, shooting him a smile. "Don't need it." She sighed, looking at her watch. "I guess I'll head over there. I might as well go over my questions and everything."
"See you tonight?"
"I can't wait." She winked at him ridiculously, and he rolled his eyes, but a smile played across his lips and he watched her cross to the door.
Just as she reached it, a man barreled through, looking out of control. All four detectives rose warily, but the man paused the second he saw Casey. Her eyes widened.
"You bitch," he said harshly, and before anyone knew what was happening, he punched Casey in the stomach.
All the detectives rushed over to restrain him, but not before he landed three more blows, two to her ribs and one to the side of her head, and Casey crumpled to the floor, blood starting to ooze from her temple. John ran to her side, his heart beating wildly. Images of her bruised and bloody face after being attacked that night in her office flooded his brain, and fear gripped him to the point that he could barely breathe.
"Casey!" he shouted, rolling her onto her back. Her eyes were open but unfocused, and she was murmuring soundlessly. John ignored the sounds of Elliot and Fin slamming the man against a wall and cuffing him, and he was only dimly aware of Olivia dropping to her knees beside him and pressing a towel to Casey's head.
"This is Detective Olivia Benson, I need a bus as the one-six right away…."
John twined his fingers in Casey's hair, trying to get her to look at him. "Case, I'm here. Look at me. Please. Please, Casey."
"I'm trying," she said so softly it was almost inaudible, but then she closed her eyes, her forehead furrowed in pain.
"Casey, who was that?" Olivia asked desperately, trying to keep her conscious.
Casey's eyes shot open, and everyone present could read the shock and pain. "Charlie," she whispered incredulously.