Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except a banjo and some really used running shoes. Sue me for them. ;)

Spoilers and A/N: This is going to be 2 "installments." The first is centered on Olivia leaving to work for the Feds. The second is centered on her return (and Casey's rage-fit, "Are you a little rusty?!"). This assumes Olivia and Casey were involved and (at least) Elliot knew, but others suspected. I have not written in a while and may decide to stick to more reading than writing. Let me know what you think.

"I don't want to walk out of this door and never see you again."

Life likes to think it is funny though, doesn't it? So does human memory. For example, I can't remember how the argument started, only the end. Only the perching on the edge of my coffee table, willing myself not to cry, not to crack in front of you, and concentrating on the growing numbness in my right foot as distraction. Only you twisting my key off your keychain and laying it on the counter. I remember that action shattering every semblance of control I had over my emotions as one tear escaped—and the carefully constructed dam of control was demolished. You watching me cry for a minute before sighing, sighing, and coming over to hold me. I hate crying alone, let alone in front of people. Yet, I remember crying while you held me. Bitter tears, a torrent of emotions mixed with the snot and thick saliva I was leaking everywhere. Muscles spasming and throat constricting against my will as I cried dry all my body would produce. I remember going to blow my nose in the bathroom, consciously avoiding the mirror. I knew my eyes were swollen and sore, knew my face was covered in red splotches, without needing to witness my fall. I came back out and you were standing with your hand on the doorknob, "Look at us. What are we doing here Casey? I don't want to get hurt. I don't want to hurt you. I have to go, but I think we really need to sit down and talk tomorrow. I don't want to walk out of this door and never see you again."

But that's exactly what you did.

I tried to call you later that night, and you didn't answer your cell phone. I knew you had a sting with the Feds, but that didn't stop me from trying to call every hour until I eventually passed out from crying, exhaustion, and despair. The next morning I could barely haul myself out of the bed. My head felt like someone had replaced my brain with cotton-balls and jackhammers. I also knew no amount of makeup would ever conceal the effect crying had rendered on my eyes. My mind played a million different scenarios of why you didn't call me back, and my job lends far too many details for such pessimistic thoughts. At this point, I was sure it was because you were pissed off at me; if something happened to you and I wasn't notified, Elliot knew he'd regret ever being born. I wanted to call you, but you obviously didn't want to talk on the phone. Plus, I needed to see you after our goodbye last night. I needed to see that you were ok. I decided to deal with being late to work and surprise you with coffee at the precinct.

When I walked in, half a dozen coffees teetering precariously in hand (I was amazed by how quickly I learned the specifics of everyone's coffee likes), I was met by four pairs of staring eyes. For a second, I was transported back to high school and wondering if I had left the house without any clothes on. I remember glancing down to double check. "Hey guys, if you stare too long, you'll ruin your eyes." When Munch didn't even have a retort, I knew something was wrong. I set the coffee down and looked around the room. Elliot was staring somewhere just beyond my right shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck, Fin had become intrigued by the zipper pull on his leather jacket, Cragen was periodically switching between watching his shoes and glancing at me, and Munch was being Munch. "Where's Olivia?" I hate asking questions I don't want the answer to. My voice comes out squeezed. Munch had started in on a rant about conspiracy and government bullshit at the same time Cragen called me into his office.

"You haven't been by the DA's office yet, have you?"

I shook my head and weakly motioned towards the coffees on Olivia's desk. I heard Cragen sigh and felt myself starting to be pulled down a large tunnel. "Captain, where's Olivia?!" I sounded a bit shrill and panicked. I don't know what I was hoping for at that point.

"…I … maybe you should sit down Casey … Olivia is …"

I didn't hear the rest. My mind went static-y and my eyes filled with gray spots. All I could hear was blood rushing around my ears and head and air struggling into my lungs. I had to physically hold a hand up to motion Cragen to give me a minute. Funny, how I thought a minute would suffice. He hadn't seen my silent gesture though, and I could hear him rambling still when my ears finally cleared.

"… not sure when she will be back. They won't even tell us where they positioned her for assignment. They are good. Elliot went by her apartment, and it is already cleared out. Her cell phone is disconnected too. We had no say in this matter … Casey … It was her choice to go. I don't like it, but all I can do now is hope she stays safe undercover and gets back to us soon … Arthur called shortly before you came in. He suggested that you take a day off and catch up on paperwork. … I'm sorry Casey."

I think I had slipped into mild shock. You weren't dead. You were alive. You were gone. I thanked the Captain and numbly walked out of the office. I didn't want to see the looks Elliot, Munch, and Fin were trying not to give me and failing miserably at. I kept my face a sturdy mask as I told them to enjoy their coffees and call my cell if they had any urgent business. I felt Elliot following me out to the front steps of the precinct.

"You gonna be ok Casey?"

"Sure, Elliot. Just dandy. Why wouldn't I be anything other than fine? Because my girlfriend and I had the most ambiguously ending goodbye ever last night, and now she is gone? Because she left without letting me know? Because even when Alex-fucking-Cabot went into Witness Protection she demanded to tell you and Olivia, but Olivia couldn't be bothered to even leave me a note or a voice-mail? Because she told me she didn't want to walk out the door and never see me again, but that is exactly what happened? Yeah. Sure. I'm fan-fucking-tastic." Ok. I hadn't really intended for all of that to come rushing increasingly more loudly out. Elliot had no response to that, not that I expected him to. "Look Elliot … I'm sorry. I just need time to process this." I assured him I would call if I needed to.

I remember walking back to my apartment. My body was numb when I got there. I don't know whether it was from the wind chill or the shock. I sat in the shower and cried until the water turned from scalding to lukewarm and finally ran cold. I knew I'd have to face reality the next day. I knew I didn't know how to do that without you around anymore. I spent the entire restless night vacillating between extreme despair because you were gone and intense burning anger that you lied to my face. Part of me knew you didn't have control over not saying goodbye. But a different part of me knew that if Cabot had coerced the WP people, you certainly could have gotten a letter through to me. Couldn't you have? I didn't know the answer to that, and I didn't know that I wanted to. Maybe this was your way of telling me we were finally over. I had no idea what to do. I mean, what does one do in a situation like this? The only thing any of us can ever do – cope.

The next morning, I woke up. The world was still existing around me without you. I took my shower, made coffee for one. I put on my best good soldier face and went to work. The day happened. I came home, and my heart skipped a beat when I realized I wouldn't get to vent to you or even hug you. I willed it to keep beating, made myself dinner, and worked until exhaustion claimed me on the couch. I kept doing that. Over and over. I never got "better" or "over it," but I learned to ignore it. I learned to surrender. I eventually learned to sleep in the bed alone again. I stopped playing the "what if" game with myself … for the most part. I was an almost fully functioning human being. Almost. And then, as unexpectedly as you had walked out of my life, you sauntered right back in.

So … is it even worth the second chapter?