Trauma is a strange thing. It's not like a cold, when you're sick for a while, but after a week or two of runny noses it's gone. Colds are easy, predictable. Trauma is a sickness that ebbs and follows, its intensity constantly fluctuating. There are days when laughter is easy, and pain is so distant a memory, it seems to be just a bad dream. Then there are days when it pulls you under, memories eating at your soul.
Today is the soul crushing kind. It's Saturday, and all Casey feels like doing is lying in bed, allowing her thoughts to fester. Olivia was called to a case, only leaving with Casey's insistence that she was fine.
Casey is sprawled on the bed, watching the clouds roll by their window, upside down. The clouds are dark, heavy with rain and Casey hopes for a storm. Storms are the perfect time for angst, the crackle of thunder a perfect enabler for a darkened soul.
Casey allows the pain to rush over her, Charlie filling her thoughts. She thinks it would be easier if he were a monster she could hate. Then she could unleash the anger she feels at herself on him. It would be easier if there were no happy moments- no love, no details. She doesn't want to remember what tea he loved, or the sound of his laugh. If he were just the man that raped her, not the man she also loved, then she could just hate him. Then her heart wouldn't be twisted and scratched, pulled in too many directions.
If only last night hadn't happened. It wasn't fair that Olivia's loving hands had become Charlie's rough ones in her mind. They had been making love, when suddenly his hands replaced Olivia's. He had invaded their bed and Casey was pissed. She wanted to be able to make love to her girlfriend without flashbacks and fear. She had finally found his wonderful woman who would rather die than ever hurt her in that way and he had to ruin it. It wasn't fucking fair at all.
Olivia had been patient and gentle, trying to comfort her, but Casey had to make Charlie's hands disappear, even if that meant that Olivia's couldn't hug her.
Casey left Olivia alone in bed, retreating to balcony, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The cold wind bit at her face, but at least it served as a distraction. Casey was terrified that she'd made Olivia feel like she had assaulted her. Olivia was so paranoid about her genes in the first place; Casey could only imagine the dark place Olivia went to when Casey started to react like was being raped.
Casey curls up in the bed, pleading for the uncomfortable feeling she desperately wants to run from to pass. She wants a dreamless sleep that will take her away from all of this.
