"Bravery is the capacity to preform

properly even when scared half to death."

- Omar Bradley -

The squad was stationed at various points through the room as per usual: Olivia sitting at her desk, Elliot perched on his and Fin standing in the aisle. Munch was grabbing coffee while Cragen looked on from the side of the dry erase board and computer screens.

"The group only uses a code name for the woman who takes in the victim - Subvenio. It's Latin for to come to the aid and they're a known underground group for abused and abandoned women and children. There is no known contact to get in to the organization to protect those being served by the group, but it seems, from what Casey said, to be similar to the group that helped Kim Hoffman."

Elliot recalled that case easily, the way he'd had to dive in headfirst to find Kim and going person to person. He'd thought back on that from time to time and realized not too long ago that someone would have to be truly desperate to do what she had. He had a hard time seeing Casey being that far gone, though it was easier to picture now than at the beginning of all this.

"They helped her get from Germany to the Netherlands and from there to Belgium and France. After that, she and Eliska were on their own."

"If they were on their own, how did he turn up in London?" Olivia asked from her chair, curious how Milana fit in all this and why George was so fixated on it.

"He was asked to come." Looking at the assembled faces, Huang explained, "In November of 1995, she sent a letter to a friend who had a contact to reach Milana. She didn't say how he contacted her, but Casey sent a second letter in February and he arrived in April."

"Why?" Elliot asked, his face scrunched a little as he tried to work out why Casey, so fearful of her father, would ever have chanced being found by contacting her brother. She'd put on the line being found in London, letting Eliska be found by the man.

George shook his head. "She wouldn't say anything specific, only that she needed him." He'd pushed her to find out what she'd needed him for, if there was something going on in her life then that called for the protection of family or if Peter had found the girls back then and getting away again meant calling in Milana. But the latter didn't seem right given the fact that Casey had sent two letters four mouths apart.

The only idea he had left to explain it was spoken by Olivia, who told the others, "Maybe she just needed her brother."

"She was risking a hell of a lot by telling him where she was though," Cragen pointed out. "If he was in league with their father..."

"There's no way McDuff would have passed up the chance to get at the girls back then." Fin's chair creaked under his weight as he sat down, saying, "Casey swears he never wanted them but he's obsessed with those girls. He's been looking for them since they got away from him."

Novak cleared her throat as she came to a stop near them and with an amused smirk commented, "All I hear you guys talking about lately is me. I think I like being popular." She grinned at them before shifting her weight from one foot to the other and then sliding into the seat the Captain pushed over. "So what's new and exciting in my life that I don't know about yet?"

Olivia smirked and looked down at the papers on her desk. Slowly but surely she was figuring out that Casey's former demeanor came out when she was comfortable with her surroundings; Casey was trying to trust them, and she was getting used to their very presence in places they'd never been before such as her home. It was calming to know that she was still the woman they'd known.

"Can I ask you something?" Munch's calm voice came in the lull, waiting until she nodded before asking, "How did he find you? Eliska told us what she knew, but I guess we need to hear it from you, Casey."

"Of course she did," Casey sighed. She moved in the chair, unable to get comfortable and got to her feet, walking restlessly for a moment then putting herself up aside the marker board. She closed her eyes as she spoke.

"You have no idea how exhausting it is to spend your life looking over your shoulder, thinking one day that the monster you see in your sleep will be there. Eliska didn't get to stand on a balcony until last year because I was always afraid that he'd be waiting for her or he'd be down on the street, looking at us."

Huang, going from friend to professional in seconds, asked, "It has to be terrible to have to be alert every minute of the day."

She turned to face him and lifted an eyebrow to let the man know that she was too well-versed in his demeanor to not notice his change in mannerism. Still, she answered him quickly and went on from there.

"I'm used to sleep deprivation. Between father and my school work as a kid, I think Mila and I slept four or five hours if we were lucky and when it was just me and Eliska, there were times we'd both be up for days. Then undergrad, working, law school..." She let out a little laugh. "But every once in a while, I got too tired to be aware. Or maybe I just got complacent. I don't really know.

"Safest place I ever worked was the District Attorney's office. I let my guard down so easily there. Metal detectors, security personnel – who would dare try to get in to a government building with officers armed three feet away? I guess I forgot for a minute how good Father had always been about sneaking into places."

"He did a little B & E while you were growing up?"

Casey tossed a look at Fin. She spared a thought for how worried he had to be for his voice to be so deadly calm. "We were poor. Mama worked odd jobs for friends since Father couldn't hold down one of his own after he left the service. I only went to a good academy because I was granted a scholarship.," she explained, "And as I got older, I had to bail him out a few times after he tested the locks at the pub or got busted for stealing from the neighbors."

"You had to bail him out?"

"Mama was usually working late, Dobrila died when I was a kid, and Mila avoided having contact with Father as much as possible. I was the only one left and it was a hell of an experience the first time I had to go to the jail." She brushed a hair from her eyes. "I was actually thinking about that when he found me. I didn't notice him following me until after I'd gotten to my office and went to close the door. And there he was.

"I couldn't move and my heart was racing and then he shut the door, and I... I snapped. I remember thinking that I should be stronger, then there's nothing. Like television static until later that day when Elliot was asking me about the Hanson case." The mirthlessness in the tone of her voice was hard to miss when she muttered, "He stole my childhood, my mother, my sister, and the right to feel safe in my own home. Now he's stealing my memories too."

There was a moment of silence from Casey, echoed by the others as they digested what Eliska didn't tell them and probably didn't know herself. George finally broke it, gently pushing, "Casey, did he..."

"Don't say it," she cut him off, "Don't."

Olivia reached out for Casey's hand, stopping halfway between them and letting Casey decide. Her heart leapt when long fingers wound into hers, a small comfort taken by both of them.

"Now those memories come back to haunt me

They haunt me like a curse."

- Bruce Springsteen -

"Eliska was just a child when they left – barely two years old. Casey carried her across the border between the Czech Republic and Germany so tightly Eliska actually remembers it because it hurt but she was too scared to move. Two years old and she was already terrified."

"So she wasn't abused?"

"That, sir, is a relative term. Eliska was never touched sexually, no, but she was subjected to the same behavior Casey was before the abuse began. She was shown pornography and Casey mentioned a handful of times that it wasn't unusual for Peter to expose himself to the children.

"What she can remember, however, isn't that. She remembers hearing Casey crying in the night, back then and after they left, and she can describe in perfect detail how her mother looked on the floor the night she died. She may not have suffered his hand, but Eliska Novak is a victim as much as her siblings. She simply doesn't realize it."

"Darkness is only driven out with light,

not more darkness."

- Martin Luther King, Jr. -

Eliska's birthday was fast approaching. Born in the early hours of April 1st, she always enjoyed the jokes and teasing that came from her birth date.

This year, not so much.

This year April first fell on a Wednesday, which in of itself wasn't a problem. The problem was that her eighteenth birthday would be spent in a courtroom, on the stand, for an entirely too long trial (in her opinion) on her father's crimes.

He'd been charged not only with the crimes against them, but both Ireland and the Czech Republic allowed them to try him on the murders of Mary Carter and Dobrila. Their mother remained unavenged though there had been promises made that should he ever be released from an American prison, he would be captured on a warrant and extradited for it.

She doubted highly, though, that he ever would see the light of freedom – he was sixty-four years old and had not led the most healthy of lives. He most likely would spend whatever time he had left in a six by six cell and truthfully, Eliska believed they'd both accepted it; at least for the first time in her life, Casey could live without the constant looking over her shoulder.

She was still standing in front of her closet thinking about it all when Munch knocked on her bedroom door. "Come in," she called.

The door popped open then, revealing the as-usual black clad man who smiled gently at her. "Ready to go yet?"

"Well, unless the judge wouldn't mind me sitting in pajamas in her courtroom, I'll say no." She laughed as she gestured to the gray lounge pants and baggy blue shirt. "I'm just trying to decide between a skirt or pants." The aforementioned articles were hung on one each of the French doors with the accompanying garments needed to make them an outfit.

John silently noted the two laden hangers. It was too early for shirt sleeved shirts, but they both sported thick sweaters and for the skirt, a pair of cable-knit leggings. No matter what Eliska chose she would be covering up every inch of skin she could. He moved forward without a word and pulled open the closet doors, revealing a plethora of tops and bottoms.

"I don't think I've ever seen a girl with more clothing." He mused, and asked her, "How about that dress?" The item in question was a long purple dress, a slight ruffle along the cross in the front. It had a higher-than-most neckline that would reveal only her collarbones – proper for an appearance in court.

"It's short sleeved."

Her reply was clearly meant as a rejection; he pointed to the long sleeved sweater beside it anyway. "I may not be winning any fashion awards, but that looks like it'll match."

Eliska sighed and grabbed the dress reluctantly. She tossed it down on the bed, casting a glance at it before looking at Munch with an expectant look. He didn't leave, though, and she muttered, "I don't want him to see me."

"Do you want to stay home?"

She snorted. "No way in hell," she said with vehemence, "I want to see him, but I don't want him to see me. He... he saw of me than I ever wanted to show." Her voice had grown softer with each word, her discomfort obvious.

Reaching for the left hanger, the one set out with pants and a heavy pull over sweater, he passed it over. He waited a moment while she picked apart the pieces of clothing she'd picked out the night before, then turned and walked out of the room to check on Casey. She too had been torn between outfits, but her choices were significantly narrowed due to her smaller wardrobe. Munch sighed at the thought; Casey had once had suits and outfits full of color and energy, but her father had even taken that from her. He'd thrown away, torn, and burned most of her clothing, forcing her into baggy shirts, jeans, and stained pajamas.

"There was a time I could have walked into a courtroom and not thought twice about what the judge thought of what I was wearing," she announced without looking up from the socks she was yanking on. "We're going to look like the odd couple, Eliska and I." Casey's hands fell on to her knees with a thud and she gave a short smile, before turning her attention to the baby sleeping quietly in the middle of the bed surrounded by what seemed like every pillow in the apartment.

Alexandr, the squad had learned, was suffering from colic and seizures. He slept little, keeping both girls on a schedule of waking every three hours to feed, change, or comfort the infant. John couldn't imagine living how they were and yet, he knew Casey and Eliska wouldn't change it for the world.

"No, we're a motley crew, that's what we are," she laughed after a minute, telling him, "I look like a grad student again with my baby who can barely hold his head up, while Eliska will no doubt look like dressed-down royalty."

"You look fine." He held back the urge to comment that perhaps seeing Casey with her nearly-worn-out clothing and stitches in the wound that stubbornly refused to heal, the judge would get a true taste for what she'd endured.

The look she gave him was perfectly Casey: a cross between sarcastic and amused with a little apathy thrown in. "I look tired," she said. "I feel tired. And it's not even begun – Father's attorney isn't exactly known for being kind to people. Even if his client's crimes are obvious."

"Well, he'll be sentenced for some of the charges," he pointed out. Alexa's existence and the DNA test preformed a month earlier had proved that, in the very least, he would be found guilty of incest, which would carry a few years imprisonment.

"Fathering Alexandr and kidnapping... I wanted him for murder, John." She stood up, pulling the too large cardigan tighter and then turned to her son, lifting him in her arms as he slept. "Guess I'll have to settle for knowing that he'll have to look me in the eye while he lies for the first time in my life."

"What if they eventually do find him guilty? If he's convicted?"

"I don't know, truthfully." She'd spoke with a look of thoughtfulness across her face, as though she'd never thought of such a possibility. Casey may have been angry at the man for what he'd done, wanted him convicted, but she still didn't believe it would happen.

Munch wondered why; wondered if years of seeing him elude justice in several countries, on more than one continent, had left her with a bitter taste in her mouth over the government's ability to charge and confine McDuff.

He was thinking over words, trying to decide the best way to go on when Eliska knocked on the door and entered. With her in the room, he realized the time and reluctantly, he guided them out to the car, unsure of what would happen when they arrived at the courthouse.

"We dance in a ring and supposed,

while the secret sits in the middle and knows."

- Robert Frost -

"I was seven the first time. He... walked into my room and I just cried and cried and cried because it hurt, but he kept saying I was a good girl."

"Did you tell someone?"

"Only anyone who'd listen. Until he found out and then it was never worth mentioning again."

"The irony of life is that hardly

anyone gets out of it alive."

- Robert A. Heinlein -

The diner was nearly empty.

Sitting around the table, the detectives were smiling and Cragen had lifted his glass to Casey as she leaned back into her chair with Alexandr sleeping in Olivia's arms. Eliska had gone to the ladies, but for the first time in a long time, Casey didn't feel the urge to watch the restroom's door or follow her in.

Although Peter (Richard, she reminded herself) had yet to be sentenced – he had a few days before that verdict was handed down – and she didn't plan to attend the judge's decision, the man had been found guilty on several counts from aggravated sexual assault to kidnapping to murder and fraud. He would remain in custody at Riker's until he was transported to which ever prison he would serve his time in, isolated from the general population, and that meant supervision and that meant no more having to look over her shoulder.

It would likely take both Novak women some time to actually accept such an idea and to let their paranoia rest, but already the others could see a faint easing of the tension in Casey who had always seemed to hold herself taut.

Eliska had been gone only a minute, everyone settling into their evening, when Olivia's eyes took on a thoughtful quality.

"I know that look," Elliot declared, teasingly before sipping at his drink.

She glanced down at the baby snoozing away in her grasp, then turned her attention to Casey, asking, "That first case you worked with us, I found you crying in your office..."

"It wasn't as much of a reminder as you might think, Liv," she cut off the other woman, going on, "It was that I could do nothing to stop it from happening again by nailing his ass to the wall. That and I was still very unsure of you lot. I wasn't expecting instant acceptance after how close you all were with Alex, but I wasn't prepared for rejection."

"We weren't rejecting you."

Stabler's immediate objection brought a fond look from the former attorney. "I know that now," she said. "I know that you were just upset when I threw myself into crime scenes and pushed witnesses, but I guess I was expecting the people Alex used to talk about. Her friends."

Eliska returned then, plopping down into her chair and yawning. She jumped when Cragen's cell phone began to ring, nearly dropping her drink in the process to the quiet laughter of the others. She smirked into the glass as she took a slug of the water.

"Thank you," Cragen said to the caller, adding, "No, that won't be necessary – they're with me." Taking the phone away from his ear, he slowly snapped the cell closed and announced, "There was a mix up at Rikers. Richard Abernethy was placed in gen pop instead of isolation. He was beaten to death half an hour ago."

The look of contentment on Casey's face fell, replaced by apprehension and, Olivia was sure, devastation. The United States had passed down justice by finding him guilty, while the inmates of the City of New York had passed down a death sentence in the form of murder. A murder that meant someone else would be tried and sent to prison while the man who had raped and killed his children would be seen as a victim.

"Excuse me," Novak muttered, "I need some air. Eliska, stay here, okay?" Her chair scraped the floor as she moved, glancing for a second at her son before moving toward the door.

It came open with less force than she'd thought she had thought she would need, only to find a person on the other side. A man with chestnut hair and blue eyes, who stood only a few inches taller than Casey herself but who's features were undeniably familiar.

"Marek," he said, stopping to correct himself, "I'm sorry. Casey now."

The table occupants rose, prepared to step in until he spoke again and Casey's shock became understandable.

"My brave, beautiful sister."

Propelled into the safety of his arms, Casey felt the tears on her face. Felt the constriction in her chest from holding back and she finally grieved.

"Life is what we make it.

Always has been., always will be."

- Grandma Moses -