Chapter 6

"John Saks agrees to having sex with Melinda Ross, Emily Carvanass, Sarah Johnson, Charlotte Smith, and Kristen Freeman. This is not disputed. There is DNA evidence to show for it, and even the defendant himself agrees that the act itself took place."

Every jurors' eyes are on me, and I have to remind myself to take a deep breath and stay calm. Saks is glaring at me as well, but I have to trust that if he tries anything, the court officers will stop him.

It's going to be a struggle to continue from here on out. Opening arguments can not, ironically, sound or be argumentative. So, even though I know that he raped those five women, I still can not let it color my voice, my words. "However, as you will soon hear, each one of those women claims that this sex was not consensual. The People's witnesses speaks to the fact that this sex was, in fact, rape. At the end of this trial, I will speak to you again, after you have seen and all the evidence pointing to the defendant's guilt, not innocence. Thank you."

Trevor glares at me when I walk back to my table, limping ever so slightly- my exercise yesterday did the trick. And I can guess why he's angry; my opening statement was very close to being argumentative. In fact, probably the only reason he didn't object is an objection during opening arguments is nearly always considered the epitome of unprofessional and petty behavior in a courtroom.

I could have done better, I know that. Perhaps it's my exhaustion. I'd been intending to go to sleep two hours earlier last night, since I had to get up two hours sooner in the morning for work. Instead, I'd taken a shower at midnight and worked until two in the morning, then gotten up at six. I'm so tired I can hardly stand, but this trial is not about me. It's about the five women who deserve justice.

Trevor stands and begins his opening arguments, and I force myself to listen. Personally, I don't see the point in them even trying; five victims versus the pathetic argument that Saks believed they wanted it? He might as well just give up now.

Trevor never was one for just taking the easy route, though. He sung his client's praises and I found myself trembling when he attacked the victims, as I had expected him to do. "The People would have you believe that my client was aware of those women's alleged wishes, but there is little evidence for this fact, as you will see in the coming days. After all, even the women admit that they did not say no."

My pencil nearly snaps in my hand and an objection is already on my lips when he says that he is finished. The smirk on his face is especially for me- probably pay back for me borderline opening arguments. I'd rather he'd hit me than take it out on the victims, but that's not the only reason I'm so furious.

I know I didn't say no. I know, and I'm so sorry. I should have yelled for him to stop! God, why didn't I?

"Court is adjourned for now; we'll meet back tomorrow at ten. Be ready to call your first witness, Ms. Novak."

Thank god. I'm shaking and I don't think I can make my first witness walk me and the court through the evening of her rape. My only goal is to get out of here- get out of here and break down in private, because I can feel the beginning of tears coming, and I can't keep calm much longer. I gather my papers and shove them into my briefcase, getting to my feet and preparing to rush out of the courtroom… and then I catch sight of one of the victims.

She's a few years younger than me, with medium-length brown hair and eyes, eyes which are currently glazed over and slowly filling with tears. She's looking away, staring down at her skirt, biting her quivering lower lip and trembling ever so slightly. The sight almost breaks my heart.

And then there's Trevor. Sitting there, conversing quietly with his client, as if he had done nothing wrong. I couldn't take it. I storm over to him, hardly remembering to keep my voice level as I snap at him, "What the hell was that, Trevor?"

He glance up at me in surprise, then stands. Fin and Munch, who is finally off medical leave, are coming up beside me, but I ignore them completely- this isn't about them. "You've got some explaining to do yourself, Casey."

"You didn't have to take it out on the victims."

"Alleged vic-"

"Oh, save it for the trial. And, next time? Go after me, not the victims. Just because they didn't say no doesn't meaning anything." It can't mean anything. I'm really sorry. I tried to scream, I did, I tried to make enough noise so a neighbor would hear me and call the police.

I need to get out of here. If I'm here much longer, chances are, I won't be able to control myself and I'll probably hit the bastard. I hurry out of the courtroom and lean against the wall, my chest heaving, my hands trembling as I fight to to regain my calm.

It's John's hand on my shoulder that brings me back to reality. "Casey?" he asks, looking at me in concern, his partner by his side. "You all right?"

And, just like that, my panic is a forgotten nightmare. I shake him off- because he's managing to make my skin burn, just like Fin did on Friday, not to mention he's holding my injured shoulder- and ask, "What? Yes, I'm fine." It's as if the very appearance of my friend was enough to shock me out of my panicky haze. I straighten my shirt and shake my long hair out over my shoulders, flashing him what I hope is a convincing smile. "I'm okay."

"What happened in there?" he asks, and the look on his face worries me. He suspects something. That's not good.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say with an easy smile. "John, it's good to see you again. I didn't know you were back at work. How's your arm?"

He frowns, but when he answers my question, I know he's decided to let what happened in the courtroom go. "It's fine. Sling's annoying as hell, though. I think I'm allergic to the velcro."

"That's my partner," Fin grumbled. "Nothing if not a hypochondriac."

"Complain all you want. You know you love me."

Fin rolled his eyes. "Thin line between love and hate, Munch. Well, we'll see you in court tomorrow, Case." They two walk away, still bickering like two brothers, and it makes me laugh. It's like they made all my worries and troubles disappear, because my panic from earlier is gone. I feel good, actually. What happened in court is still in mind, but it's not blocking out the rest of the world and stealing the air from my lungs like it was earlier. Thank god for Munch and Fin.

Olivia is still in Philadelphia, so I'm surprised when her partner walks into my office. His face is pale and gaunt, and there are dark circles under his eyes- he looks absolutely exhausted. "Elliot?" I ask uncertainly. "Oh my god- you look awful."

"I know." His voice is just as haggard and exhausted as he looks, and he leans heavily against my door, sticking his hands in his pockets and sighing. "Thanks for the compliment."

"Sorry… how's Maureen?" Elliot's eldest daughter had been in the hospital since Thursday after being hit by a car. All I know is that he had taken Friday off work to stay with her and his wife.

He shrugs tiredly. "Okay. Doing better. The doctors said that she can go home tomorrow."

"Then what are you doing here? You should be at the hospital with her; Olivia's not even back yet." I walk around to sit on the edge my desk, watching as he nods and sighs again.

"I needed to wrap some things up at work; I'm planning on staying home tomorrow when we get to get Maureen out of that hospital. I was actually about to head back to the hospital from the squad room, but Cragen asked me to stop by your office. He says that we just got a break in the Dowing case and that you should start getting ready to take it to court soon. He gave you the files last week, he said."

The Dowing case? I vaguely remember what he's talking about. A college student's boyfriend had caused a miscarriage, which we'd only found out after an unrelated charge of assault against him. It wasn't going to be an easy case to prosecute, under any circumstances, but right now, I'll take anything over a rape case. But where on earth did I leave the file? I took it home last week to review it, I know that much. And then…

Oh, god, it's in my apartment.

"Thanks for the head's up, Elliot," I choke out. It's suddenly hard to breathe and I close my eyes, trying not to get dizzy. "I'll be sure to get right on that." I can't go back there. It's impossible.

"Yeah, sure." He groans, them pushes himself off the all and heads for the door. "I'll probably be back at work Wednesday, Thursday at the latest."

I nod and watch as he leaves. I wait until the door closes, to cover my face with my hands and sink to the floor.

All I know is, that file is somewhere in the mess of papers on my coffee table. I can't do it like I did last time; just reach out, grab the briefcase, and run. I have to actually go in there and sort through all those files to find the right one.

But I can't do it. I already know that I can't.

"No, Casey," I mutter under my breath harshly, forcing myself to stand. "You going to start forgetting what's important now? You're doing this for the victims. Not yourself. You're going to get that file."

A glance at the clock brings me closer to the door. It's four in the afternoon; I could try and put this off for as long as possible, and normally, that'd be my style. But no. I'm eager to get to Olivia's tonight, where I'm safe.

I suppose I don't have a choice. I have to do this.

With a sigh, I grab my briefcase and button up my coat, stumbling towards the door. There is no use putting off the inevitable. I thought I would never have to go there again… I guess I was wrong.

People are just coming home by the time I arrive at my apartment. Inside, I find the same blood-covered, frightening scene that I left. The blood doesn't fail to freak me out, and I have to fight my instincts telling me to run. Find some other way to do this- anything but this.

No. I have to do this.

Shutting and locking my door behind me, I leave my things by the door and take a few slow steps forward. I'm fine, though the sight of all my blood still captivates me. But I'm okay, at least, until I reach the edge of my coffee table.

That's when the burning comes back.

I jump back, like my floor is a bed of hot coals and I just stepped right on it. A soft whimper arises from my throat, and a strange feeling is caught in my chest when I look at the floor. It's almost like… fear.

All right, yes, Casey Novak is afraid of her own apartment. Fine. I am.

But I'm here for a god damn reason, and I'm not about to leave before I find that file.

"All right, Casey. You can do this. Just take another step forward." I take a deep breath, then take a small step forward once again.

The burning returns immediately. It's like the bottom of my feet are on fire- but I don't jump back this time. I take another step, and the fire burns even worse. It's spread up my ankles and my skin prickles and burns even worse now, and I have to fight every instinct I have to not jump back and run for my life.

I take another step, then leap back like something bit me. It's like an actual, physical battle to take each step forward, and I'm losing.

It's no longer about the file. I'm not about to give this up now and fail myself.

I slowly bring my foot forward, a whimper arising from my throat because this is actually physically painful. Planting my foot in the carpet, I try to move forward once again, but I just can't do it. It's too hard. Reaching out as far as I can, I grab as many files as I can before scampering back, to where I'm safe, where my skin isn't on fire anymore.

Sinking to the ground, I start to pick through the files, then hesitate. This isn't right. I scoot back on the floor so my back is to the wall and I can see the doorway, then sigh as some of the tension and fear eases from my muscles.

I flip through the files and am relieved when I find the one I came here for. There's no need to stay here anymore. Tucking the files under my arm, I get to my feet and turn to leave, then stop.

I never thought I would be able to get that far. The very notion was simply funny, unimaginable, before tonight. But now…

Could I live here again?

Well, I don't know, but the answer isn't a simple no anymore.

With a miserable sigh, I head towards the door, shutting and locking it behind me. I'll go to Olivia's, mull it over, and get some sleep. I'll figure it out tomorrow.