It hurts me so badly inside to see the cuts on her wrist. To think that things were so bad that she thought she had to do that. No one deserves to feel that kind of pain and emptiness.

Truth be told, I could never understand how a person could cut themselves. I always thought it was a sign of weakness or a cry for attention.

How could Casey feel so bad that she felt she had no other choice?

"Casey, no." I grab her wrist to see how bad the cuts are. "How could you do this to yourself?"

She pulls her wrist away from me and rolls her sleeve down quickly.

I'm really upset, probably more than I should be. "Jesus, Casey! Why did you do that?" I know I shouldn't be yelling at her. But I can't help it.

"I just...felt so bad. Guilt just consumed me and it's all I could think about. Whenever I close my eyes I see their faces. When I try to sleep I can still feel them..." she trails off, swallowing harshly. The image of him lying dead after I called him will stay with me forever. And it's frightening. I don't know what to do to get rid of it. I can't think of anything else and I just can't take it anymore. I can't live like this anymore."

I know what she means. I'm haunted by their faces too. I can't sleep without thinking I'm back in that room.

I gently grab Casey's wrist and roll up her sleeve again. Surprisingly she lets me. "But why this, Casey? Why did you do this?"

She sighs heavily. "I couldn't stand the pain. I wanted to feel a different kind of pain. Something physical, because that's not as bad as emotional pain. I took sleeping pills to try and keep myself in a stupor. I drank almost every day to try and dull the pain. Nothing worked. I still hurt. So I sat on the edge of the bathtub in my hotel room and just..cut."

"Did you - want to kill yourself?" I asked, my voice shaking.

She shakes her head. "I don't think so. I really don't. I just wanted to hurt myself. And I did, and when I saw that blood running down my wrist it felt good. Like I was releasing all my pain. It gave me something to focus on. And then suddenly it was all I could think about. Just like that place, those men, what they did...it's all that my mind could focus on. I wouldn't let myself even try and sleep until I cut. Because I didn't deserve to sleep. I had to hurt first. I can't control it anymore, Alex. And I'm scared it will just get worse. I don't want it to get worse." She looks at me, tears stinging her eyes and then says, "please help me, Alex."

No one has ever asked me for help so sincerely in my life. No one has ever actually needed me before.

But Casey does.

I turn and give her a hug, and I feel her sobbing into my shoulder. She's not trying to be strong anymore; she knows she doesn't have to be.

"Of course I will help you," I tell her softly. "You are my friend and I'll do anything to help you. Anything."

I let her cry herself out until she feels she can let go. When she pulls away from me, she wipes her eyes with her sleeve and says, "Thank you."

I have an idea of something that may help right now, and I get up off the couch. "Let's go for a walk."

Casey looks at me like I'm crazy. "It's kind of late...And besides, probably not a good idea. You don't have your police escort right now."

"So what? I can go out whenever I want to. I can't be afraid and looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. And neither can you. So come on, let's go. I'll show you where I used to walk to when I couldn't sleep. The fresh air will feel good."

She finally gives in and once we start out we walk in silence for several minutes, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

"I'm going to call that therapist...the one you gave me the card for. I'll call Monday and make an appointment," Casey finally says.

"That's a great idea," I tell her. "I was never a proponent of therapy. But it really helped me. I think it will help you too."

We walk to the nearby park that I always used to jog through daily. It's the first time I've been here since being back and the familiarity is comforting. There are a few other late night walkers out and about.

I find the dirt trail off the sidewalk and point it out to Casey. "This way. I always used to go this way to think ."

"You have a thinking spot," Casey muses. "How amusing."

I laugh lightly. "I guess even I can be a bit cliche at times."

We walk down the trail in the semi darkness. I'll admit it's a bit creepy with so many lights out and if I were alone I probably wouldn't be coming this way.

We easily find the bench I used to occupy so many times before and we sit down.

"Can you see why I chose this place?" I suddenly ask. "Look around and tell me what you see."

Casey is smart; she will figure it out. It takes her all of about one minute to look around and answer, "You can see the courthouse from here."

I nod. "I used to come sit here during a hard case when I had to get out of the office or when I couldn't sleep. I would look at the courthouse and all the people walking by on the sidewalks. It's always a constant bustle of activity. And I would remind myself that I'm just one person in it all. That no matter what expectations I or anyone else had for me, I'm just one person. I have always put immense pressure on myself, ever since I was a teenager. I strived to do better than anyone else because I would never settle for anything other than the best. I would get so mad at myself and everyone else when I would lose a case. I would sit in my office and analyze what I did wrong. But when I came up here...I realized I couldn't do it all. Those people busily hurrying about the sidewalks were just like me. Maybe I can't do it all but I can sure make a difference in someone's life."

After a moments silence, Casey says, "Alex Cabot is truly an amazing person."

I smile at that. "And Casey Novak is certainly worth saving."

I watch her smile, probably the first time she's smiled in a long time. It makes me feel good.

"And I want you to promise me something. Whenever you feel like you can't handle things, whenever you feel like you might," I pick up her wrist gently, "Do this again, call me. I don't care what I'm doing. Call me and I'll come help you. I want you to promise me you will never put a razor to your skin again. Call me and I'll drop whatever I am doing and come help you."

"That's not fair to you, Alex."

"How do you figure? How is it not fair?"

"You don't have the kind of job where you can just drop everything and you know it," Casey says.

"Honey, I'm Alex Cabot - I can do whatever I want."

For some reason, Casey bursts out laughing at that statement. A real genuine laugh, and it's contagious and before I know it I'm laughing too.

Sometimes friends are really good medicine.

Once our laughter subsides, Casey looks at me and says, "Wow. I was having one of the worst days - until now. I really honestly feel better. I know it's going to take more than a talk on a park bench, but...thank you."

I nod. "So do you promise?"

"Yes. I promise."

I'm satisfied with that answer and I know she really means it.

We get up and start heading out of the park. I'm tired and need rest, and I know Casey does too. I tell her she can stay at my place for the night.

"Hope you're up for the challenge of being friends with Alex Cabot. I'm not easy. I can be moody, have to be always right, and I like to argue. You better keep me in line. It's an important job, Novak," I tell her as we're walking. "Others have tried and failed."

"Well I am pretty persistent and stubborn myself so I think I can handle it."

It makes me feel good to know I've finally gotten through to her. Maybe things will get better after all.

.2

It's been quite a busy and hectic week. I've been practically living at the office. My current case is a nightmare and a mess. I'm stressed every second of every day.

I know it's because I have too much else on my mind than to give myself one hundred percent to work.

Liam Connors is going on trial again. It was postponed because of what happened to me and Casey. So I have that to prepare for along with everything else on my plate.

I'll admit I'm having a hard time dealing with everything. I've been getting panic attacks again and have only been sleeping a few hours a night.

I want to talk to Casey about it but I can't burden her. She has too much going on as it is. She started therapy and I took the time to go to a movie with her a couple nights ago. She is still withdrawn and doesn't talk much but I think she's getting better. I make sure I'm strong for her, even though it's a facade.

On the inside I feel like I'm going to crumble at any time.

It's late Thursday evening when Olivia comes into my office. I'm engrossed in paperwork and a little irritated by her presence but I don't let on.

"I know you're busy; I'm sorry for dropping by. But I thought you might like to know that Casey was caught sneaking around the warehouse where you guys were being held."

I stop in mid pen stroke and look up at her. "Excuse me...what?"

"It's still a crime scene. She knows better than to be sneaking around a crime scene. Anyway, the police took her home." Olivia sits down in front of my desk. "Any idea why she would be there?"

I have absolutely no idea why Casey would want to ever set foot in that place again. No idea at all.

I sigh and put my head in my hands. This is the last thing I need right now. I had a bad enough headache as it is.

"No, I have no idea," I tell Olivia. I angrily gather up my paperwork and hastily put it away into the case file. "But I'm going to go find out."

Poor Alex. She's falling apart too. Will being strong be too much for her?