Thanks to LiveLoveLikeMe and karenina bubo for reviewing, and again, I'm very sorry for the mix-up last chapter.
Chapter 11
Casey rolled over in the uncomfortable hospital bed, wincing slightly and smiling at the two detectives in her room. She'd ripped out a couple of her stitches and fractured three of her ribs in two places, but there were no other new injuries. She was trapped in the hospital for four days, now, at least. Casey was not too happy about it, but the detectives were agreeing with the doctor, and it seemed as if they weren't going to let her be alone for a while.
Linda tentatively poked her head in the hospital room and smiled at the ADA. "Hey, Case," she said softly. "Shelly's here to see you. Can she come in?"
Casey looked up hopefully in surprise, nodding immediately as she pushed herself up onto her elbows. Linda moved aside and allowed the little girl to walk slowly inside.
The bruising had gone down a lot, but the darkness in her eyes hadn't totally disappeared. The young child looked as contrite and guilty as the boy who broke the neighbor's window with a baseball. "I think you have something to tell your Aunt Casey," Linda told her softly when Shelly remained silent, her face bright red in embarrassment.
"I'm... I'm sorry, Aunt Casey," she mumbled before clearing her throat and speaking louder. "I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have said you hurt Daddy. I didn't know that you were keeping Daddy away from me and Mama. I... I don't know what was going on, I was just scared, and- and Daddy-"
"Shh," Casey told her, shaking her head and smiling at her. "It's okay, honey," she said softly. "I don't blame you. I know you didn't mean it."
Shelly smiled hesitantly at her, raising her eyes to look at him. "I... but... really? You're not mad at me?'
Casey shook her head. "No, sweetie. I don't." She yawned, then, hiding it with her hand, but Linda saw and squeezed her daughter's shoulder.
"Hey, Shelly," she said softly, "Why don't we go home, let Casey get some rest. We can come back and visit her tomorrow."
Casey opened her mouth to protest, but the look both Linda and the detectives gave her shut her up. "All right..." Shelly trailed off, still sad. "You promise you're not mad at me?"
"Of course not, baby." Casey reached for her hand and squeezed it gently before allowing the young girl to leave.
After the door had closed on the Novaks, Olivia turned to Casey, smiling at her. "See? I told you Shelly wasn't really scared of you. She just needed some time to process what happened, that's all." The ADA just shrugged and played with the hospital ID bracelet around her wrist, fighting sleep and avoiding the detectives' gazes.
"Hey, Casey," Elliot told her, watching her carefully and smiling in amusement. "You do know that if you don't give in and let yourself get some sleep, Olivia and I will call the doctor in and have him sedate you?" Casey chuckled while Olivia nodded in agreement, and with all the drugs coursing through her system, it was so easy to believe that sleep could be a possibility... that she could sleep and nothing bad would happen.
Olivia smiled when she saw Casey's breathing even out and deepen, squeezing the now sleeping ADA's hand before glancing up at Elliot. "You think she's going to be okay?" she asked him. He just shrugged.
"I can't answer that question, Liv. You know Casey, she's tough as nails, but she also doesn't know how to ask for help when she needs it... and she wasn't just raped, she's been beaten half to death too many times to count."
"Sixty five," a voice said from the doorway. Elliot and Olivia looked up to see their Munch standing in the doorway, Fin behind him. "She was beaten sixty five times, atleast. That's how many different hospital visits she recorded."
Elliot sighed, shaking his head. "I still can't believe we didn't notice anything."
Munch repeated what he had told Fin earlier. "Casey didn't want us to notice, and she was pretty god damn good at hiding it... how's she doing? And not just on the physical front."
Elliot and Olivia glanced at the sleeping ADA for a moment before the female detective said, "Moody, I guess, and she's not been saying too much about what happened. I'm not sure how much of that was because of what Shelly told her, though- she only just went to sleep, right after Shelly came and apologized. Everything else, I'm sure you can guess for yourselves- not admitting to any pain, overworking herself as much as she can, considering she's in the hospital. I'm not sure if she's just processing everything internally, or if she's in denial."
They were all quiet for a moment before Munch finally said, "Tracey Kibre got Mark arraigned, and he's on remand- no bail. He wasn't too happy about it, obviously. Trial's set in three days."
Elliot and Olivia looked up at him in surprise. "Three days?" Olivia asked uncertainly. "That's pretty quick."
"Judges don't like abusive bastards who rape their sisters, especially when said sister is an Assistant District Attorney. Big shock, Trevor Langan's the defense attorney- he's always had it in for Casey." Olivia shook her head again, reaching over to stroke Casey's cold hand.
"Is she being called as a witness, or just Linda?" Elliot asked worriedly- he wasn't sure if Casey could handle being called to testify. Then again, before all of this, none of them would of thought Casey was strong enough to survive what she had these past three months. They knew she was tough, but- no one could be strong enough to survive that. Somehow, though, Casey had.
Munch shrugged helplessly. "Tracey has to call her- she's the only one who can testify to what exactly went on in that warehouse. Shelly would need a swearability hearing because she's the only five, and besides, Linda thinks she's too traumatized to go through it, and I'm inclined to agree with her. You know how vicious Langan can be with victims on the stand. Casey will be able to hold her own, but not Shelly. Besides, according to what Linda said, she's the only one who can testify to what Mark did and said when he beat and raped her."
Silence reigned for a moment, everybody watching Casey uncertainly, wondering what had given her the strength to endure the torture for three long months. Finally, Munch said, "El, Liv, IAB wants to talk to you because of how Casey disappeared and Shelly was kidnapped. Cragen's kept them off your ass so far, but they're not going to forget about this- might as well talk to them sooner rather than later."
Fin saw Olivia glance protectively at the ADA, uncertain, and said, "We'll stay with Casey, make sure she doesn't break out of the hospital again."
Chuckling softly, Elliot and Olivia agreed and got up to leave. Fin and Munch claimed the visitors' chairs while Casey shifted in her medicated sleep, unaware of what was going on around her, only what images of the past her mind had put up for her to relive, unwilling to let her rest fully, even now that everything was over.
Little fourteen year old Casey laughed as she typed away on her computer. Well, perhaps little was the wrong word- the home that she and her brother lived in quickly stole the innocence of any child, but they were both getting by. Surviving- and they were happy. "Hey, Casey," Mark told her, coming to sit down next to her. "I'm going rock climbing after dinner. You want to come?"
Casey sighed, shaking her head at the mention of her older brother's favorite pastime, something she enjoyed doing as well.. "Mark, come on, you know I have to study for my chemistry test. The SATs are coming up and I'm not even in high school yet, I have to study!"
"Come on," he tempted again, taking the thick college text from her hands. "Casey, come on. I know you're only taking those tests so you can get into college sooner- and, more importantly, get out of the house… Hey, I'll tell you what, I'll look over the chapter you're working on, tell you what you need to know for the test. And we could be back in plenty of time for you to study, anyways."
Once again, she shook her head and exclaimed, "Mark, you have never taken the Chemistry SAT! You don't know what's on it! ...Look, I'm sorry, I do want to go climbing, but… want is the wrong word. I can't. Sorry." When Mark continued to try and convince her, she got tired of it and stood up, walking over to the kitchen. "Mark," she said playfully, "Should I just go practice piano and continue this discussion? Because my answer will still be the same."
Out of nowhere, Casey found herself on the floor, Mark on top of her, pinning both her small wrists in one of his huge, strong hands. But he wasn't playing- he wasn't smiling, he wasn't laughing, he was furious. Gasping in panic, Casey tried to escape, but her petite body struggling against his muscular one was about as effective as someone trying to lift the Empire State Building with their pinky. He was over half a foot taller than her, 21, and could do a pull-up with only two fingers. She was a fourteen year old girl.
Casey tried to worm her way out of his grasp, but he was too strong. She wanted to scream, wanted to scream so loud the neighbors heard and called the cops, but she didn't have the air to do anything but wheeze, trying desperately to fill her lungs with much-needed oxygen, but he was squeezing her chest so tight she couldn't. He flipped her over onto her stomach and good god, it hurt, and now he was on her back, still pinning her hands. Her legs couldn't reach him and she still can't breathe. "Stop fighting!" he snarled at her, gripping her wrists even tighter. "You won't win against me! Stop fighting!"
There are two points of view at once in Casey's head right then- one was saying, 'Wow, if he keeps squeezing you any tighter, he could break some ribs,', but the other was fighting on instinct alone, trying to get away from attacker but finding it impossible. She was just a little girl, a dust speck caught in the winds of fate, unable to stop death from rearing up on its heels ad claiming her life.
He forced her body to contort into many painful positions that she had absolutely no control over, but then, when she was on her chest again, she saw the bowl up against the wall and her animalistic instincts reached out to grab the suddenly gleaming opportunity. Casey grabbed the bowl and slammed it against him three times in a row. The plastic cracked in half twice, rendering her weapon unusable, but it didn't matter- he flipped her again, forcing her to her knees, and gripping her wrist, jacking her arm behind her back. The logical part of her mind recognized it as the way to dislocate someone's shoulder as he forced it higher, but her arm caught fire and a shout erupted from her throat, robbing her of her the oxygen that was quickly becoming harder and harder to get.
"Stop!" the man called from the couch, but in Casey's dream, he was faceless and had no name, no identity. "That's enough."
Neither child knew which the man was reprimanding, but Mark wasn't stopping, and Casey found herself trying to quiet down, stop attracting his attention, stop bothering him as she was flipped onto her chest again, Mark's knee digging into her back. The logical part was shouting, now- 'I don't want to be reprimanded, I want your help!' Didn't matter, though, she didn't have the air to talk. And the logical part continued to work, independent of her instincts, and realized she was wheezing, and that was wrong. She tried to control her breathing but couldn't; she couldn't take any deeper breaths, he was on top of her, so heavy and strong her chest couldn't expand enough to breathe, and the physical stress on her body wasn't helping. But that was all her logic talking, her instincts were still fighting.
She realized, then, with his current position , she could kick him- and did. She brought her leg back, smashing her heel into his back over and over, and it must have hurt him, because he suddenly forced her to her knees again, gripping her arms tightly, and her instincts and logic collided. Her instincts told her, slam your head up into his jaw, do it now, it could help, do it now! But her logic was shouting at her, warning her- it'll cause a concussion, you won't remember anything, don't don't don't! But it didn't matter, she was fighting for her life, and she did it, slamming her head up into his jaw once, and it doesn't hurt, there's no pain, and she does it again, and the man on the couch speaks up again and Mark flips her once more, and her fight continues.
As the sun sets, both on the outside world and on her life, Mark abruptly lets her go, backing up while Casey, shaking violently, too shocked to believe what was happening but her instincts still alert crawled closer to the dying light, away from Mark, wrapping her arms around her knees, hiding her face with her hair, wheezing past clenched teeth.
"See? You couldn't get away," Mark said triumphantly, having not even broken in a sweat in Casey's frantic battle for life. "And look, you're breathing so hard because you're scared."
'No, you idiot,' her instincts shouted, 'I'm breathing like this because you just nearly beat me to death!' But her logic told her no, don't speak up, because she didn't have the air and didn't want to provoke him again, anyway.
He continues to lecture her, but her blurred dream skips over to the end of their one-sided conversation, when he says, "You know, I bet if I tried to touch you right now, you wouldn't let me."
When he gets up and begins to walk over to her, her instincts scream two things at once- to run for her life, and to smile- because she and Mark had played many games similar to this when they were young, and she was trying to deny what had just happened, already, because it couldn't have happened, her brother couldn't have hurt this badly. She danced and spun away from him as quickly as she could, ducking under his ravenous grip and running to her room. Mark hovered in the doorway, telling her, "Casey, when you're ready to come to dinner, tell us. If you're not going to come, tell us so we can go."
Shaking slightly and feeling the tightness in her chest, the tickle in her throat from lack of oxygen, Casey slowly pulled off her gym shorts and put on a pair of jeans, every sound from the other room making her react like a chorus of gunshots had just been fired off. Her nerves raw and her heart pounding, she glanced at her piano, knowing what she had to do to calm down. She walked over and began playing Kiss the Rain. The soft, sweet melodies arcing over the lower bass line, carrying her forward, gave her what she wanted- a welcome distraction, and a calming one. Her fingers danced quickly over the keys, and, for once, when she reached the key change, she welcomed the change instead of cringing when the chords reached her ears, realizing the tender sweetness of the softer, slower melodies- because some change had to be a good thing, right? She drifted to the end notes, her fingers slowing, having stopped shaking long ago, and ended it. After holding onto the notes for a moment, she felt for her pulse in her left wrist, then smiled slightly. Mission accomplished- she'd calmed herself down.
"Casey!" A distant voice called, and she felt someone's hand on her shoulder. She shook him off, groaning at whoever it was, too tired, too sluggish to fight him off. "Casey, honey," the voice called him. "You okay?"
I don't know!
"Are you okay, Casey?"
I don't know!
"CASEY!"
Casey opened her eyes to see Munch shaking her by the shoulders, his expression worried. "Case?" he called again, watching her carefully. "You okay?" he repeated.
She took a deep breath, nodding shakily. "Yeah," she said after a moment. "Yeah, I'm okay." Munch let go of her and let her have her space, still watching to make sure she was okay. Sighing softly, Casey looked around the room, self-consciously pulling the blanket over herself, trying to maintain a shred of dignity.
"It sounded like you were having a nightmare, so my partner tried to wake you up," Fin said as an explanation.
Blushing slightly, Casey smiled in thanks and pushed herself up onto her elbows, sitting up straighter despite the shockwave of pain it caused. When her head spun and she felt more than slightly dizzy, she leaned her head back against the pillows, blinking rapidly so she could see. "Why are you guys here?" she asked curiously, looking in between the two detectives. "You do know that I'm a big girl, I'm old enough to be left home alone, right? I'm not going to throw a party or burn down the house."
Fin and Munch both laughed without real humor, though they were both contented in the fact that she hadn't shut down completely; that the Casey they all knew and loved was still in there. "Case," Fin started, "El and Liv are down at the station, being worked at by IAB, because of Shelly's kidnapping. Don't worry, nothing's going to come of it, the rat squad is just sticking their noses in where they don't belong, as usual."
Casey frowned guiltily, trying to convince herself that nothing was going to happen to Elliot and Olivia before she cleared her throat and said, "Trial... trial's in three days. I have to get out before then. I've got to be there for Linda and Shelly; I'm not going to-"
"Casey," Munch interrupted sharply, trying to get her to look at him, "you have been there for those two every single day for the past three months. It's time that you take care of yourself."
"Come on," she tried again, "the doctor said four days, can't I just leave a day early? I have to be there for the trial."
Fin and Munch just sighed, knowing that nothing they said would convince her. Casey was stubborn, hard-headed, and driven to protect others and strive for justice, regardless of the cost to herself. Finally, Fin said, "Case, baby, we can talk to the doctors for you, but if you rip out a single stitch, you know Liv's gonna hog tie you and bring you right back here, right?"
Casey chuckled, nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, that's our Liv... thanks, you guys, I appreciate this. You know, the fact that you're here with me when you've got a hell of a lot of better things to do."
"You know, Casey, you're not as alone in this as you think. I'm not going to pretend that anyone understands what's been going on these past three months, but that doesn't mean we're just going to hang you out to dry. If you need anything, all you have to do is ask."
The ADA sighed and crossed her arms, looking away. She was this close to telling her secret. This close. But not yet; fear of being rejected, hated, the inevitable change of people treating her like a weak, pathetic victim... she wasn't going to open her mouth. Everything would be better if she just kept her silence.
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