A/N: I seem to be on a roll. Hope you enjoy.

Wednesday, November 14th, 2007, around 12:30 pm

"Casey, do you want to get some food?" And all of a sudden the thought of food makes me feel nauseous. I run to Olivia's toilet, and thankfully I don't actually puke, but it takes me a few minutes to stand up again. Eamon follows closely behind me.

"Casey, are you ok?"

"I feel sick." He steadies me and feels my forehead.

"Maybe you're coming down with something." He frowns. "I think you have a fever."

"No E, it's not that." Oh fuck. Now I have to explain to my brother that I might get HIV. "Look, can we just talk?" I feel like I'm going to fall or pass out; maybe it's the meds, maybe it's the thought of talking about this. It's probably a combination of the two. Eamon grabs my shoulders and steers me toward the kitchen table where we sit.

"So I'm guessing that you don't want food?"

I sigh as I rest my head on the cold table, "I probably should eat. Elliot and Olivia and Adria have been forcing food upon me for the past few days."

"Good. When you got sick as a kid you always ate popsicles."

"Yeah, I remember. But I'm not actually sick."

"Case, what do you mean?"

I shut my eyes as tears come. "E, they gave me a bunch of drugs at the hospital and they have a lot of side effects. You see, the guy who… who raped me had AIDS. So the drugs might help keep me from getting the virus but they might not. And I won't know for a month."

E wraps his arms around me and kisses my head. And I think he's crying. My big brother is crying because of me, and I hate it. I hate Lietnen for doing this to Eamon, maybe more than I hate him for doing it to me.

"Look E, don't tell anyone yet. Not about the HIV. Not until I know. And please, please, don't tell dad; I'm afraid it would kill him."

"Casey, we won't tell him about the HIV yet if you don't want to, but he still needs to know the rest of what happened. Besides, dad is too tough to be killed by anything. He's only sixty-three; and you know he's not going to die until he decides it's God's time to take him. "

I smile for one moment, "Eamon, you realize that after we talk to him, he's going to ask Father Holt to pray for me."

"Casey, I'm going to ask Father Holt to pray for you. And you should talk to him sometime. He asks me about you."

"Well, he's been our priest for a long time. But I'm not sure I want him to pray for me."

"Why not?"

"I'm not sure I can handle divine intervention. Besides I'm not a good Catholic anymore so god will probably ignore me."

"I don't think it works that way Case."

I shrug "Eh, who knows? Just when you get to heaven say hi to mom for me, okay?"

"You can talk to her yourself. And we should call dad. Now."

"E, I don't want anyone else in the family to know yet. I'll tell them in person when we're together at thanksgiving, okay?"

"We'll tell dad that."

I take Olivia's phone and call dad's house, hoping that he won't be home. He's got his pension, but he still volunteers, and sometimes works. I dial and after two and a half rings dad picks up. I put him on speaker phone.

"Hi daddy." My voice quavers. I almost never call my father daddy anymore, so he knows something's wrong.

"Casey, are you alright?"

"Dad I'm here with Eamon, and I need to talk to you. You're on speaker phone."

"Eamon? I thought you had a meeting now."

"Dad, this is more important."

"Eamon what happened? Angel, what's wrong?" Eamon looks at me as if to say, I can tell him if you want. But I shake my head. My father needs to hear this from me; even if I feel sick, and tired, and terrified, he needs to hear it from me.

"Dad. I'm ok, but there's something I have to tell you. I wish I didn't have to say this over the phone, but you should know. I…" I start crying. "I was attacked in my home on Friday night and he…" I can't breath, I choke on tears, but I say it anyways, "he raped me."

"What happened to the man who attacked you? Did the police get him?" He sounds angrier than I've ever heard him.

"Ah – he's dead daddy, I wanted him to stop, and he had a gun, and I grabbed it and shot him with it." It is quiet for a long moment

"Are you – how badly are you injured?"

I can't speak anymore, "Dad, she's alright. She has a small concussion, a broken wrist, and bruises and cuts."

"Casey, I'll come down as soon as I can get a flight."

I'm still gasping for air but I manage to speak, "No – I'll be okay dad. I have friends who are helping me, and I'll come home early for thanksgiving. Please."

"Casey, why don't you come now? I'm sure your brother won't mind. Or you could stay in your old room."

"I wouldn't mind dad, but I understand if Case wants to stay with Detective Benson for a few days. With the kids – well, it will be pretty noisy and they'll want to climb all over Aunt Casey, whether she's at your house or mine." I give my brother a look of undying gratitude. He understands that I don't want to be smothered.

"Well, alright. But you make sure her friends are taking care of her."

"I will."

"Casey, I'll ask Father Holt to pray for you."

"Thanks dad," I say. "Look, dad – please don't tell Carrick and Bri yet. I'd rather tell them in person when we're all home."

"Alright Casey, I won't. But call me tomorrow." The way he speaks it's not a request.

"Yes daddy."

"Do you mind if I talk to your brother alone?"

"No, It's ok. I love you daddy." (I know that dad wants to talk about me with Eamon and while it's sort of annoying I'm still my dad's little angel, and Eamon is still the responsible big brother; nothing will change that for my dad, so I might as well accept it.)

"I love you angel." Then Eamon takes the phone and turns off the speakerphone.

I walk across the apartment, and curl up on the airbed. I feel numb, and my head is buzzing. But my father didn't freak out. Of course, my father never freaks out. As a kid the only time I ever saw him cry was when mom died. He came home crying and told my aunt (who was staying with us kids while mom was in labor) and us what happened. He cried at her funeral. He cried for a moment when Milan Zergin beat me up. But that's it.

When dad and Eamon are done talking fifteen minutes later Eamon comes over and sits next to me on the bed. "Casey I know that you're probably tired, but there are some other things I want to ask you."

I'm still starting off into space, but I say, "Ok, shoot."

"Casey, do you mind if I tell Mary? You know I can't lie to her about anything and this is…"

I know my brother can't keep something like this from his wife, and I wouldn't ask him to. Besides Mary has one of the biggest hearts of anyone I know. "Yeah E, you can tell, it's fine. Just make sure she doesn't panic. I don't want her to worry about me, okay?"

"Alright."

"Casey, the other thing is – I just don't want you to go back to your old apartment."

I snort, "Neither do I E. I'm staying with Olivia now, but I'll have to find a place. I might have to couch surf for a few weeks if Olivia needs space, but I have friends who'd put me up. With rent what it is, it might take me a while to find something decent."

"Look, I'll help you buy an apartment. You pick out a safe apartment in a building and neighborhood that you like, and I'll help you cover the mortgage. Or if you want to rent I'll help you with that"

"E – I can't. I can't ask you to do that for me!"

"Casey, do you think I chose to climb the corporate ladder because I enjoy the long hours? I do it for Mary, the kids, and you. Because I want to make sure that if you need anything, I can give it to you."

I start crying. Again. This is just how Eamon is. He saw how our father worked hard long hours of physical labor and fretting over the bills at night. He worked after school every day and would have dropped out of high school and gotten a full time job if dad had let him. After he graduated from college and married Mary he worked and went to business school at the same time.

"Don't cry Casey. I want to help. Making one fifty grand a year has it's perks. And there's a good chance that the company will going public soon – we have a bunch of venture capitalists looking at it. If that happens we'll never have to worry about money again."

I smile, "You know E, I really have no idea what you do."

"We make hardware and software. I'm the CFO."

"So you think you're so special?" I smile.

"Only because you're my sister." He ruffles my hair. "Now I'm going to call your Olivia and ask her to bring you some popsicles."

"Since when is she my Olivia?"

"Since she started acting like your patron saint."

A/N: I had a very hard time picturing Casey saying 'daddy', but I figured that if something like that happened regressing a little would be normal. Aside from that I wanted to show her getting more used to telling people she was raped – not that the event seems less traumatic, just that she is more able to admit that she was a victim.

A question for anyone kind enough to review: Do I use the word Okay too much? It's a very common word in my vocabulary, but I wonder if it's starting to be a verbal/writing tic… It is what I always seem to say when I'm speaking to my parents. "ok, ok, ok…" sort of like plugging my ears and saying "la, la, la…"

Another question for Catholics out there: do you pray/ask priests to pray for someone? I don't know how that works.

Please Review, : ) I love it. AND, as I said before, if you write, and you review my story, I will review your story.