I stared at Alex. She looked white as a sheet. "You really think he'd do that?" she asked me, voice breathy.

"There's a reason Monica fought so hard to keep this-" I made a generic circular gesture around my stomach, my hands shaking almost uncontrollably. "-Out of the case. Alex, nothing in the New York Penal Code or the Civil Code says a man either accused or convicted of rape cannot appeal for custody or visitation of a child conceived of that same rape. If he does it, if he pulls that stunt, I know judges who would grant him something – either of them – if the paternity test indicated he was the father. I do not, do not, do not, do not want David or Tommy to ever lay a finger on our daughter."

I was damn near beside myself as I collapsed onto the floor of the baby's room. Packing my bag aside, Alex had spent the day packing and moving my office into the living room, rearranging the living room so that everything fit together nicely. She had even taped the walls in Temperance's room and had been in the middle of painting the walls with the muted celery green paint I had indulged in purchasing for precisely that. I sobbed on the carpet, barely noticing or acknowledging her fabulous effort. Donnelly had been right. I was in hot water if he decided to be a vindictive bastard and petition for paternity. Hell, he could ask to call my daughter from jail, and I wasn't even thinking about David. David, I thought I could circumvent as long as the protective order was in place for the kidnapping and attempted murder. When he had laid in wait for me in the apartment, before striking me unconscious, before kidnapping me, he had believed me to be pregnant and committed those acts with depraved indifference. Yes, I believed I could circumvent him at least until he was out of prison simply by adding Tem to the protective order. That he would display so much violence towards the child while in utero tended to indicate too violent a general nature for healthy prolonged exposure to the same child. Not always, but the fact that he had shot me as well would probably swag most judges to rule in my favor.

No, my worry had grafted to Tommy. He would be out in eight to twelve for the rape I was prosecuting him for following conviction, minus time served. In eight to twelve years, my daughter would still be a child, a child much too young to be explained her origins. But, even before that, Tommy could ask for telephonic communication with her if he was the father, and without a judge to allow that restraining order, I was doomed to allow it. Even with a conviction and a restraining order protecting me, there was no guarantee that a judge would allow for it to cover Tem. A rapist could still be a good father. I didn't believe it, but I could see why someone might.

I tucked my cheek against my knees, my hands clawing at my scalp. "I won't, Alex. I won't. I won't. I won't. I'll go to jail before he can talk to her, Alex."

The blond, green paint on her hands and smeared across her left cheek into her hair, wrapped herself around me. I had already explained the conversation I had with both Cragen and Donnelly and the advice I had received to her. Alex was able to logically point out the benefits and draw backs to each segment which included whether or not I would raise suspicions with either of them if I filed so late in the game. Then again, if I filed, I would simply say David and three other men whom I did not know. "Reporting the assault may not stop them, Casey, if they want to continue to hurt you. It sounds like Tommy wants to hurt not only you, but the woman he raped that he's on trial for – the way he's going through this trial is unusual, even for defense counsel. There's no doubt in my mind he's a sadist. And, we know David wants to hurt you. But, you also don't have to report the baby in the case, honey. Just what happened that night. It may not deny either of them the ability to petition, but a sensible judge may hear the case and see that such a level of depravity and violence would not bode well in the life of a child."

She stroked my hair out several times before adding, "I want you to talk to my Uncle Bill in January when we get back from Ireland. Tell him the situation, minus me, and let him know that we were lovers before I died – he was super supportive of me, Casey, and I know he'll be grateful if you stopped by anyway. Plus, he'll do what he can to help you, Casey, if it comes down to it."

She wedged my chin up so I looked at her. Blinking rapidly to combat the threat of tears, I stared at her, trying to focus on being pissed that I was so easily brought to tears over this matter rather than the actual matter itself. "Casey, I know it's scary to think about this, but is there a reason this came up? Or, are you just being paranoid?"

Shaking my head, I stood up and walked out of the baby's room to the kitchen table where my briefcase sat alone, and I tugged out a pice of printer paper with handwritten, blocky letters across it. I had stapled the note to the envelope it had come in, a letter free of my name, only addressed to the District Attorney's Office with my specific office number printed neatly where the name should have gone. "There's no name," I told her. "The deputies wouldn't have known my office number to circumvent it. Even so, I never asked them to not forward me mail he wrote to me. It's just that this is the first piece I've gotten." I handed the note over.

You will pay for what you did. His blood is on your hands, and there is such a possibility that he would have been my son that I will find you, and I will destroy everything you love.

"Casey," Alex breathed. "He threatened you. You need to report this."

I scoffed. "And how will I explain what the note is about? There's no express threat in there, but if Tommy's anything like David, and I imagine he is, it's threat enough for him to follow through on." I took the note back and placed it back in my attaché, my nails digging into my palms as my hands automatically closed into tight fists. In that moment, I lost every ounce of control I had been fighting so hard to keep. Screaming in frustration, I hit the wall with my open palm. I screamed as I hit the wall over and over, my flat palms turning into the sides of my fists until Alex was pulling at my hands. "No," I screamed. "No. He can't have her. He can't touch her. She is mine, Alex. Mine."

The blond had put herself between me and the wall, and I turned on myself, my nails raking over my neck and arms. Alex moved, but I had already lost control. Screaming wordlessly, I tore at my body and clothes. Words were entirely beyond me, and I had no idea where Alex had gone. The next thing I could comprehend was something soft against my skin, my arms pinned against my by both the blanket around me and the arms covering it. Standing in the middle of the room, I quivered and sobbed. "Please don't hurt me."

"No one's gonna hurt you, Case. Least of all me." Alex's voice was soft in my ear. "If I let you go, are you going to be okay?" I nodded. "You promise?"

"I promise. I'm sorry." I was thoroughly embarrassed. It didn't matter that Alex had never once judged me. I should not have lost control. I spent my entire life relying on being in control. Control was everything, and I had lost most of it over the past few years. In fact, my life had been on a downhill spiral since law school. This life that Alex was giving me was so entirely brand new, and old habits died hard. The blanket fell from my body, replaced by Alex's warm skin against mine. I held on to her arms, whimpering softly at the back of my throat.

"It's okay, Casey. I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you ro her. I told you I would fight for you tooth and nail, and when I said that, I meant it. That promise never goes away and extends to any and all of your children and mine." She kissed my cheek softly, and I leaned back into her. "We will find a way around it, ma petite; even if it means that we must wait for them to make the first move."

I nodded my assent. "Okay," I whispered. "Okay."

"Good girl," Alex mumbled against my neck. "I promise, Casey, evil does not go unanswered. We can't get them in the courtroom every single time, but they will be punished elsewhere. Maybe not immediately, but I promise, I promise, they get their own somewhere."

Twisting in her arms, I looked my arms around her neck and laced my fingers, my thumbs tracing her spine. "What am I doing?" I asked. "This is so far from who I am. What the fuck is happening to me, Alex?"

Her arms slid low to my back, and she just held me against her much like I had held her the day prior. "You've been through a lot in the past six months, Casey, and that doesn't even address the past few years. You created a shell to survive, honey, and, to be honest, I think that shield is breaking. Your pouring through the cracks like a newborn calf. Case, it takes a while to learn to walk. Don't be so hard on yourself. It's finally safe for you to explore yourself and grow into you, not morph from one shape to the next as you go from place to place, quiet and hiding and afraid. You're loud, emotional, and expressive. And, that's great. I love that about you. But, when have you ever honestly been allowed to be that?"

I pressed my lips together tightly. I didn't know. I felt like Pinocchio, fresh from a world suspended by strings, not knowing reality from make believe, the difference between right and wrong. My strings had been trimmed and began to fray when I found out I was pregnant and truly started to pull away from David, afraid, but defiant. Even more, they had bubbled beneath the fabric when I transferred to SVU, suddenly aware that there was more to life that destinations, a little girl in my arms on the pier. Finally, though, that last little thread in my ropes snapped when I met Alex. In fact, I was fairly certain that they severed completely in that brief moment between wakefulness and unconscious delirium as I lay bleeding out on Alexandra Cabot's kitchen floor, the blond the first person to selflessly stand up for me except, maybe, Robert. But even my older brother, I questioned. Fuck, even I was self serving more often than not. And, I wasn't saying that Alex was not self serving. She had earned that reputation rightfully. But, in that one moment, she had shot him. The police were en route. She would have been safer to stay upstairs. The only person that bullet benefited was me; it saved my life. Everything about Alex's life had been disrupted – again. Yet, she had still done it.

"I don't care if you scream, Casey, but I will step in if you hurt yourself, got it?"

I nodded into the crook of her neck. "Yes," I said. "Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me, Case. I do it because I genuinely love you and care about you. Now, go take a shower, honey. You managed to get yourself pretty good in a few places." She looked pointedly at the blood on my upper arms. My nails were sharper than I had thought. Or, my anguish had made me just too blind to the sting of broken skin. "I'll be right here when you get back."

"You promise?" I asked, feeling young and foolish. It took a moment for me to remember that, yes, I was young. Senior ADA, Harvard graduate with a Juris Doctorate, and more convictions under my belt than I knew what to do with, and I was only twenty nine. Twenty nine with a very successfully career, a baby on the way, and a whole mess of other problems, problems that other women my age just never had to deal with.

"I promise, Casey."

And, so it was that I came to stand under the hot shower, my hands coiled to my chest as I stared straight ahead at the wall. I concentrated on just feeling the shower, the pellets of water, the kiss of steam, the faux marble beneath my feet. I focused until I felt the tightening sensation low in my pelvic region, like a fist inside me trying to squeeze an orange. It took a few seconds for the discomfort to grow enough to break my focus on the water, and when it did, I gasped.

Instinctively, my hands shot out in front of me, pressing against the wall as I slid to a crouch. The pain died away, and I leaned back against the shower wall. "Tem, you're killing Mommy. I love you, baby, but could you give Mommy some warning before you do that?"

I knew Braxton Hicks contractions weren't her fault, but whomever it was that said they were painless had never had children. It wasn't pain precisely. Being shot was pain. Being beaten was pain. Being raped was pain. This was like a mild discomfort in comparison. Tipping my head back, I rubbed my stomach, front and low, where the discomfort tended to isolate. My OB had given me a list of things to look out for indicating a need to go to the hospital. So far, I was doing okay not going in.

"Uh, uh. Kid, knock it off," I grumbled, closing my eyes as the same tightness coiled through me until I stuck my right leg almost straight out, my left leg curled near my chest. Moving so that the water fell directly over my abdomen, I rubbed my stomach. "Let me get out of the shower, and I'll drink some water."

It wasn't uncommon for me to dehydrate myself, and I was learning that the longer I went between drinking ample amounts of water, the worse the discomfort became. Standing up, I turned off the water and wrapped the towel around me. Still dripping, I trailed water through the bedroom and living room into the kitchen. Alex raised a brow from where she was cutting fruit out onto a small plate – she really was fantastically good at getting food in me, even when I forgot or didn't feel like it. I grabbed a glass and filled it with water, gulping it down. The more that cascaded over my tongue, the more my body suddenly demanded. It was like I couldn't quench my thirst.

After four glasses in less than a minute, though, Alex grabbed my hand, pulling the glass from my fingers. "Casey, what's wrong?" I cringed as another whip of pain gnawed between my hip bones.

"I'm just thirsty, Alex," I mumbled, reaching for the glass. She pulled it back from me. I pouted, the pain traveling down my right leg in a slight throb. I felt suddenly and incredibly dizzy. "Lex."

"No. Drinking like that is more than thirsty. Go sit down. At this point, food will probably do you better. The baby would probably appreciate the calories. Did you even eat after breakfast?"

Frowning, I shook my head. Alex tossed her head in the direction of the living room. I went, managing to fall not just over my own feet but also the coffee table which had been moved earlier that day.

"Casey?" Alex called. I heard the clatter of the knife against the counter not even a second after I crashed onto the floor with a groan.

"I'm okay," I said quickly as I sat up, clutching my towel around me. "I forgot you moved the furniture."

Hands on her hips, she looked down at me, frown playing over her lips. "Maybe," she conceded. "What aren't you telling me, though? And, Casey, please don't lie. I'm not going to be mad or freak out." She looked so sad for a second that I nearly burst into tears. I hated that my actions put that look on her face. I hated that I was so accustomed to covering myself that even when she accepted me, I had to hide. I flinched sometimes when she touched me. God, I loved her, but that feral part of my brain just took over sometimes, and it remembered all too well the abuse. Animals, I thought, must remember abuse more so than love. It must come more naturally to react from abuse, and that made my heart hurt.

I shook my head. "Nothing," I protested, barely able to look indignant at the all too accurate accusation she was making that I was keeping something from her.

"Casey," Alex sighed, crouching down at my side. I drew my legs to me, trying to be inconspicuous about the fifth twitch of semi-pain racing through my lower abdomen and pelvic region/ The sensation eased almost as soon as I moved every time it started. I still wasn't particularly worried. Simply having been a medic, my best guess was that all of this was psychosomatic. I was stressed out and freaking out, so now the baby was, too.

"I'm going to go lay down," I muttered, standing. "Too much is going on right now, Alex. I think the stress is just making me a little dizzy."

Alex bit her lip as though I hadn't quite convinced her that it was all that was going on. "You're the medic," she finally said. "But, Casey, you'll tell me if something's wrong?"

I nodded as I stood up, her hand clasping in mine to pull me standing. My legs felt weak, and I was dizzy, but I managed to walk to the bedroom, towel clutched tight around me in my fist. I had enough sense to pull on a sweatshirt under Alex's watchful eye before crawling between the sheets. Alex leaned over me as I sat propped on my elbows and kissed my forehead. "You have a fever," she mumbled.

I only nodded. I was out before I remembered hitting the pillow, before I remembered her standing and leaning away from me. The sleep was dreamless, but I awoke with a start to Alex over me again, this time, a glass of water in one hand and a true look of concern etched into her face.

"Casey," she murmured as I blinked my eyes open and stared up at her, trembling and covered in sweat. "I called the Ask-a-Nurse hotline. Are you still on blood thinners?" I nodded. She plucked something out of her hand, then offered the contents to me. "Take these. You have a fever."

I picked three reddish, round pills from her hand and popped them into my mouth, not even taking the time to consider what they were. "I told her you were pregnant. She said it was still okay," Alex said by way of explanation. I took the water glass from her, downing it in much the same way I had downed the other glasses, before I had fallen asleep.

Alex disappeared. I wasn't really sure if she said anything, but when she returned, she had a full glass of water. Setting it on the bedside table near me, she sat down beside me. Automatically, I curled against her. "You don't feel well at all, do you, honey?" I shook my head, my hand draping around her hips. "Alright, love. Go back to sleep."

She moved to stand up, but I pulled her tighter to the bed. "Stay," I mumbled. "Need you to stay."

"Okay," she whispered, stroking my hair. As she did that, I felt for the first time that my hair was practically plastered to my head. I was soaked in sweat, shaking, and she still crawled in bed beside me, her arms wrapping tight around my body as she pulled me against her.

The words, at first, were soft, and I could hardly understand them, but as I calmed my breathing and just listened to her whispered song, I could hear the words.

"When you're cold, I'll be there/ Hold you tight to me/ When you're on the outside, baby, and you can't get in/ I will show you, you're so much better than you know/ When you're lost and you're alone and you can't get back again/ I will find you, darling and I will bring you home/ And if you want to cry/ I am here to dry your eyes/ And, in no time, you'll be fine."