Disclaimer: Do you really think if I owned this, I'd be sitting around writing fanfiction?
CHAPTER TWO
DOINK-DOINK
Caroline returned home that night to a dark apartment and the smell of smoke. Coughing, she made her way into the bedroom, seeing Catherine sitting on the bed Caroline had provided for her, watching television and smoking a cigarette.
"When did you start smoking?" asked Caroline in shock.
"Sorry," said Catherine, putting it out. "I'm not addicted or anything. I've smoked maybe twice in three years. I'm just stressed right now. I'm supposed to go back to Art & Soul tomorrow."
"Yeah…I saw the picture."
Catherine muted the television. "Are you serious? They actually showed that to you?"
"Yeah, and I have to say, it scared me."
"Scared me, too."
"We checked out Lewis Moore," said Caroline. "He had a few parking violations, but nothing else. So he's not a sex offender."
"Or he just hasn't been reported. I know how a lot of it works. Isn't it something like sixty percent of all rapes go unreported?" Catherine reasoned. "You saw the drawing. You saw what he…thinks about. How is it possible that he wouldn't be turned on by that, sick as it is?"
"I wish I could prove it, but unless he has actually physically assaulted someone, there's nothing I can do about it."
Catherine groaned and put the sound back on the TV. Caroline went over to her own bed and flopped down on it, pulling off her hat and some more hair as she did so. Catherine watched her.
"Do you miss it?" she asked softly.
"Miss what?" asked Caroline.
"The field."
Caroline sighed. "Yeah, I do, but the way I see it, when I come back, I'll be a better detective than ever because I'll want it so badly. I'll have waited so long that it'll be just long enough to make me really fiery and ready to go. And if I have it my way, I'll be the lead detective on my first case back. At least, that's what I'll propose to Cragen."
Catherine grinned at her older sister. "You'll get it. You've done a great job here. Everyone really likes you from what they've told me."
"By the way, John says to let you know that there's a special on Wednesday night about JFK," said Caroline as she kicked off her shoes.
"Fantastic," said Catherine. "Oh, and do you remember that girl I was telling you about?"
"What was her name? Amy?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah, I remember. What about her?"
"We're going out on Friday night. Well, we will be if I'm not being raped in any more pictures, because if that happens, there's no way I'm going anywhere," said Catherine.
Caroline had no idea what to say. Catherine was always fearless, and to hear her say she'd pass up a Friday night date – something that she had never passed up in all twenty years of her life – really disturbed her. As Caroline drifted to sleep to the soft rumbling of the newscaster's voice, she allowed herself to send a quick thought into the universe: please don't let anything happen to my sister.
DOINK-DOINK
"How's Catherine?" asked Olivia as Caroline entered the squadroom the next day.
"She's okay. She said she's ready to call me in case anything else happens. Today they're supposed to be finishing the sketches, so you can just imagine what this guy has in mind if he wasn't finished with it yesterday," said Caroline in a sickened tone.
"I'd rather not imagine it, thanks," said Elliot. "How are you feeling today?"
"Cold," said Caroline, indicating the multiple layers she wore.
The lack of body fat caused her to shiver constantly and it had become necessary to wear bulky clothing. However, despite her somewhat weakened physical state, she still remained as fiery as ever in her attitude.
"Schmidt, I heard about your sister, but the details were fuzzy. Is she all right?"
Captain Donald Cragen had just joined the conversation, his fatherly manner now in full bloom.
"She's fine," said Caroline. "She was at Art & Soul in the West Village…"
And Caroline told Cragen the whole story, then finished by showing him the drawing of Catherine. He looked sickened by the photocopy and folded it sharply in half before handing it back.
"And you? You're okay? You look a little pale today."
"So what else is new? I'm fine, Cap, really. And if I need time off," said Caroline before Cragen could say it. "I'll let you know."
"You'd better," said Cragen.
DOINK-DOINK
Fin knocked on the door of the Schmidt apartment.
"Catherine? You called me, is everything okay?" he called, listening for a response. When he received none, he tried again. "Catherine, it's Fin. You can let me in, it's okay. I'm holding my badge up to the peephole."
Fin heard the lock click and the door opened slowly. Catherine stood there in sweatpants with her face swollen from crying. He had never seen her in such a state. Usually she was the picture of her sister: resilient, fiery, sarcastic, and a little loud. Now, however, she looked like a scared little girl.
"C'mon in," she mumbled, and stepped aside for Fin to enter. "Where's John?"
"He had something in court. What happened? Can you talk to me?"
"Yeah, sure, have a seat."
Fin sat on the chair opposite Catherine, who curled up on the couch and toyed with her somewhat lank hair as she spoke.
"I told myself I wouldn't call unless something really bad happened. I thought maybe today I would do the posing, do the rounds, look at the pictures, and cut out before I talked to anyone, but while I was changing in the teacher's office, my phone rang, and I was talking with this girl Amy for a while. We're supposed to have a date on Friday, but now…I just don't know if I want to go anywhere."
"Did someone hurt you, Catherine?" asked Fin gently.
Catherine nodded. "I thought it was okay, you know? That Lewis guy came in the office after I hung up and I thought everything would be okay. He started walking up to me and I told him to back off because my sister's an SVU detective. I thought that would scare him off, but he…"
Fin stopped writing and looked up. Catherine's eyes had filled with tears again and she smeared them away fiercely. Fin didn't want to, but he knew he had to ask.
"Did he rape you?"
Catherine shook her head this time. "No, it wasn't like that. But he scared me so much. He threw his sketchbook at me and yelled at me to evaluate his work. He said it was obvious that I knew everything there was to know about art, all sarcastic-like, you know? Then when I asked where this was all coming from, he yelled at me to just ask the cops, and he pushed me really hard against the desk and stormed away."
Catherine took a pause and reached for a throw blanket. Arranging it on her lap, she continued slowly.
"I couldn't move for a minute, but then I picked up the sketchbook, and oh, my God, Fin, you can't even begin to imagine what was in there. It was sick. I've got it with me, I want you to see it so I don't have to talk about it. It's disgusting."
She reached over the arm of the sofa and picked up her backpack, then pulled out a sketchbook and handed it to Fin. Fin flipped it open and turned the pages. Image after image of women being terrorized flashed before his eyes: a nude on a bed with a knife in her stomach, a woman being held down by one man and raped by another, and three pictures that obviously were Catherine in various threatening poses. Fin snapped the book shut and jotted down some notes.
"I didn't want to call Caroline. I know she'd freak out, and she's not doing so well right now," said Catherine, and Fin heard a new kind of fear enter her voice. "I'm sure you've noticed."
"Yeah, a little bit," said Fin. "What exactly's going on?"
"It's just a matter of her not being able to keep much food down. She's getting these little dizzy spells sometimes, and she won't admit that she hurts all over. And she won't give up on her exercise. She's still running every day. I think she's losing it," said Catherine, now pulling threads from the blanket.
Fin didn't know what to say to that, so instead he resorted to a slightly more businesslike tone.
"Tell you what. Why don't you come on down to the precinct. I can take a more formal statement, and then Caroline can take you home. Sound good?"
Catherine nodded. "Okay."
DOINK-DOINK
Caroline returned from the deli with a bag full of sandwiches for her colleagues. As she handed Olivia a chicken sub and reached for Fin's order, she realized he wasn't there.
"Where's Fin?" she asked.
"He's in there, taking a statement," said Olivia, pointing at the interview room.
"Oh. Who is it this time?"
Olivia hesitated, but Elliot answered for her.
"It's Catherine. Fin just brought her in a few minutes ago," he said, taking the sandwich Caroline held out for him.
"What?" said Caroline, her eyes widening on her gaunt face. "I have to see her."
As she rushed towards the interview room, Elliot stood up and blocked her way.
"Caroline, you know as well as I do that whatever happened, Catherine needs to give her statement, and then you can see her," he said calmly. "Why don't you just sit down and eat your lunch?"
"Are you kidding me?" said Caroline, and it was clear from the tone of her voice that she would lose her temper soon.
"Come on," said Elliot, and he attempted to steer her back to her desk, being mindful of her fraility.
Caroline jerked out of his grip, ducked around him, and set off once more for the interview room. This time, Cragen served as a human wall.
"Schmidt!" he called. "My office. Now."
Caroline looked as though she wanted to throw something, but resisted the urge and instead went into Cragen's office. He closed the door behind them.
"You need to take a break," he said firmly.
"I'm fine," said Caroline.
"No, you're not, and how do you think your sister will be able to handle whatever happened today if you're in the hospital?"
"Stop it, Captain! I can do my job. Let me do it!" shouted Caroline. "That's my baby sister in there, there's no way I'm leaving her alone like this!"
"That's enough!" Cragen shouted back.
"No, it's not enough! I don't think you quite understand what it's like to want to help more than anything but not be allowed to, and thanks to you, that's what I feel twenty-four hours a day! This is in my own household now. Let me work it!"
"Caroline, if I have to, I will force –"
"You need me. You can't send me away because you won't have enough bodies!" said Caroline accusingly, and she turned her back on Cragen.
"Don't you turn your back on me, Detective. I am trying to work in your best interest."
Caroline did not respond, so Cragen kept going.
"I do not appreciate your insinuation that I'm trying to punish you in any way. You know that if I had my way, you'd be out in the field to your heart's content because I know what a great detective you are. But I will not risk you right now, do you understand?"
When Caroline didn't turn around, Cragen began to worry. He approached her slowly.
"Caroline?"
Caroline faced Cragen once more, took two steps towards him, and then stumbled. She caught the back of a chair at the same time as Cragen caught her arm. He felt how very thin she had become – her upper arm felt like clinging to a wrist – and that she was shaking all over. Enough was enough, but before he could say the word, Caroline spoke up.
"I think," she said in a labored sort of way. "I need some time off, Captain."