Chapter title: Avoidance
Chapter summary: The day before the funeral, Casey tries to escape her feelings and understand conflicting emotions.
Publish date: Nov. 17, 2005
Disclaimer: I still don't own anyone. Damn it.

Rosebud1234svu – Thank you for the info, but I do know that Olivia was abused. I just haven't brought it up yet.

Everyone else – sorry, I didn't intend for the song to be such a surprise/mystery/whatever you want to call it. And no, it wasn't Alex's song – I didn't even think of that until someone mentioned it. But good idea!

For most of Saturday, Casey slept. At least when she was asleep, she could escape reality. But no matter how long she slept, she'd wake up with that tight feeling in her heart and a strong urge to cry. She refused to cry. Crying accomplished nothing and it only left her feeling stupid and childish. But it was getting harder and harder not to. So she'd hide from her pain and go back to sleep. She wanted to avoid all types of conversation so she turned off her cell phone and whenever Olivia came into the room she'd pretend to be asleep, if she wasn't already. She just wanted to curl into herself and fall asleep forever. If she didn't have to face the world ever again, that would be perfectly fine by her.

Olivia had been called in to work around noon and got home around 6. Casey didn't leave the couch the entire day with the exception to use the bathroom. She even tried to avoid doing that. Any movement beyond rolling over or stretching seemed too difficult, too much of a strain.

Olivia hung up her coat then sat down on the couch by Casey's waist and stroked her hair. "Casey, sweetie, wake up."

Casey kept her eyes closed and didn't move, hoping Olivia would leave her alone. No such luck. So she opened her eyes and stared straight ahead.

"I was going to make something to eat. I thought you might want to join me and talk."

Talk about what? Casey thought. My parents died, they hated me, what else is there to talk about? She just shook her head and tried to roll over, but it was difficult with Olivia sitting next to her.

Olivia studied her for a minute before setting the newspaper on the coffee table. "The obituary was in the paper today. I'll be in the kitchen." She didn't want to push Casey, but she was getting worried. She wanted to give her friend some space, but she was afraid that by doing so, Casey was slipping into depression.

The smell of food made Casey realize how hungry she was and she dragged herself off the couch and into the kitchen. She was afraid if she said anything she'd lose it, and she had to stay strong. Olivia wouldn't understand – hell, even she didn't understand why she was building a wall around herself. Part of her didn't want to admit how much her parents meant to her. Another part didn't want Olivia to see how vulnerable she was. Perhaps it was because that holding everything back was the only source of comfort she had as she was growing up. Her whole life she had gotten into the habit of pushing away her feelings, assuring herself she'd deal with them later and yet never did. As long as she kept it in, nobody would know how much she was hurting on the inside. She had become an expert at hiding her emotions. This time her talents were failing her and she wasn't sure how much longer she could remain stoic. So instead of falling apart in the middle of Olivia's kitchen, Casey turned around and got on the couch, faced the back, and forced herself to fall asleep so she could escape again to the safety of slumber.

Thirty minutes later Olivia had dinner ready: her own "version" of fettuccini alfredo and garlic bread. She carried the plates into the living room and sat on the arm of the couch. Casey was awake but she tried to ignore Olivia's presence. She wasn't in the mood to talk, or eat for that matter. She just wanted to sleep. But Olivia wouldn't go away. She sighed and rolled onto her back. "What."

"You need to eat. When was the last time you ate?"

"Last night. And I'm not hungry."

"I heard your stomach growling earlier."

Frustrated, Casey sat up, grabbed a plate, and started to eat. "Fine. You want me to eat? I'll eat."

Olivia slid onto the couch in the spot vacated by Casey's head. "There are other ways to deal with this."

"Like what? Nothing I do is going to change anything."

"Casey, I know you're hurting. I'm not trying to diminish or take away from that. I just wish you'd let yourself feel those things."

"Why? So you can play protector?"

"Of course not –"

"I'm not one of your victims, Olivia," she continued, walking over Olivia's comment.

"I didn't say you were. I'm here for you, you know that. But it hurts me to see how much pain you're in. I know that hiding it isn't always the best strategy."

"Ha, like you have any idea of what I'm going through," Casey said bitterly.

The retort cut through Olivia like a knife. She tried not to let the shock register on her face. Casey didn't notice, thank goodness. She was too wrapped up in her own tragedy right now; she didn't need Olivia's past problems to deal with too. She sighed and decided to give her more space. If Casey needed her, she'd know where to find her. She took her plate into the kitchen and ate alone.

Casey sat cross-legged, alone on the couch, all too aware of the absence of her friend, and knowing that something she had said caused the hasty retreat to the kitchen. She lost her appetite as quickly as she had gained it. She pushed the plate far away from her and swaddled herself in a blanket. A solitary tear fell from each eye and she hated herself for it; it meant her parents were still winning. She steeled herself against it but it was as though there was a chink in her armor. She tried to wrap herself tighter, trying to feel the sense of comfort that a baby feels when wrapped securely in a blanket. It wasn't working. She felt herself slipping deeper into self-pity and depression and a few more tears slipped down her cheeks. She tried in vain to stop them but it was as though her tear ducts had minds of their own. Her throat and chest ached from holding everything in and she knew she was close to reaching her breaking point. It wasn't going to be tonight. Her body started to tremble and she rocked herself back and forth, trying to stay quiet. She didn't want to bother Olivia anymore than she had already.

Olivia was heading back to her room to shower the grime of the day off when she noticed the all too familiar rocking movement. She made her way to the couch and tentatively sat down next to Casey.

Casey didn't even notice Olivia's presence until a hand rested on her shoulder. She shied away, forgetting how tightly she was wrapped in the blankets and proceeded to fall to her side on the couch. Olivia suppressed a smile, knowing it was completely inappropriate, and pulled Casey back up into a sitting position and rested her hand once more on the ADA's back. Once more, Casey shook it off.

"Please, don't, Olivia."

"Why not? Who do you have to be strong for?"

Casey just shrugged.

"Let me in," Olivia said, hesitantly placing her hand on Casey's back. "Let me in, Casey, and I'll help you get through this."

Instead of answering, she hung her head, trying to control her tears, tears of frustration rather than sorrow. She hated that she was pushing Olivia away when all she wanted to do was be a good friend and help. She didn't know why she was doing that. Everything seemed so mixed up in her head. She felt so confused, yet a part of her just wanted to figure it out on her own, like she had been doing her whole life. Olivia silently rubbed her back and stroked her hair with one hand and rested the other on her forearm. Finally, she looked up, her eyes glistening with tears. When she glanced at Olivia, she noticed the detective was crying as well. Casey narrowed her eyes with concern.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because what you're going through. And what you've been through."

"Don't cry for me, Olivia. I'm not worth it."

"Yes, you are." Olivia let that hang for a few seconds before continuing. "And I think the correct word is Argentina."

Casey stared at her blankly before it registered and a small smile crept across her face. "That was bad, detective. Really bad."

"It made you smile."

"Yeah."

"Do you want me to heat that up for you?" Olivia asked, indicating Casey's barely touched dinner. "Do you need anything?"

"No. Thank you, though. I'm fine."

"All right. I'm going to bed. If you need anything, come get me. Otherwise, I'll see you in the morning." Olivia squeezed Casey's hand before taking the plate to the kitchen and heading to her bedroom.

When she heard the bedroom door close, Casey heaved a huge sigh. She had successfully not fallen apart. She had controlled herself. It felt good to cry a little, yet nothing had changed. True, it didn't feel good to hold it in, either. The ache in her chest hadn't gone away – it was growing stronger.

I'm a strong person. I can beat this. I refuse to cave. She kept telling herself this, but she wasn't so sure she'd believe in herself quite as much the next day. Twenty-eight years of suppressed emotion was a lot to conquer.