Chapter title: Ready or Not
Chapter summary: Casey attends her parents' funeral.
Publish date: Dec. 14, 2005
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters or the song. See the bottom for the song disclaimer.
Note: For anyone confused about the "Argentina" reference: I'm a theatre geek – Casey says "Don't cry for me, Olivia" and Olivia's reply references "Don't cry for me Argentina" from the opera, Evita. ;)
Note part 2: So sorry it's been so long since an update, I got caught up with Thanksgiving and finals.
The next morning Casey awoke with an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. She curled up into a ball and after a few minutes she thought she was going to be sick. She waited for a few minutes, hoping the feeling would pass, but instead it grew more intense. She stumbled into Olivia's bathroom, trying not to wake her, and collapsed on the ground. She hunched over the toilet until, slowly, the nausea left her. She lay down on the floor, welcoming the coolness of the tiles against her cheek. She drifted off to sleep and was roused into consciousness when she felt a hand gently shaking her awake.
"Hey, you okay?" Olivia asked.
Casey sat up and smoothed back her hair. "I'm fine. I just woke up feeling sick."
"I'm sure it's just nerves," Olivia said, rubbing her arm. "Come on, I'll make breakfast."
"If its pancakes again, don't bother."
"Hey, I'll add the oil this time."
"Honestly, Olivia, I'm not hungry."
"Casey, I don't want to badger you, but you need to eat. You didn't eat anything yesterday and you need energy for today. Please? I have eggs and bacon; I can make that instead if you don't want pancakes."
Casey sighed, knowing she had no other choice. "Whatever you want."
"Eggs and bacon it is. To be on the safe side. I know I can't mess that up."
Casey followed Olivia into the kitchen and sat at the table while Olivia made breakfast and coffee.
"Olivia," Casey began, turning her coffee mug around in her hands. "I've thought a lot about it last night, and most of yesterday and the night before, and I was thinking – I mean, I don't know if you or the guys were even planning on it – but, well –"
"Come on, out with it," Olivia said, setting a plate down.
"I don't want you guys to sit with me at the funeral. I mean, I do want you to, but I – I don't know, I just think it should just be me and whatever family that decides to come out of the woodworks. Is that weird? Or bad?"
"No, of course not. I understand, and I'm sure the guys will too."
"I guess I'm just hoping to find closure by doing it myself."
The rest of the morning was spent in silence. Casey took her time getting ready, hoping that her slow actions would somehow slow down time, and delay the funeral. But no matter how slow she moved, two o'clock came way too soon. She was in Olivia's bathroom, her black dress half unzipped, trying to tame her hair, which had decided it wanted to be frizzy. She pulled it back into a low ponytail then twisted it up in a clip as Olivia walked in.
"Hey, Elliot just called and he's almost here. You ready?"
Casey only nodded. Olivia stepped up and zipped up the rest of the dress, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles at the shoulders. She caught Casey's gaze in the mirror and saw her eyes shimmering with tears. She gave her arms an encouraging squeeze and left, allowing her a few brief moments to herself. And that was all it took. Casey exited the bathroom with the same, tired expression she had been wearing the past couple of days, and slipped into her coat. Together they made their way downstairs to where Elliot awaited them. The sky was overcast, the clouds threatening to break open.
The ride to the church was, for the most part, quiet. Elliot attempted some small talk but quickly stopped when he realized he was only receiving one word answers. He pulled up at the church and let the women get out before he went to park the car. Casey just stood on the sidewalk, staring at the doors of the church, half-expecting her parents to burst out of it, laughing at her gullibility before belittling her. She'd rather that happen than go through those doors for their funeral. She was so fixated on them she had forgotten Olivia was next to her.
"Come on," Olivia said, taking her by the elbow. "Let's go inside." She led the dazed woman up the stairs and into the sanctuary. Several people were already there, seated. Cragen, Munch, and Fin were sitting in the front row of the second section of pews, and Olivia and Casey stood in the walkway in front of them. They took off their coats and Cragen took them to the back where the coat rack was, and returned with Elliot in tow.
It was fifteen minutes until the funeral was to start. Casey swept her eyes around the sanctuary and noticed she barely knew anybody. They were her parents' friends – people she was never fortunate enough to meet – and some of them looked like old professors. Her mom's parents, banished from the family when Casey was three, were not there. Her other grandfather had died before she was born and his wife suffered from dementia. It looked like she would be sitting in the front pew alone. She didn't want to think about the funeral any more than she had to, and turned her attention back to her friends. As the seconds ticked by, her heart started to beat faster. She didn't want to cry but she felt an odd pressure rising up her stomach, chest, and throat. She knew if she made any sound she would lose it, so she kept quiet. When the organist started, she knew it was time for her to take her seat. At once, her heart began to pound her in chest. She felt like she had just woken up from a nightmare. There was that feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, and coupled with her heart and the compression in her chest, she felt almost lightheaded.
"I can't do this," Casey whispered.
Elliot put his hand on her shoulder, right at her neck. "Yes you can. We're right here, and we'll be sitting just a few rows back."
"And if you want one of us to come sit with you, just turn around and ask," Olivia added. Casey looked at each of her friends, and forced herself to calm down. Elliot squeezed her shoulder and patted her back, then gently pushed her down the aisle.
She slid into the pew, alone, and stared at the two caskets sitting in the front of the church, both adorned with a beautiful flower arrangement. As the reverend took his place in the center of the pulpit, Casey realized she didn't have any tissues with her.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to mourn the sudden passing of Jacob Andrew Novak, III and Kelly Merrick Novak but also to celebrate their lives. They were generous people, always thinking of others, even in the hardest of times. They were people to be modeled. They considered their greatest achievement was raising their daughter, Casey Elaine. Kelly and Jacob knew life was short, and that every day was a gift…"
Casey couldn't listen anymore. She couldn't stand the lies coming from the pastor's mouth. Yet she didn't want to miss a minute of the sermon. So she blinked back the tears that were pricking her eyes and listened as the pastor continued to praise her parents, of things she had no idea they had done. He then went into reading "the Lord is my Shepard" before launching into a sermon about the beauty of life. It was beautiful and perfect; she couldn't have asked for anything better. After he said the closing prayer, he announced the song. "And now a special song has been chosen to conclude today's service." He nodded at a guy in a booth in the back, and the opening chords of the song filled the church. Right away Casey knew it was the right song and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't keep the tears from springing into her eyes. She glanced back at her friends, sitting three rows behind her.
Olivia kissed her hand and offered it up to her, John flashed the "I love you" sign, Fin patted his heart, and Elliot gave her a tiny nod. Filled with her friends support, she turned back to the front as tears fell slowly, silently down her cheeks.
I can only imagine
What it will be like
When I walk
By your side
I can only imagine
What my eyes will see
When your face
Is before me
I can only imagine
Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel
Will I dance for you Jesus or in awe of you be still
Will I stand in your presence or to my knees will I fall
Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all
I can only imagine
I can only imagine
When that day comes
And I find myself
Standing in the Son
I can only imagine
When all I will do
Is forever
Forever worship You
I can only imagine
I can only imagine
I can only imagine
When all I will do
Is forever, forever worship you
When the song was over, the pallbearers came to take out the caskets. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knew she had to follow them. But she couldn't; she knew her legs would fail her. She dangerously close to losing it completely, and she didn't want to do it in front of all these strangers. It was as though any movement she made or any words she spoke would send her over the edge, and she was unwilling to do that. She wanted to experience her moments of weakness in private. So she continued to sit, staring dumbly as the caskets passed. Then the preacher gestured to her, indicating she follow. With much effort and control, she rose from the pew and took a few faltering steps into the aisle. She clutched the back of the pew, afraid she was going to get sick on the poor man sitting behind her, and squeezed her eyes shut.
Olivia knew her presence would give Casey the strength to keep going, so she crawled over Elliot and walked down to her friend. She snaked her arm around Casey's and held her hand, and together they walked up the aisle after the pallbearers. Once in the lobby area, they were directed to the reception room. Olivia started to disentangle her arm when Casey's grip on her hand became tighter.
"Please stand with me," Casey whispered. When Olivia nodded, she let go of her hand.
People started to fill the small room and most of them made a beeline for Casey. She didn't know any of them and she didn't want to hear "I'm sorry for your loss" repeatedly from strangers.
"Casey," one little old lady began, taking Casey's hands in her own. "You're parents were so proud of you. They couldn't stop talking about you whenever we were together."
Shocked, Casey asked the question before she could stop herself. "Are you sure they were talking about me?"
"You're the lawyer, correct?" At Casey's nod, she continued. "Well, then, yes, they were talking about you. They were so proud of how far you had come and where you are now. They couldn't have been happier."
"You're sure you're talking about my parents?"
"Yes, dear, of course. Didn't you know these things?" the lady asked, clearly confused.
"No, my parents and I didn't have the best communication."
"Oh. Well, you were the twinkle in their eyes." And with that, the lady moved on to check out the food trays. Casey stared after her, trying to process the information. Halfway through the line, another lady had provided Casey with more or less the same information: the Novaks were incredibly proud of their daughter. At this point, she couldn't take it anymore. She wanted to get through the burial and go home. She folded her arms in front of her, hoping to appear inapproachable. It seemed to work. Finally the preacher came to get her and she followed him to the front of the church, where the limousine was waiting.
At the burial site, the only other people besides Casey and the preacher were the detectives and three couples, presumably her parent's closest friends. She felt a tiny pang in her heart, that she didn't know anything about her parent's lives. She tried to pay attention to what the preacher was saying but she couldn't take her eyes off the two gaping holes in the ground and the weathered headstone that belonged to her brother. This was it. Her family. Every part of her, everything that made her who she turned out to be, was about to be buried underground forever. Casey couldn't bear to think of her life without them. For all the pain they caused her, she still loved them. She shoved her hands in her coat pockets, clenching her fists and digging her nails into her palms.
The other couples left as the caskets were lowered into the ground. Now, she was really struggling to keep her emotions in check. She didn't want to fall apart in front of the guys. Olivia was okay – she had already been witness to her weakest moments. But the guys – Casey didn't want them to see her differently, to shatter what little vision of competency they saw in her. She turned away and shielded her eyes with one hand and taking deep breaths. Wordlessly Olivia put her hand on Casey's back and led her back to the limo and climbed in with her.
Once the door closed, it became even more difficult. Casey wanted to wait until she was safely inside Olivia's apartment, a blanket over her head and hours to herself to cry. The twenty minute ride was not enough, and she'd have to face the guys when she got out of the limo, not to mention the ride home with Elliot. It was her pride, her dignity, her stubbornness, that was keeping her so stoic. It wasn't precisely what she wanted, but it was what she had been doing for so long it was almost like she couldn't help it. She didn't know how to deal with it any other way.
As the car started, Casey grabbed the door grip with one hand and pounded the leather seat with the other. She squeezed her eyes shut and even with all the effort a small sob still managed to escape. She felt Olivia's hand cover her own and that gave her the strength to sit up and compose herself. She kept her eyes forward the entire ride to the church. On the ride to Olivia's apartment, she sat hunched in the back and stared out the window, watching stray raindrops run down the glass. The ride was silent, but she could see Elliot and Olivia looking back at her from the corner of her eye, studying her. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself in a vain attempt to disappear. She was sick of people treating her as though she was fragile. In her state of mind, it seemed so demeaning. She was tormented with conflicting emotions and she didn't know which ones to give in to. Right now, she just wanted to disappear, to get away from it all; to not be Casey Novak anymore, or at least for a little while.
She was so lost in thought that she didn't realize they were home, and nearly fell out of the car when Elliot opened the door for her. Always the gentleman, he walked the women up to the apartment. Olivia invited him in and he agreed, promising only to stay for a few minutes.
After she changed back into her pajamas, Casey sat patiently on the couch, waiting for Elliot to leave. She realized that although her chest felt like it was going to explode, she had seemingly lost the ability to cry. She was growing increasingly frustrated with herself and everything in general. Elliot had barely sat down when she stomped into the bathroom and locked the door.
"Well, perhaps I should just head out," she heard him mutter to Olivia.
"Okay. I'll walk you out." They walked downstairs in silence. "I wish I could do something for her. I can see how much this is hurting her. I don't understand why she feels she needs to be so strong," Olivia sighed, leaning against the wall of the lobby.
"It's her way of dealing with it. Don't push her; give her some time to herself. She'll come to you when she's ready."
"I know. I wish she knew we are all there for her."
"Trust me, Liv, she knows." Elliot gave her a pat on the shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Most likely. Have a good night, Elliot." She watched him until he had driven off, and then made her way upstairs.
Meanwhile, up in the bathroom, Casey studied at her reflection, hardly believing the face staring back at her was her own. She didn't even recognize herself. There were black bags under her eyes, giving the allusion she had been in a fight. Her skin looked sunken in, her green eyes now dull and lifeless. She wanted to cry. More than anything, she wanted to collapse to the floor and mourn her parents' death. But for some reason she couldn't identify, she couldn't even force the tears. Just a few hours earlier she could barely hold them back, and now she couldn't make them come.
Suddenly, she was going through Olivia's drawers, searching for something and not knowing what it was until she came across a pair of nail scissors. She stared at the tiny scissors, her hands trembling. In an instant she was taken back to high school and she vividly remembered cutting herself and the calming effect the sight of blood had on her. Old habits die hard, and she needed the release she knew she'd feel. So she slid the scissors across her forearm and watched as the blood bubbled to the surface.
She felt nothing except a stinging pain. She rolled down her sleeve, the ¾-sleeve barely covering the cut. She dropped the scissors in the sink and ran her hands through her hair, then kicked the lower cabinets out of frustration.
"Why do I always feel so fucking ridiculous no matter what I do? God, I can't even mourn correctly!" She whispered to the broken woman staring back at her. "I look half-dead. I feel half-dead. Maybe I should fix that." She went into Olivia's kitchen, grabbed a bottle of vodka, and headed for the roof.
When Olivia got back to her apartment, the door was open. She knew for a fact she had closed it when she left. She paused at the door, listening carefully. "Casey?" she called. When she didn't receive an answer, she continued to call out to her friend. She went into the bathroom she saw the nail scissors in the sink, blood on the tips and scattered drops on the counter. A quick search of the apartment proved Casey had left. The window leading to the fire escape was still locked shut and Casey would have passed Olivia and Elliot if she had gone out the front. That left one more option: the roof. Olivia shrugged on her coat and ran up the stairs.
The song at the funeral is "I Can Only Imagine" by Mercy Me.