Thanks for the reviews everybody, and despite my incredible slowness in updating, could you keep it up? I love reviews. And a big apology to whoever compared my story to being addicted to.. crack, was it? Didn't mean to keep you jonesing. ;)

Author's Warning -This chapter may not be suitable for all audiences. I wouldn't rate it R (or M as this stupid new rating system makes me do), but it is kind of explicit and heavy. Read at own risk.

Author's Note-This chapter kinda makes the story seem like it's taking a 'series of misfortunate events' turn, but it's really not. Things'll get better after I tie up loose ends and things. And yes, OE fluff will be on its way, of course. ;)

A Fool Who Could Not See Your Slippery Game

"That is the last time you are sleeping over on a weekday," Olivia quietly hissed at Elliot as they pushed open the doors to the 16th precinct.

"Oh, come on." He stole a glance down at his wristwatch, narrowly avoiding another detective as they came to the elevators. "We're not even five minutes late." The two stepped inside the elevator, the doors abruptly closed behind them as Elliot reached out and pressed their floor number.

"Yeah." Olivia somewhat agreed, leaning her back against the hand railing that circled waist high around each wall. "But if we keep coming in late and at the same time…" She raised an eyebrow as the elevator lurched to life and began rising up. "People will start talking."

A sly grin just crossed Elliot's face as he sauntered over in front of her. Alluringly picking his hand up, he braced his palm against the wall, right next to her head. "So, let them talk," he shrugged, casually leaning forward like he was going to kiss her.

Olivia rolled her eyes and brought up her hand to press against his chest, holding him back. "Down boy," she ordered, managing to hide her smile long enough to appear serious as she heard the ping of the elevator. Elliot face fell into a dejected frown as Olivia slipped around him and exited through the open doors.

"Damnit Munch!" Fin's irate yell was so loud that Olivia heard it from outside the squad room.

"Why is it always 'Damnit Munch'?" John's annoyed voice followed, prompting a roll of her eyes and a quiet laugh from Olivia. "Why not damnit Rodriguez?" As she walked in through the doorway, John glanced up from his desk and saw her. "Or damnit Benson?"

"'Cause only your sick mind could figure out how to make this sewer water!" Fin angrily jerked the mug in his hand forward at John, the brown liquid toppling over the rim and splattering the floor in small drops.

"Ah," Olivia tossed back her head in an understanding nod as she grinned and walked towards her desk. "Munch made coffee."

"That's debatable," Fin growled, quickly tossing on a new pot of brew that was untouched by John.

Olivia laughed as she changed her path towards John's desk, a paper on it catching her eye. "Hey," she nodded towards what she now saw to be a newspaper. "Whatca reading?" Taking a final step next to his chair, Olivia bent forward and turned her head in an attempt to read the partially hidden headline.

"What? Nothing." A hint of worry appeared in his voice and his movements became clumsy as he yanked the paper away and slid it under a heap of folders. John's strange behavior painfully obvious, Olivia raised her eyebrow and glanced up at Fin. He just shot her a blank stare and shrugged, turning his attention back to his coffee.

Olivia paused as a quick plan formulated in her mind to divert John's focus. Memorizing the location of the newspaper, she shouted out. "Hey John!" She excitedly pointed to the other side of him and towards the window a few feet away. "Doesn't that black van across the street have the letters CIA on the side?"

"What? Where?" He spun his chair around so that his eyes could easily dart around as he searched through the window for the non-existent vehicle. While he was preoccupied, Olivia dove for the shrouded paper and easily recovered it. "Hey!" From the corner of his eye, John saw Olivia and quickly jumped up to his feet. "No! Don't!" He frantically shot his arms out and grabbed only the air in his attempts to snatch it from her hands.

Olivia just grinned as she whipped around, turning her back to John. She cradled the paper against her chest, just out of his reach. When she was satisfied that he couldn't swipe it from her, she tilted it forward to read the title. "Now what doesn't John want me to see?" Olivia asked rhetorically as her eyes scanned over the print.

John's frantic motions to retrieve the paper stopped when he saw Olivia's face fall and in place of her grin appeared a look of dumbfounded shock. She remained speechless, her widened eyes never leaving the text. John's voice guiltily caught in his throat and he found himself at a loss for an explanation even if he could speak.

Fin quietly observed their reactions as he walked up next to John. He opened his mouth to fill in for his partner, but ultimately found himself following suit and remaining silent. Still stunned, Olivia managed to get enough feeling back in her legs to start walking back towards the exit, no real destination in mind.

After she disappeared down a hallway, Fin recalled the front page of the newspaper and felt a wave of anger wash over him. With nothing else to take it out on, he directed it at the closest responsible thing. He lifted his hand up and smacked his open palm against the back of John's head.

"Ow!" John's neck jerked forward and his hands flew up to protect the back of his head as he shot Fin a quizzical glare.

"Great job! Moron…" He gave an irritated sigh and shook his head at John in aggravation.

--XXX--

"Cop Attacked. Are our streets safe anymore?" Olivia had read and reread the headline so many times that the black letters and white paper were starting to swirl together. The title wasn't what bewildered her though. In fact, she was slightly grateful because she'd assumed that it would point a finger at her rapist and take the attention off of her. She couldn't have been more mislead.

The writer wasn't concerned about the protecting the public from Olivia's attacker; he was concerned about protecting the public from her. She quickly realized that just because a defense lawyer couldn't bring up with she'd done to Reid, it didn't mean that some rookie reporter couldn't have a field day with it.

The story was all about her "unstableness" and "short temper" after she was raped. They questioned whether or not she could keep it together, citing the injuries she'd given to Reid while questioning him. It reasoned that if she could just "randomly attack" a suspect like that, who was to say she wouldn't do the same to some civilian on the street? If that wasn't bad enough, they'd even gotten quotes from Reid, his lawyer, and other people that basically slandered her name and demanded that she be fired.

Suddenly, all the phone calls asking for interviews and requests from news stations to plaster her attack all over the TV didn't seem so offensive and intrusive. At least those would have portrayed her as a victim… instead of a victimizer. Olivia's jaw tightened as tried to blink her frustrated tears away.

She'd ducked into an empty interrogation room to escape the reproaching stares and whispered rumors she knew would be following her once her colleagues caught sight of the paper. Sitting on top of a table in the corner of the room, Olivia let out a rueful laugh as she bent forward and ran her fingers through her hair. She couldn't help but find a perverted amusement in the irony of her entire situation. To think, she'd actually assumed that being raped was the worst thing she'd have to deal with in all this.

When a knock at the closed door rudely yanked her from her thoughts, she knew the odds were two to one that Elliot was the cause of it. On the off chance he might just leave if she didn't answer, Olivia stayed silent and her stare remained focused on the door. She wasn't a bit surprised when the doorknob slowly began to twist open. Instead of Elliot, when the door opened she found her self face to face with Cragen. His expression was the same unreadable one he always had, with a slight frown and a furrowed brow.

"D'you catch the paper?" Olivia picked the newspaper up from her lap and tossed it onto the table set up between them. It landed in the center with a soft thud, the picture of Olivia that accompanied the story staring up at Cragen. He gave the paper a cursory glance before moving his glance back at her. "I guess I shouldn't be so shocked," she commented bitterly, momentarily averting her eyes down before looking up again with her next question. "Whatever it takes to sell a story, right? Even crap like that." She gave a nonchalant wave at the paper, trying to appear as if it didn't bother her as much as it really did.

"Not everyone thinks it's such crap." The tone in his voice instantly caught Olivia's attention, a mix of foreboding, anger, and regret. She'd heard it before and knew nothing good would follow it. Stifling her apprehension, she awkwardly cleared her throat and asked the inevitable.

"Who's everyone?" In the back of her mind she already had two plausible ideas of what his answer would be, but she pleaded that both were wrong.

"The Morris Commission and IAB." A lump caught in Olivia's throat as her guesses went two for two. She forced herself to swallow it and keep her face as blank as possible. While doing so, she stayed silent and waited for Cragen to continue. "An IAB investigation into your actions while questioning Greg Reid is pending." He slipped his free hand into his pant's pocket, the other occupied with a small piece of paper. "And the Morris Commission summoned me about that." Cragen nodded towards the newspaper.

"When is it?" She referred to the meeting, wondering how long she'd have to prepare before they called on her so that they could attack her and her actions. Ever since the mandatory psyche evaluations they were all given six years ago, the SVU detectives and the Morris Commission had been on shaky ground with each other.

"It was this morning." He spoke deliberately, knowing full well that she'd be upset by the late discovery.

"Was?" Olivia swung her legs down and slid off of the table and onto her feet. She crossed her arms and studied him, aware that she'd heard him right. "Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice suddenly snarled, the accusing tone slightly catching Cragen off guard.

"You weren't summoned." He shrugged his shoulders, struggling to remain indifferent to the fierceness appearing in Olivia's eyes. Anticipating her next question, he quickly answered it. "And I was under order not to tell you about it. They didn't want you to 'interfere' with their decision."

"What decision?" She demanded in bewilderment, taking a few steps around the furniture and towards Cragen.

He locked eyes with her and gave a hesitant sigh before continuing. "About whether or not you should be able to keep your job."

"What!" Olivia's eyes widened in outraged bafflement as she felt her life being jerked around on a string, and all without her knowledge. "They're going to fire me because of… of…" she thrust her hand out, palm up, towards the newspaper, "that!"

"No." Cragen shook his head, remembering the paper in his hand with despondence. "They wanted to suspend you for a month or so, however long it takes for your story to work itself out of the press and public eye."

"A month?" Olivia suddenly lost her breath, like she'd been punched in the stomach. Her anger quickly turned to desperation as she pleaded with Cragen. "No!" She shook her head back and forth. "Captain, I can't be suspended over this! Anything else…" Her voice faded out at a loss for words.

"I managed to talk them down, but I had to make a deal. They refused to ignore it." Cragen found himself sighing again as he questioned whether or not he'd done the right thing.

"What kind of deal?" Olivia's expression seemed to brighten, finding anything better then being suspended. By the way Cragen glanced at her, he obviously didn't feel the same way.

"There's a press conference later. They want something to give the public by then, to reassure them." There was a disquieting pause before he proceeded. "Either you're suspended for God-knows-how-long… or you agree to six months of therapy sessions, provided by the state."

"Therapy?" Olivia repeated, her inescapable fury resurfacing. "You mean a shrink?"

He carefully nodded, feebly offering forward the paper in his hand. "They were worried about a conflict of interest in having the sessions with Huang, so he recommended a woman that specializes in rape cases." When Olivia didn't accept the paper and merely stared at him with upset incredulity, Cragen lowered his arm and took a deep breath. "Olivia, I'm sorry. I did everything I could to change their minds, but they believed that this was best for everyone involved."

"Involved?" The pitch in Olivia's voice rose as she mocked Cragen. "Who's involved?" Her face hardened in betrayal and anger as she slowly stepped forward. "Other than me and the bastard who raped me, who was in my bedroom that night that could possibly be affected by this?" Cragen just met her eyes in silence, able to offer no explanation. When Olivia realized he wasn't going to defend himself or his choice, she kicked her legs forward and began walking towards him. Ripping the paper from his hand, she sarcastically hissed at him. "Thanks for the huge vote of confidence in me, Cap. I appreciate it." Before either could say another word, Olivia left the interrogation room, slamming the door behind her.

As she stormed down the hallway, a mental image of Myers popped into her mind and she immediately knew her next destination. If she was going to therapy sessions for the next six months of her life, she was sure as hell going to find out why. Determination soothed some of her anger as she made her way towards the office of the only person who could possibly know how Myers found out… Casey.

--XXX--

"I can't believe this…" Casey murmured to herself as she held a copy of the newspaper in her hands. Pulling her chair up to her desk, she hurled it into the nearest trashcan. Fatigue settled over her as she put her elbows on her desk and held her forehead in her hands.

Over the past two days, she'd been relentlessly kicking herself to figure out how Joe could have possibly known about Olivia's attack. She'd searched through the entire system and found no sign or red flags that could have pointed him to it, just as she thought. There were also no calls made by Olivia's attacker in the prison phone log, making the chances of him contacting anyone who could have told Myers very minute. With no other credible answer, Casey could only confirm her worst fear. While they'd been on there date, she let something about it slip. She was responsible for all of this.

Somehow, she'd managed to avoid the entire squad ever since the trial, but she knew she couldn't keep it up forever. Eventually, they'd confront her and she'd have to confess her mistake. Mistake? She scoffed at the word. I think I'm a little past mistake. Try misjudgement, faux pas… or plain and simple idiocy…

Still mentally kicking herself, she tried to think of the best way to tell Olivia when there was a knock at her door. Not even giving it a second thought, she rubbed the bridge of her nose and yelled. "Come in!"

"Hello Case." Appalled at the sound of the familiar voice, Casey's hand dropped to her desk. There, standing in her office like the other day hadn't even happened, was Joseph Myers. He was dressed in a suit and tie with his hair slicked back, a smug, arrogant grin covering his face.

"You…" Casey growled accusingly as she jumped to her feet. Her chair almost clattered to the floor as it was shoved backwards. "What in the hell are you doing here?" She propped the palms of her hands against the top of the desk and menacingly leaned forward, spitting out her words like venom.

"Casey, Casey." He condescendingly shook his head and clucked his tongue at her. Casually holding his hands behind his back, he began strolling closer towards her desk. "How can you treat me like that after everything we've been through?" Grinning, amusement twinkled in his eyes as he winked at her.

Casey clenched her jaw together as she continued to glare at him, quickly aggravated by his antics. Her instincts commanded her to throw him out of her office without a second thought or word between them, but she resisted them. Curiosity for the truth exceeded her personal feelings. "How did you find out?" She shakily whispered, further angered that he put her in the position that made her need anything from him.

"What was that?" Myers smirked, leaning the side of his head forward. He was obviously enjoying this.

"How did you find out?" She repeated, slightly louder, but still keeping her volume under control. "About what happened to Detective Benson?"

"I suppose the fact that you haven't figured it out yet shouldn't be so surprising. After all," he mocked, "the day before a high profile case and you didn't even know who the defense attorney was. Or were you just so seduced by my looks that you'd blow the entire trial for a second chance with me?"

Casey's eyes narrowed as she bit the side of her tongue to keep from screaming and wiping the smug grin off of his face. "Actually," she forced a sarcastic smile onto her lips, "I think that morals and character are much more important in a person, both of which you indefinitely seem to lack." Myers' face quickly twisted into a glare of pure fury, fire flickering in his eyes. Casey drew back away from her desk, temporarily frightened by his sudden change in mood.

At her uneasiness, a twisted grin resurfaced on Myers' face, pulling exactly the reaction from her that he wanted. "Come on Case," he patronized her, taking a leering step forward. "You believe you're so smart, then think!" Myers jerked forward, pretending to lunge at her. When Casey remained indifferent, he just gave an icy laugh. "Leaving a guy in your office, all alone… not so smart."

As Casey thought back to the night they went out, all her unanswered questions seemed to fall into place.

Casey's hands flew over the keyboard of her computer, desperately trying to finish the last report for her case. She glanced up at her wall clock to see that there were only a few minutes until Joe was going to pick her up. A groan escaped her as she realized that she still had to deliver the papers to her boss downstairs when she was done.

The last word finally typed, she grabbed the mouse of her computer. "File…" She muttered, moving the mouse over the word and clicking. "Print… okay…" Her foot nervously tapped against the floor as she waited for the beeping printer to spit out the final paper. Just as it dropped into the tray, a knock pounded on the door. "So close…" she moaned, shaking her head.

"Hey Casey!" Joe's head popped into the room, followed by a very formal black suit and matching tie.

"Hey!" She returned the shout, though in bothered surprise more than a greeting. "What's with the suit?"

"This old thing?" He clutched the collar between his hands, innocently holding it up.

"I hate you," she laughed, rolling her eyes as she got to her feet. Shaking her head, Casey gathered the report together. Just as she was about to grab her coat to leave, a folder on the bookcase in the corner caught her eye. It was the one containing the papers that guaranteed Olivia's rapist at least fifteen years in jail, probably longer.

Momentarily turning her back to Joe, she discreetly slipped the folder underneath a few books. Satisfied that it was out of sight, Casey grabbed her report and walked towards the door. "Um…" She held the paper up, sheepishly looking to explain. "I gotta take this downstairs. Just give me one minute," she held up her index finger, "and I'll be right back."

"I'll be waiting…" His voice sweetly tapered off as he winked, curling his mouth into another grin. Casey just matched his smile and continued through the doorway.

Only off on her word by a minute or so, Casey walked back into her office to find Joe lingering around in the corner. The quiet tap of the door handle against the wall caught his attention. "Hey." His hand casually rested on top of the bookcase, drawing a glance of suspicion from her. Casey couldn't help but get the feeling that he was searching the room. "I see you're still kicking butt in softball." He motioned up towards the wooden plaque on the wall. Her name was emblazoned across the bottom in big gold letters, surrounded by signatures and a team picture.

"You know it," she chuckled, her concern quickly dissipating as they walked out of the building together.

"You were going through my files!" Casey's mouth momentarily gaped open as she glared into Myers' eyes. "That's how you knew!" She numbly began shaking her head, dumbfounded not even beginning to describe her emotions. Refusing to let her professional, protective shield down, Casey's voice came out in such a loud scream that it caught even herself off guard. "I could have you disbarred for that!" Too flabbergasted for much else, she could only spout off an empty threat.

The veins in Myers' neck appeared to be pulsating as his features transformed into disgust. "Casey…" His voice was a deep, menacing growl as he walked closer towards her desk, now only a yard away. "You're in no position to be threatening anyone."

Though Casey appeared untouched by all Myers' intimidation tactics, she felt shaken to the core. She'd played detective before and been inside a cell room with guys who'd killed in cold blood, so this wasn't the first time she had been threatened. But this was the first time she had actually believed the threat.

This wasn't the man that Casey had dated a few years ago, or even the other night. This person was cold to the point of a sociopath, a sick depravity glinting in his eyes. Casey felt a foreboding knot beginning to gather at the bottom of her stomach, shrieking at her to do whatever she had to do to get away from him. With this random anger controlling Myers, there was every possibility that things could become really dangerous… really quick.

Keeping their gazes locked, she inched her hand towards the phone of her desk, sizing up the situation to see if she'd have the opportunity to call one of the SVU detectives. Just as her fingers brushed the receiver, Myers suddenly lunged for her hands.

In one swift motion, he'd grabbed her wrists and violently flung her back against the wall. Casey's restrained arms were being crushed into the wall above her head, causing her to snap her eyes shut as she winced in pain. As she opened her mouth to scream, she instantaneously felt Myers' lips shoved onto hers. Her eyelids flew open in shock to find that he'd also pressed his body against her chest and stomach. Before she could fight him off of her, Casey felt his tongue slip past her lips and into her mouth. Allowing her instincts to take over, she clamped her teeth down into the flesh as hard as she could. The taste of blood exploded in her mouth just seconds before Myers jerked away cursing.

His attention quickly turned back to Casey when he sensed her struggling to yank her constrained arms free from his grip. A small drop of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he merely grinned. "Don't you want me?" He taunted lustfully in a throaty snarl, bringing his head back down to collide against Casey's in another kiss.

Wrenching her lips from his in by shaking her head to the side, Casey shouted at him. "Never, you sonofabitch!" Her features became rigid in fierceness as she locked her gaze of malice onto her assailant's face. "Go to hell," she hissed in an austere tone.

"You were always such the tease, Case." Myers sneered, his lips curling around his teeth. He leaned in close enough towards Casey's face that she could feel his breath against her cheek. "I strung you along for months and I never got a damn thing from you. What did you think I put up with your haughty attitude for? Just so you could dump me in the end? I screwed your detective over and I can do the same to you. I will get what I want." Everything she'd seen about him so far guaranteed her that his threats, unlike hers, carried power and truth behind them.

The fear and rage pulsating through Casey suddenly pulled back an old memory of a self-defense course she'd taken a few years ago. Her instructor's number one motto had been, "If all else fails, hit 'em where it hurts." Mustering up every ounce of strength in her aching body, she thrust her knee upwards and made a solid connection with his crotch.

A second of hope fluttered through Casey as the air gushed from Myers' stomach and his hands released her arms to jerk downwards and protect himself. Still standing motionless against the wall, a wave of panic paralyzed her. When Myers began to straighten his waist, Casey realized she was about to lose her chance to escape. Ducking past her desk, her mouth opened in a screech as a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. Her screams were cut off when the arms swung her back around. Casey's neck snapped back with the motion, causing her skull to hit the wall with such a force and sickening thud that her head bounced back before finally falling on the wall.

Had Myers' hands not been pinning Casey to the wall, she would have collapsed to the ground the moment she tried to open her eyes. Her head was throbbing, there was a steady ringing that pounded her inner eardrums, and even with her eyes open, she couldn't see a thing through her dizzy, blurred vision. She stood on shaky legs as she blinked repeatedly, trying to clear her sight. When she tried to focus on anything in front of her, the room just started spinning.

Before Casey could do anything, Myers pressed his body up against hers again and meet her lips in a fierce kiss. He slid her hands up against the wall and held them over her head as he rammed his tongue in her mouth again. Learning from his past mistakes, he didn't try to separate her clenched teeth and instead slid his tongue over them, back and forth.

Casey continued to struggle against his grasp of her as she tried to scream for help. Her efforts merely came out as incoherent, muffled noises that vibrated her lips against Myers'. He responded by abruptly pulling away, using the opportunity to take the risk of gathering both her wrists in only one hand so that his other was free to lower itself to her blouse. He wrapped his fingers around the material near the top bottom and yanked it as hard as he could, causing two buttons to pop off and reveal a small portion of the black bra she had on underneath.

Casey's mind raced with all the advice and lessons she'd been given and taught while working in SVU, frantically hunting for any little thing that may be able to get her out of this situation. Something Olivia had said to her seemed to jump out over everything else. She had explained that most women have a better time of escaping their attacker if they respond with anger and confidence over fear and panic. Choking back tears, she sputtered a few inarticulate words before getting her voice back. "You'll never get away with this!" She squirmed around as Myers began kissing her neck. Eventually he found himself a favorable spot and starting nipping at her skin, increasing in pressure until she murmured in pain. "Once I tell the SVU detectives about this they'll throw your ass in jail before you even leave this building!"

Myers glanced up, meeting her eyes with a smug expression. "You mean your little friend Detective Benson? After finding out you were directly responsible for the press knowing she was raped, do you really think she'll believe a word that comes out of your mouth? Or that she'll really care what happens to you? Please," he scoffed, "this is all your fault, you bitch! Who will the public believe? An angry lawyer who's just seeking revenge because she lost her friend and let a case slip… or me?" Not waiting for an answer, he continued to kiss her.

As Casey felt Myers' body pressing against her, violating her, she couldn't repress the thought that he was right or the burning tears that began to freely flow down her cheeks. No one would believe her. Besides, she was too weak to fight him off and the throbbing in her head had become unbearable, with a magnitude three times as bad as the worst migraine she'd ever experienced. Just as she closed her eyes and submitted to him, no longer fighting or struggling, the face of Emma MacGuire appeared in her mind.

One by one, each of the victims she'd ever seen in her years at SVU flashed before her eyes. The face of every person that had been scarred and traumatized for life, and yet still had the courage to come forward and face their attacker. She saw everyone whose life would never again be the same… and she knew she couldn't give up. As long as she had any energy left in her, she had to fight, had to get away. She refused to become just another victim. Summoning all her strength, she relentlessly tugged her arms downward and tried to break his hold. As she tried to scream again, Casey heard the sound of her office door opening and a familiar voice follow it.

"Casey!" Olivia burst into the ADA's office to find Casey against the back wall with Joseph Myers on top of her, the two embraced in a heavy kiss. She was just about to apologize and duck back out when she noticed that it didn't appear so consensual. He had her arms pinned above her head and seemed to be fighting, sending a pleading glance to her. Before she even reacted, the inevitable crossed her mind. Oh my God, he's going to rape her. Fury bubbled up and broke through her composure as she found her voice. "Hey!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, sprinting to the middle of the office.

At the intrusion, Myers whipped around to face the detective. "You!" He matched her fury, if not tripled it, and glared at her. "There's no way you're going to ruin this for me!" He darted around Casey's desk and barreled towards Olivia. Just before he completely ran past her, he shoved his hand out and struck her in the face. The intensity was almost enough to knock her to the ground, but she kept her balance and quickly recovered as she carefully shook her head. As Olivia saw him begin to turn around, her eyes darted around and quickly landed on the metal desk lamp barely a foot away. Without hesitation, she clutched it in both hands and swung it over her shoulder, wincing at the metallic twang it made connecting with his skull. Her shoulders heaving up and down with each breath, Olivia glanced down to see that Myers was lying unconscious in a heap on the floor. The rise and fall of his chest assured her that he was fine, just out cold.

"Casey..?" Olivia meekly glanced up, her hands still shaking. Casey just stared down at Myers' unmoving figure with fear in her eyes. After he'd released her to lunge for Olivia, she'd gripped onto the back of her chair for balance. When what had almost happened hit her in a sudden wave, she felt her legs threaten to crumple right underneath her. Perceiving her weakened state, Olivia dashed behind the desk just in time to wrap an arm over her shoulder and prop her up. "Casey? Are you all right?" She reached her other arm around the front of Casey in an awkward hug, not that either of them was paying much attention. Tears just fell down her face as she slowly shook her head, wincing as she did so. Feeling like she was a few seconds away from drifting off to sleep, she faced Olivia and started to lean forward.

Olivia decided to just comfort her and moved one of her hands to cradle the back of Casey's head when she felt something warm on her fingers. Squinting her eyes in confusion, she moved her hand so that she had a clear view of it. "Casey…" She gasped, identifying the dark red liquid and gazing up at her in dismay. "You're bleeding." Casey just looked from Olivia, down to her hand, then back again, her face unchanging.

A shuffling noise in the doorway caused both women to jump as they turned to the source of the sound. Elliot was standing by Myers' head, a stunned expression on his face as his eyes gradually took in the scene before him. They finally settled on Olivia and Casey as he spoke. "What the hell happened?"