"I enjoy being together," Alex stresses the present tense. Her stomach is a knot and there's a bit of a chill running down her spine. She glances at Casey, and she can tell that she caught the deliberate phrasing. They're lawyers, after all.
Casey licks her lips, seemingly less confident than Alex has ever seen her. "I shouldn't have walked out. I… I didn't realize what it could trigger until I got to my place. And then, well…"
Even though it's in hindsight, the fact that Casey acknowledges her health is more comforting than it should be. She doesn't want to make Casey feel guilty for setting her off in a cycle of increasingly self-deprecating thoughts; it happens, with or without any outside influence. "That … it will always be part of this. It will always be here."
"And that's okay," Casey responds patiently. "And you're more than okay. You make me happy, and, well, I'd like to think you're happy too." Her voice catches mid-sentence and she's looking somewhere in the vicinity of Alex's cheekbone but if it's one thing that Alex loves about Casey, it's that she's not afraid of conversations. She's talking in present tense again, and Alex's insides relax a bit.
"That's never been in doubt," Alex says quietly. She can't ready Casey's facial expression right now, a softer version of her courtroom face, and she wonders if she's trying to hide her train of thought. At least she's stopped fidgeting. Alex feels her shoulders drop, her back relax and then she takes a breath. "I want to try, for you."
Casey catches her gaze now and her face turns pensive. "You can do it for you, too."
"When I tell you you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, I mean it," Alex continues. She'd said it twice, once when they were sharing a lazy Sunday morning in bed, coffee and sex and catching up on a month's worth of issues of The New Yorker and The Economist, and another when Casey had taken her to Coney Island on a sunny Saturday; one was so far in her comfort zone, and the other just enough out of it. Casey usually nudged, sometimes pushed, but rarely shoved, and Alex appreciated it more than she could say.
"I know," Casey says easily. "You're not a liar. Remember, I'll be here."
Alex has heard these words before, and as much as she believes it when it comes from Casey, she has to be sure. "Even when I can only think in worst case scenarios, even then?"
Casey stops her with a hand on her knee. "Especially then. You can't shake me that easy, Alex." The pensiveness on Casey's face has melted away, and all that's there is acceptance, easily decipherable now.
It doesn't stop Alex from reaching for familiar scenarios, the most dangerous what ifs she's thought about in the dead of the night when Casey's not beside her in bed. Sometimes she wants to call Casey, even when it's half past 3 and she hasn't slept. She talks herself out of it, every time, but it doesn't stop her from wanting to do it. "And what if—"
Casey squeezes Alex's knee gently now, stopping her words from overwhelming them both. "Then you'll think that, but I'll be right here with you. For you."
Alex puts her hand on top of Casey's, and their fingers interlace on instinct. This is the first time they've touched in days, and a few more things settle in place inside Alex. The tightness in her chest is gone, and there are no more butterflies. She's about to say something, but her phone beeps.
"It's time," Casey says, letting go of Alex's hand, but not moving otherwise.
"Yeah." Alex gets up and heads to the washroom.
Once in the washroom, the familiar routine gives Alex a moment of calm. Pills, at the same time, every day. It'd been hard to stick to the schedule before witness protection, but once she got there, for a long time, it was the only thing she had to look forward to. It meant the end of the day, that she could think about going to bed without it being embarrassingly early. Nowadays, the ritual feels like it's somewhere in between, in terms of importance.
Alex shakes out two pills, then cuts one in half. One half stays in its little cutter, and she takes the other with the whole pill. On her more introspective days, it's frightening to her that a half-pill can throw everything just off kilter enough that her need to think overrides her need to sleep and every sport utility vehicle with tinted windows driving by is possibly being driven by a gang of Colombian hitmen, but she's got much more to think about now, with Casey in her living room.
Alex expects the worst when she catches her reflection in the mirror, and she's surprised when it doesn't appear like she's been hit by a truck. Her eye makeup is smudged a bit and she's looking a bit wan under the bright light, but not as bad as she thought it would be. She puts the bottle and pill cutter back into the drawer, then turns off the light.
She finds Casey in the kitchen, putting the rest of the food in the fridge and carefully folding the takeout boxes so they won't take up too much room in the trash.
"You don't have to do that," Alex says from the doorway. The fact that they're in a reverse of how this whole thing started isn't lost on her.
"It was the least I could do," Casey says, washing her hands after a successful battle with the trash can. "Do you—"
In three strides, Alex has Casey against the counter, her hands gripping the edge on either side of Casey's hips, their bodies pressed together. She leans in, foreheads touching, and they're eye to eye. Though they haven't been nearly this physically close all week, this is the most comfortable Alex has felt this whole time. She wonders if Casey's feeling what she's feeling, considering she's not making any attempt to move away from Alex.
"Are we ready for this?" Alex asks, careful to not break eye contact.
Casey keeps her eyes fixed on Alex's. "I'm ready when you are."
Alex breathes in slowly. "I might not be ready," she admits, "but I have to try."
"For you?" Casey asks.
"For us. You're right," Alex answers, voice dropping to half its normal volume, continuing before Casey can get a word in edgewise, "I need to do this for me, but by extension, that's us. There's still an us."
"There's still an us," Casey confirms, wrapping one arm around Alex's waist. Alex lets her head drop to Casey's shoulder, breathing in deeply. The warmth from Casey is almost too pure, too comforting, but Alex lets herself soak it in.
After a long moment, Alex has to know. "Why are you still here?" She can't think of a better way to phrase it, but she knows Casey's used to this.
Casey pulls back, but she keeps her arm around Alex's waist. Her other hand tilts Alex's head up so she can look at her. "Because I love you," Casey says simply, like it's the only possible answer. "All of you." Alex tries to cut in, but Casey keeps going. "Yes, all of you. You are strength, courage. Intelligence, beauty and resilience. Passion, wit. A thousand other things, before your anxiety. If I have to tell you every day, I will do so happily, because it means there's an us."
Casey's voice doesn't waver, and Alex loves her a little more for it. "Casey, I'm sorry," she says, and though it feels like apologies are trite here, she has to say it.
Casey shakes her head gently before she leans her forehead against Alex's again. It's comfortable, Alex decides, and even though she feels wrung out from their talk, she's grateful. "I love all of you," is all she says, before she leans in to kiss Alex.
They haven't kissed in almost a week, and it starts achingly slowly. Every brush of their lips is another apology, and an acceptance. Alex feels Casey's arms around her waist as her own hands slide up into Casey's hair, and then she's being turned, twisted and hoisted upwards, onto the counter. Alex clings on, legs around Casey, and when they part, seconds, minutes later, they're only a little more than a hair's breadth apart.
"You know I'll be here," Casey says, voice low, "and here I am telling you. Alex. I am here."
"Stay with me," is all Alex can say in return.
When Alex wakes up, Casey is still sleeping. They had agreed that there wasn't any pressure to have sex, but as soon as Casey had followed Alex into bed, Alex couldn't resist pulling her close and stripping away her clothes. It was what she had needed, and what Casey willingly gave. They'd spent the rest of the night with nothing between them, letting themselves feel each other like they were just learning how they fit together.
Alex nestles closer to Casey, and Casey shifts, giving Alex more room in her sleep. There's a comfort Alex hasn't felt since Casey walked out earlier in the week, and she knows, right to her bones, that this is where they're supposed to be. Casey has granted her another chance, and she can't let her slip away.
In the hazy light of the morning, sunlight peeking through the blinds, everything seems a little more dreamy. Alex could stay in the warmth of her bed and Casey for hours, but the lure of skin on skin is too much to resist. Now that Alex has the comfort of Casey back, she wants to show her at every chance just how much it means to her. She's better with her words when they're rehearsed, or when she's able to be as acerbic as she pleases, and she's long since learned she has to show her feelings in different ways.
Leaving the warmth of her spot next to Casey is a small price to pay as she slides over her body, then down, the weight of her body pushing her legs apart. Pressing slow, sloppy kisses along Casey's sternum, then lower, Alex feels Casey shift under her and start to wake up. Alex looks up, and Casey's eyes are open, watching her as Alex flicks her tongue against her navel.
"Good morning," Casey says, looking rather pleased at this wake up call. Alex slides up and gives her a good morning kiss, then heads back down, skin on skin. Her mouth lingers on one nipple, then the other, tongue flicking out until Casey gasps.
Alex feels a little lighter now, and free to take what she wants. She curls one arm around a thigh to give herself enough room, then dips her head down, tongue making long, teasing strokes.
Casey's whimpering within minutes, trying to urge Alex on with some pressure on the back of her head. Alex responds with a firmer stroke before pushing her tongue deeper, knowing exactly what makes Casey come undone. Alex cleans Casey with her tongue before she pushes herself up, Casey's moans still echoing in her ears.
"Good morning," Alex says teasingly.
Casey's slumped back against the pillows now, still breathing heavily, her arm flung over her face. "Jesus," she huffs out, voice scratchy.
"Alex will do."
"Smartass," Casey says, and she swats Alex's shoulder. This feels comfortable again, like how it was supposed to be the whole time. Alex smiles, and it doesn't fade, even when Casey drags her out of the warmth of the bed and into the shower.
After a shared shower that doesn't save any water, Casey declares that she's starving, and as Alex doesn't have much in the way of food, they're going out. Casey goes to the drawer where she keeps a couple of changes of clothes; Alex is suddenly extremely grateful she didn't go moving anything about while they weren't talking.
Casey catches her Alex staring as she's pulling on a sweater. "Can I help you?"
"I'm just happy," Alex says, and she must look surprised because Casey's smirk blooms into a genuine smile.
"At this risk of making this morning too serious," Casey begins, "I really do appreciate your saying that, because I'm happy too." She crosses the room and kisses Alex chastely, lingering. "And I know it takes a lot to make Alex Cabot say she's happy," she adds, the teasing tone taking away the sting of truth.
"You make it easy," Alex says quietly, leaning up for another kiss, even though they both know it's easier here than anywhere else.
Casey steps back to find a pair of socks. "How hungry are you?" she asks, obviously trying to keep them to plan.
"Pastry and coffee hungry."
"Sounds good to me."
It's not quite brunch time yet, so the sidewalks are a little less crowded. As they walk, Alex catches Casey's hand in her own and threads their fingers together. She can't resist turning to look at Casey, and the megawatt smile she receives makes Alex feel better than what she thinks a hundred case winning streak would feel like. It won't always be smooth sailing, she knows, but when Casey looks at her like that, Alex thinks they're a bit more prepared for whatever comes their way.
I got really stuck on Alex's admission in Manic, about her insomnia and anxiety, and that spawned this whole fic. I might write an epilogue for this, I'm not sure, so I'm leaving it incomplete for now. Calex prompts are also welcomed... this whole story has been a drug. Thanks for reading!