A/N: So... last chapter. I hope I've wrapped it up well. These are always the strangest chapters to write. Special thanks to all those who've stuck with me for this story. I know it's completely different from anything on here, and I want to thank all of you for being so open-minded and so forgiving of me. I hope I've handled such subject matter well. I'll be posting the link to my original story in my profile whenever I get it written and posted on this site's sister-site. My pen-name is the same over there - cmaddict.

Special thanks to zero-zip., who beta'd the first five chapters of this story and who listened to all the crazy ideas I bounced off her. You rock!

Enjoy, and as always, review!

Chapter 8

Elliot scanned the crowd outside the courthouse for Casey. He hadn't seen her since the paramedics whisked her away to be examined. She had insisted that she was fine, but Elliot convinced her to get checked out anyway. He wasn't necessarily worried about her physical well-being. He'd gotten an up-close-and-personal look at that when she threw herself into his arms. But he was definitely concerned how she was taking the trauma of the attack. She didn't have a first-hand view of the violence he saw day to day. She wasn't used to blood and gunfire.

"Hey, Elliot!"

He turned around to see Munch jogging up to him. "Hey, John, you seen Casey?"

"Liv took her home. She seemed pretty out of it, but physically they gave her the green light." Munch stuck his hands in his pants pockets and toed the ground.

"How'd he get the weapon in?"

"The court officers stopped a tall, blonde guy running out of the courtroom."

"Everyone was running out of the courtroom."

"But not everyone took a swing at one of the officers."

Elliot snorted.

"He's a member of a neo-Nazi party here in New York. That knife he slipped to Braun was made out of ceramic, so it didn't set off the metal detectors inside."

"I guess Braun was right, then. He did start a war."

Munch looked at his colleague for a moment. "Yeah. Well, at least we stopped this one."

"This time."

The older detective pushed his hands deeper into his pockets as his characteristic smirk spread across his face. "So, you and Casey, huh?"

Elliot looked at his colleague sharply. "Where'd you hear that?"

"From you. I heard what you said to her right before you pulled that trigger. Hell of a shot, by the way."

The younger detective let a small smile touch the corners of his mouth. "Thanks." He sighed and ran his hand through his dark crew-cut hair. "And, about me and Casey, I would've told you but –"

Munch shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I get that it's hairy when it's someone you work with." He looked back for a minute and groaned. "IAB's here to talk to you."

Elliot sighed again. "Great. Them again."

"Listen, as far as I'm concerned, it was a clean shot. You did what you had to do."

Elliot raised an eyebrow at the other man. "Think Casey'll understand that?"

"I think she will." Munch paused for a moment and stepped closer to Elliot. "I saw the way she looked at you. Hell, even the way she's looked at you for the last couple of months. You're good for each other, and she knows it."

The ride to Casey's apartment was incredibly silent. Awkwardly silent. Olivia glanced over at the ADA in the passenger's seat. She just stared out the window at the buildings flying by, lost in thought. Olivia couldn't blame her. Casey wasn't used to seeing men shot down in front of her, and she certainly wasn't used to having a knife held at her throat. Olivia could still see the darkened spots of Braun's blood on the ADA's jacket. Proof of just how close to death Casey had come.

"Hey," Olivia said quietly. The younger woman turned her head and trained her blue-green eyes onto the softly-smiling detective.

The corners of Casey's mouth turned up slightly in reply.

"You okay?"

Casey sighed. "I… I don't know."

"Casey, you just had a near death experience. When stuff like that happens, it takes a long time to get past. I'm sure Huang could give you some therapy."

"No." She shook her head, tendrils of blonde hair sweeping over her shoulder. "I mean… yeah, I can't get the sensation of that knife against my throat away. But… it's something Elliot said to me."

Olivia's coffee-colored eyes widened. "He told you? Well, it's about damn time."

The attorney furrowed her brow and stared at Olivia. "How did you know?"

"Casey, he's my partner. I've known him for eight years. And I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you – not even Kathy. I've been after him to tell you for at least a month."

Casey slowly digested Olivia's words and bit her lip thoughtfully. "Do… do you think he meant it?"

"Absolutely," Olivia answered without hesitation. "Casey, he loves you. He would do anything for you. He nearly risked his career for you when you were attacked by Zegrin."

The other woman winced at that memory.

"Do you love him too?"

She sighed and glanced at the detective. They'd stopped at a red light, and Olivia was staring at her with her intense gaze. "Yes. Very much."

Olivia smiled and nodded. "Good. Then you should talk it over with him."

Apartment of Casey Novak
Friday, May 18

Casey clutched the throw pillow from her couch tight to her chest. As hard as she tried, she couldn't get the smell of blood out of her nose. She kept feeling that knife against her throat, digging deeper and deeper into her skin. Physically she was fine. But she knew that emotionally, she'd be a wreck for weeks. It had been the same way with the Zegrin attack so long ago. She'd taken months to get over the physical and emotional trauma of that. But this... this was different.

But the thing that she'd thought the most about all day was what Elliot had whispered just before he took the shot.

She'd wanted him to say those words for so long. But did he mean them? Or was he saying that because he thought she would die? She'd meant what she said to Olivia. She was in love with Elliot, and had been for a long time.

Suddenly she heard a familiar footfall outside her door, then a key in the lock. The lock turned, and the door swung open.

An exhausted-looking Elliot stepped into the tiny apartment and quietly shut the door behind him. He turned around and smiled wearily when he saw Casey sitting on the couch, nervously chewing on her lower lip. "Hey."

Casey hugged the pillow tighter to her chest. "Hey," she replied softly.

Elliot looked at her for a moment. He wanted nothing more than to dash over to her and pull her close to his chest, feeling how alive she really was. But he restrained himself. They needed to talk, and as soon as he touched her, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop.

"What did IAB say?" she asked, breaking the stifling silence.

"I got cleared for duty," he replied, shrugging off his coat and draping it over her armchair by the TV. "But Cragen gave me a couple of days off."

She nodded, still watching him intently. "Good." She paused for a moment, her brain whirling. She wanted to just blurt out what she was thinking, but she couldn't. Not now. "Thank you, Elliot," she whispered. "You saved my life."

A hint of a smile touched his eyes. "You're welcome."

"I don't understand men like that. I've prosecuted hundreds of them, and I'll never understand them. How can people hate so blindly?"

Elliot sighed. "Men like that have to hate to live. It doesn't matter who or what. They prey on people they don't understand, blaming them for their problems instead of taking responsibility for trying to change things."

A single tear drop fell from Casey's eye, and Elliot's heart broke. "I… I can still feel that knife."

"Oh, sweetheart." He couldn't control himself any more. Elliot crossed the room in two giant strides and enveloped her trembling body in his arms. Casey wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his shoulder. He pressed a kiss into her hair, onto her cheek. "I'm so sorry he did that to you."

"I thought I was going to die, or..."

"Ssh," he shushed her, pulling her tighter into his chest. "I'd never let that happen to you, baby. Not unless I was dead."

They stayed like that for a moment, her wrapped up in his arms and sobbing against his chest.

"Did you mean it?" she whispered into his shirt, breaking the silence and startling Elliot.

"What?"

"What you said in the courtroom."

Elliot gently grasped her shoulders and pushed her away so he could look her in the eyes. "Look at me, Casey."

She slowly lifted her tear-filled eyes so that they met his.

"When he had you… that knife at your throat…" He swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I thought I was going to lose you. And I couldn't take that risk without you knowing how I felt about you. I should've told you a long time ago. I love you, Casey. I mean that with every fiber of my being."

Casey didn't say anything for a moment. She just smiled tearfully and reached up with one hand to cup his cheek.

"Now would be a good time to say something," Elliot said after a long pause.

"Say it again," she whispered, slowly closing the distance between their faces.

Elliot grinned. "I love you."

Suddenly she pressed her lips to his. He immediately opened his mouth to let her in, tasting the saltiness of her tears mingled with the sweetness of her lip gloss. Their tongues twisted and entwined, communicating their need in the most ancient of ways.

Casey pulled back when the lack of oxygen took over. She rested her forehead against his and reached for his tie. "I love you, too," she whispered as she slowly loosened his tie.

Elliot smiled and recaptured her lips with his. His hands moved to the waistband of her gray sweatpants, and she moaned against his mouth when his fingers slipped under the thin material.

"Bedroom," she groaned as he moved his lips to her neck and nipped at the sensitive skin there.

"No time," he returned, blowing his hot breath onto her neck and sending shivers up and down her spine.

"But this is my favorite couch." Casey softly trailed open-mouth kisses down his jawbone.

Elliot slipped his hands under her t-shirt and brushed small circles across her back. She grasped the sides of his head and crushed her lips to his again. "We have business to attend to," he mumbled against her mouth.

She chuckled. "Is that what you call it?"

He pulled away from her for a minute, smiling gently as his eyes absorbed her shining eyes and kiss-swollen lips. No, that wasn't what he called it. Elliot Stabler called it "making love." And he would do that to her, again and again. He leaned forward again and gently kissed her forehead. Casey bit back a groan as his lips moved to her eyes, then her cheeks, then her nose, then her lips.

Casey leaned back against the armrest and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of her. His sapphire eyes darkened in a strange combination of lust and love.

"I want you. All of you, forever. I want you to promise me that you'll be mine," he whispered, brushing his lips against her neck where the point of the knife had been.

She pursed her lips, pretending to consider it. "I think that's a promise I can keep." She smiled softly. "I love you."

A smile touched the corners of Elliot's mouth. "I love you," he said softly

Casey swallowed hard. She wanted his lips to replace the feel of the knife against her throat, wanted to feel him against her, wanted to feel alive again. "Will you make love to me, Elliot? Will you help me forget?"

Elliot smiled at her and kissed her deeply. "For the rest of my life," he murmured, his hands moving under her shirt to pull it over her head.

And as they fell into a deep sleep together in the afterglow, their bodies entwined on Casey's couch, the horror of hate slowly began to fade into just a distant nightmare.