Chapter 7

Two in the god damn morning.

Why am I awake this late? I wonder as I lay down on Olivia's couch, wearing the now familiar scarf-sling and mutilated sweats. Well, I don't know.

This is just like last night. On the weekend, I had thought I would just go to bed two hours earlier, because I had to wake up two hours sooner in the morning. But I hadn't. I had just gone to bed at two in the morning, as usual, and gotten up at six. And tonight, the same has happened. I took my shower at midnight, then continued working until it was two in the morning.

But as soon as my head hits the pillow, I stop thinking. Fours of sleep has left me exhausted, and I go right to sleep, to another four hours of blissful nothingness.

"Melinda." The poor victim looks up at me with with wide, hopeful eyes- it's like she's begging me not to put her through it. Clasping my shaking hands behind my back, I force myself to continue, even though it about breaks my hear to do so. "Can you please tell the court how the defendant got into your apartment?"

She nods slowly, and when her gaze flicks over to Saks, I move to stand in front of him. A small feeling of panic begins when I realize my back is to a rapist, but I have to keep myself calm. Fin and Munch are here, as well as the court officers, and about a dozen other people. I'm safe here.

"I'm an accountant, and he was one of my clients. Every meeting we tried to set up during work hours fell through because of his schedule, and so, eventually, we met at a Starbucks after work. Afterwards, it was rather late, so he walked me home."

Her face fell, then, and it took everything I had to keep questioning her. "And then what happened?"

Melinda shrugged uncertainly, looking down at her knees, her gaze slightly confused. "I… I don't know. I said thanks for walking me home, but he insisted on walking me up towards my apartment, even though we were already at my building. I thought it was a little strange, but he had been kind enough to walk me home, so I didn't want to be rude and tell him to just go away.

"When we got up to my apartment, I said thank you again, then I unlocked my door." She stopped, then, biting her lip and glancing up at me worriedly.

I nod as encouragingly as I can, trying to get her to keep talking. All I really want to do is apologize to her, for making her go through this, and just shout at the judge, the jury, the defense attorney- why is all of this necessary? He raped five women, and we have to put up this sham of a trial?

Melinda, ignorant of my dark, private thoughts, continues her testimony. "He forced me inside and pushed me to the floor. I would have screamed, but he w-was sitting on my stomach; I could hardly breathe. He said that he wanted to have some fun. I tried to fight him off, but it was made him more angry."

Melinda talks about her rape in a terrifyingly humiliating display for the entire courtroom to hear, and by it's end, there's a scream trapped in my throat, begging to be released, from the rush of memories that I've been living in throughout nearly her entire testimony. I had tried to fight Danny off, but he just told me that I would never be strong enough to get him off of me. I hadn't been able to scream, but I know I should've. Maybe if I had, this wouldn't of happened.

"Thank you." My voice is calm and steady, a feat of which I am quite proud of, and I walk slowly back to my seat. I lean on my injured leg, using the pain to distract me, and say, "No further questions."

Back at my seat, I watch as Trevor walks towards Melinda. "So, my client, someone you barely even know, just forced himself into your home and made you have sex with him?"

His wording makes me flinch. Honestly, what was the point of that? His questions are always designed to draw out the most emotions and pain in a rape victim as possible- and I can't think of any other reason than for him to practically browbeat the victims then to hurt him. I really can't understand him.

Melinda nods, and a small smile flashes across my face when I see a steely glint in her eye. She's getting mad at him, not herself, for once. That's good.

"Yes, that's what happened."

"I'm sorry, I just have trouble seeing that happening. For one, you hardly had any bruises- but what you described was rather violent."

Melinda shrugged, keeping her defiant glare focused on Trevor. "I don't bruise easily."

"Convenient. So, you had no injuries or bruises to show for this so-called 'violent assault', and you admit not to screaming- if this was, indeed, rape, how would my client know you didn't want it?"

"He knew! I was fighting him as hard as I could-"

"Well, he doesn't have any bruises, either."

Did Danny know that I didn't want it? Is that why he didn't stop? Maybe…

Stop it, Casey! Focus on the trial!

Melinda hesitates before explaining, "I… I wasn't very successful in fighting him off, in case you couldn't tell. I didn't actually hit him."

That's right. I never actually hit Danny, no matter how hard I tried; he was too strong to even give me a chance.

My mind keeps drifting, and it hurts, now- unimaginably so. But I have to focus on the trial. And so, I hide my hands under the table and begin to drag my fingernails up my wrist, moving as slowly as possible, trying to scratch deep enough to draw blood. I kept scratching myself as Trevor's harsh questions continued.

"Melinda, can you give me any reason to make me believe that this was rape?"

Oh, the bastard is so close to an objection. "It was!" Melinda cried. "My word, isn't that good enough for you?"

Trevor shook his head, beginning to pace around the courtroom. "Can you at least give the court any evidence to show that my client knew you didn't want it, if that was, in fact, the case?"

I've got him. "Objection!" I cry, immediately standing and glaring at him. "Your Honor, it's the People's job to present an argument, not any witness's."

"I agree. Mr. Langan, change your line of questioning."

He nods easily and walks back to his chair. "No further questions."

Melinda's shaking slightly, and I think she's about to burst into tears. I could go on and do some damage control; it really wouldn't be to hard… but I can't bear to keep her up there any longer. Still scratching my wrist as painfully as I can, I stand and say, "The People have no further questions, either."

"You can step down now, Ms. Ross," Judge Donnelly said softly, and Melinda nods before getting hurriedly to her feet and heading straight for the doors. I fight my own tears with all my strength and continue scratching myself frantically under the table. Please, don't make me call another witness now.

Liz pauses, then says, "Ms. Novak, approach."

This is even worse. Forcing myself to keep my hand still, I stand and walk towards her, wondering what it could be about. She didn't notice anything odd, did she?

"Casey, what the hell are you doing out there?" Liz looks angry and she's glaring at me; her whisper was quiet enough to prevent anyone else from hearing it but still betrayed her unhappiness with me just fine.

"What are you talking about?"

"You could have objected at least three times before that, or done some damage control, at the very least- and we haven't even been in court for more than ten minutes! Do I need to contact the DA? Because, I will."

I must have looked worse out there than I thought; Liz never would have done something like this otherwise. But doesn't she understand? I'm not going to make her stay up there for any longer than necessary. I'll just eliminate the damage using a different witness. "I know what I'm doing, Your Honor."

Liz hesitates, then shakes her head and waves me away. Perhaps she trusts me. Well, whatever it is, at least she's leaving me alone.

We go through two more of the rape victims before Liz adjourns court for the day. Both descriptions of rape made me hurt even worse, and I'm scratching my wrist even harder now. It doesn't hurt enough. I try to run for the door, but am quickly stopped by Fin and Munch.

"Casey, what were you doing out there?" John asked as I headed for the door. "I'm not a lawyer, but even I was able to notice some flaws in your 'strategy'."

I pretend to be uninterested, but inside, I'm furious. "Flaws, huh? Like what?"

"Well, like with your first witness. You know that witnesses who get angry on the stand don't look good in front of a jury. And you didn't even keep her up there and try to make the jury see her differently, you-"

"What, her shouting that she was raped and that she's not lying didn't convince you? Because it sure did me!"

Fin and Munch are both looking at me like I'm crazy. "Casey," Fin says after a moment, "we know she was raped, we're not questioning that. But your job is to convince the jury that, and-"

"Don't tell me what my job is, Fin. You go do yours; excuse me while I go do mine." I storm away from him, hurriedly making for an empty courtroom as fast as possible. I'm falling apart and I can't do that in public.

When I'm finally alone, I sink slowly down to sit on the ground, hardly able to breathe. What's wrong with them? Why couldn't they see she was telling the truth and keeping her up there would only do more harm?

I raise my wrist to my eyes, hoping to see it covered in blood- but it's not. I scratched myself, yes, but not deep enough to draw blood. There are several bright red lines on my arm from my fingernails, but that's it.

"Damn it!" I snap, scratching myself again, trying in vain to make myself bleed. It hurts too much and suddenly, I'm caught in a desperate attempt to hurt myself, to make some of that pain just go away.

It's not working. It doesn't hurt enough. With no other means to hurt myself but desperately needing to, I curl my right hand into a fist and punch myself in the stomach.

It's not enough. I hit myself again, then twice more, but it's still not helping- not enough. I hit myself in the face, and it hurts, but not enough. "How could you be so stupid, Casey?" I snarl out loud. "You let this happen! It's your fault!" Standing, I purposely stretch my dislocated shoulder and lean on my injured leg before hitting myself in the stomach again. "You deserve this. You deserve all of it!"

Finally having worn myself, I lean back against the wall, breathing hard. In the awful silence, I give a broken sob before wiping a tear off my cheek. I feel better now, I think. Still crying slightly, I regain my composure and straighten my jacket before turning to leave the courtroom, hoping to maintain as much dignity as possible. I have work to do and I'm not going to let myself shirk out of it, or take it easy the rest of the day. I'll make myself suffer through it until two in the morning, as always, and I'll ensure I get a conviction for this bastard. Who cares what Munch and Fin think? They don't know what I'm doing. I'm not going to let him get away with it.

It's past midnight, and I'm taking a shower in Olivia's apartment- what has become my new normal.

I had briefly considered trying to go into my apartment again, but finally decided that I shouldn't do that tonight. I have court tomorrow and I need to be on my best for the rape victims. I can try going into my apartment again when I don't have work the next day.

Well, I've got about two hours more of work to do- prep for court, mostly. I don't know how I managed to get it done thoroughly before, when I went to sleep at about eleven or twelve. I really use those extra two hours I'm awake now.

I've just shut the water off when the lights go out.

I freeze, standing there for several moments before it hits me- a power outage. "Son of a bitch," I mutter, feeling my way around as I stumble out of the shower. I find what I think- or hope- is a towel and dry myself off with it, moving my feet around to find what should be my clothes. I find cloth and try to get dressed for a few moments in absolute darkness before giving up.

Grumbling under my breath, with the towel still wrapped around me, I head out towards the living room and run my hands over the couch, hoping to find my cell phone. It takes a minute or two, but finally, amid the stacks of papers, I find it. Sighing in relief, I flip it open and use it as a flashlight and stumble back towards the bathroom, where I get dressed in near darkness, taking advantage of the faint light provided by my phone. By habit, now, I'm able to tie up my scarf sling without hardly having to look, but it does hurt more than usual, probably because of my actions early today.

Sighing, I limp back to the couch, cell phone in hand, to try and work for two more hours. After only a few minutes of squinting to read the small print, hunched over and taking at least five seconds to read a single word, I have to admit, I'm not getting anywhere with this. I would just go to sleep, but then, I wouldn't be fully prepared for court tomorrow.

Unless…

I set my phone's alarm to go off at four in the morning instead of six. Yes, I'm not a morning person, but anything for the victims, right?

Lying down on the couch, I sigh, thinking about how I'll be awake in just four hours. It seems miraculously short. Shrugging, I try to close my eyes, but… I can't.

It's too dark in here. What if he's here, and I just can't see him?

In a panic, I sit bolt upright and grab my phone, shining the weak light all around the apartment. I don't see anybody or anything to show for my fears. Narrowing my eyes, I give the room a once over once again, but I'm still too scared to close my eyes.

What am I going to do? I'm too frightened to sleep, but sitting here in the dark is only scaring me more. If only I could somehow preserve the safety I feel when the room is still alight by my phone.

Finally, I get the idea to make sure I can see everything and know that there's no one there before closing my eyes. I do just that, waking up my phone's display and glancing around to make sure I'm safe before lying down on my side and closing my eyes. The last thing I see is the light of my cell phone illuminating the room.

I, Casey Novak, am not afraid of the dark. Despite what just happened, I know that for certain. I was just… uncertain. That's all. Would I be able to sleep right now if my phone wasn't less than a foot away, still alighting the room in a weak silver glow? No, but that doesn't mean anything. I'm a grown woman. I'm too old to be afraid of the dark.

End of Part One