Part Two

Change of POV for Part Two. No longer first person.

Can I write a realistic drunk scene? No, no I can not. Can I write a realistic… or even slightly good… smut scene? No, no I can not- thus, the reason for the rather lame, minor time skip in this chapter. My apologies.

Chapter 8

The rest of the week passes without incident. Today is Friday; Olivia'll be back tomorrow, so Casey has been staying at her friend's apartment the entire time. She had hit herself on several occasions, mostly after she had tried to enter her own apartment again. She had made progress, getting farther and farther each time, but she has never conquered all the barriers and simply stood there; Casey had ended up jumping back every time.

She is still unable to sleep without having her cell phone on, illuminating the room, right next to her. She's not afraid of the dark, not in the least, just… a little uncertain. She still only gets four hours of sleep a night, working hard until two in the morning before settling in for four short, dreamless hours of sleep. She is actually wide awake during the majority of the day, only slipping into sleep when she has nothing to do and allows the exhaustion to overtake her. The other detectives are all worried about her, she can tell. Elliot's pulled her aside twice now and asked if everything's okay- and, all right, maybe she would say something to him, but right now? He's dealing with his injured daughter right now. He doesn't need her troubling him with anything.

Casey sighed unhappily. Truthfully, she can't wait for Olivia to get home. She knows that her arrival means that she'll have to move out and finally go home- she's finally gotten her act together and called that cleaning crew, so it's not a bloody disaster anymore. Still, she likes it at Olivia's apartment. She feels safe there.

However, when Olivia gets home, her friend will be here- and she can't wait to talk to the detective again. I know, it makes her sound like a teenager, but she doesn't care. She has this feeling that Olivia'll be able to make her feel so much better. Casey doesn't know why- perhaps, it's just that she's seen her talking to women so much more hurt and broken than the ADA, and she does help them. They rarely leave her presence in tears, shaking and sobbing like their heart was just torn out of their chest, ripped into a thousand pieces, and stomped on. And those women? She's nothing compared to them. She's fine.

Casey has one last night left in Olivia's apartment. Determined to take advantage of the safety and comfort of Olivia's home, she decides to go to her own apartment for one last try at standing where she was raped and not ending up running for her life. If she fails, she'll leave, depressed and probably crying, her body bruised and beaten from the wounds she herself has inflicted, and recover at Olivia's. If she does it tomorrow night, however, she'll end up wondering around outside, with nowhere else to go, probably crying her eyes out and searching for a place to stay until morning.

And that's how Casey ended up standing at the entrance to her apartment, glaring at her old, newly cleaned home in frustration. She's going to do this. She's not a big baby; she is strong enough to enter her own home and not break down.

The first step burns, as usual. And on the second step, the burning grows even worse and spreads along her feet and ankles. A few more, and it's like the floor is actually a bed of hot coals, and she's knee-deep in them. She's trembling violently and taking even one more step is going to hurt- but one more is all it will take.

Casey actually cries out, because this is painful. It is truly an impossible battle to take the final step, but she does it anyways.

And then there she is. Standing in the middle of her own living room, like she's accomplished some amazing, impossible thing.

But she hasn't. She didn't accomplish anything! This? What is this, in the scope of things? It's nothing! "God, Casey, you're so pathetic," she growls. "You think this is something? It's not!"

Frustrated and furious with herself, Casey hits herself in the stomach in what has become her custom, but it doesn't hurt nearly enough. Oddly patient, she feels along her chest, trying to find the most painful place to hit. And then, there it is- if she moves her hand so her knuckles are in the grooves of her ribs and then strike, it really, really hurts. She smiles, now, a real one, and start laughing in between the short cries of pain she gives every time her fist strikes her body.

It took her a whole week to accomplish nothing. Good job, Casey. Real fucking fantastic.

Why didn't she think of this sooner?

Alcohol is a wonderful invention. Why was she upset earlier? She doesn't know. Was she even upset? Same answer. Casey giggles and tosses back the rest of her drink before ordering another. How many is this? Six, seven?

"You know, lady, maybe you should think of slowing down," the bartender tells her, even as he hands her another drink.

"Want my money? Then be quiet." She giggles again before indulging in more alcohol. It's funny- when the night was young, Casey had thought it tasted cheap and awful, but now, it tastes wonderful.

A guy slides into the bar next to her and smiles. "Hey."

Still laughing quietly, I nod at him. "Hey." He does look good, Casey won't deny that. But she's not looking to hook up.

"I'm Daniel."

"That's nice." Suddenly, Daniel blurs and now, she's seeing two of him, and now he looks twice as good. But she's still not looking for a date.

Or is she?

In her experience, men looking for women in bars were looking for a one night stand, not a date. And, truth to be told, that sounded just perfect to Casey.

Sex would be the ultimate proof that she was truly past her rape. If Casey was able to seduce this man and get him to take her home and have sex with him without incident, then that was it- all the evidence she needed to fully believe that she really was fine. If she could manage to do that, it would help convince her that she wasn't as worthless as Danny told her with a cruel laugh in her ear.

"You looking for a one night stand?" Casey asked bluntly. Her own voice is almost unrecognizable and, in her inebriated state, the hopeful expression that flashed across his face before he shook his head was almost funny.

"What? No. Just-"

"I am. No strings attached, that sort of thing." With another sip of her drink, Casey winks at him, trying to make herself appear as the voluptuous woman who picks up men in bars all the time. She flips her red hair over her shoulder flirtatiously and gives an airy laugh. She's drunk enough that even if this man turns her down, she won't care- there's more than one man interested in this bar. Because a one night stand is literally exactly what she needs now. She doesn't care who; any living thing will do, at this point. The need to show that she really is over the attack is suddenly overpowering.

"Look, maybe I should just-"

"Go find someone more sober?" Casey reaches out and grabs him by his shirt collar, pulling him a little closer. "Let me let you in on a little secret," she whispers in his ear. "I'm not so drunk that you should feel guilty of taking advantage. You can have all the fun you want!" She giggles again as her vision blurs and she starts sliding off her seat from her precarious position, only stopped by Daniel's arm around my waist.

He looks surprised, and a little doubtful. "You're not joking?"

By this time, Casey is getting fed up with flirting and wants to hurry this up. "No, but if you keep this up, you'll be sleeping alone."

He shrugs. "I guess today is my lucky day. Come on, I'll take you to my place, um… I never caught your name."

"Casey."

Daniel leads her to his car and she wonders, for a split second, if he's sober enough to drive. She certainly is not. The thought sets her off laughing again, and she doesn't even know why. All Casey can hope for is that he'll be just what she needs- one night consisting of the irrefutable proof that she is completely over what happened… that it didn't even affect her in the first place.

The next morning…

Casey's head is killing her.

Ow. What did she do last night? Whatever it was, it clearly involved herself and several gallons of alcohol. With a groan, Casey rolls over onto her side, regretting the movement almost instantly as her head begins pounding even harder. Slowly, she opens her eyes.

Jerking upright, Casey throws herself back from the man in bed next to her. Oh my god. What's going on?

Terrified, Casey searches around the room, looking for any sign that will tell her where she is. She doesn't recognize the room, but can see her jacket lying on the floor near the door. Jumping out of bed, Casey scrambles forward and grabs her clothes, hurriedly and haphazardly getting dressed, all the while trying not to wake whoever that man is.

She's halfway through getting dressed when she begins to remember. She had picked him up in a bar last night. She was so drunk she could probably get a rape charge to stick if she wanted to, but she remembers convincing him to take her home- and she remembers why.

She wanted him to have sex with her. She needed it to prove that she was fine.

Well, she got what she wanted. Did she get what she needed?

Yes… she thinks. But suddenly, she's covered in such a heavy cloud of shame that Casey can hardly breathe. She shouldn't have done this. She should have found a different way to prove that she was fine.

She feels awful now. Hanging her head, Casey hurried towards the door and is almost out of the bedroom when a voice stops her.

"Casey?"

Sighing heavily, Casey turns around to look at Daniel. He's sitting up in bed and looking at her though bleary eyes, and just seeing him makes her feel ten times more guilty and ashamed. "Yes?"

"You're leaving?" Daniel watches as she buttons up her jacket and leans against the doorframe, and Casey desperately wants to just melt into the ground and disappear. She can't stand this much longer.

"Well, yeah. That's what a one night stand is."

"Well, I just thought-"

"Look, sorry I was still here when you woke up. I'll be out of your hair just as soon as I call a cab and go home." So saying, Casey turns and hurries towards the door. He calls once more for her to stop, but when she ignores him, he lets her be.

She's not the kind of person that has one night stands. While she's not a 'square', by any means, she's still not one to go out and have sex with any random man she picks up from a bar. She doesn't take the phrase 'make love' lightly, and if anybody found out about what she did last night, she would probably die from shame.

It isn't until she sits down in the cab that Casey remembers the scars on her leg. She was actually supposed to have the stitches removed today. Oh, god, Daniel must have seen them. She doesn't remember if he commented on them or not, but she was so drunk, he could have said anything and she probably wouldn't remember.

There's no way Daniel didn't see them. What must he be thinking right now? Some probably crazy woman picks him up in a bar, obviously and even verbally asking for a one night stand, with recently carved initials in the back of her leg? Casey shudders at what he must be thinking of her right now.

Trying to force herself to calm down, Casey tries to be realistic. She will never see that man again. He doesn't even know her name, and even if he did, what does she care? As long as he never mentions those scars to anybody, what does it matter? While they had done last night may have been horrible, no one had to find out.

Nevertheless, now, Casey now wants Olivia here with here even more. She feels like the worst person in the world and, while she can't tell the detective the full story, Casey still feels that if only she could talk to her, Olivia would be able to make her feel better.

But she can't, and all her other friends are male. It's not like they would understand. Olivia does get into town tonight, though…

Suddenly, her mind is overtaken by images of her and her best friend, with Olivia telling her that it's all right, that she's not an awful person, that she's okay… but that's all just a wishful, hopeful dream. That would mean she would have to tell her what happened, and she will never do any such thing. She's over her attack, last night did prove that much, and there is no reason to bring it up now.

With a miserable sigh, Casey pays the cab driver and heads up to Olivia's apartment. She needs to clean it up and make it look like she was never there. She was actually going to do it last night, but then I went to my apartment and got rather… sidetracked.

When she reaches out to open the door, her shoulder twinges with pain. It's been healing slowly over the week and now, the sling she made is finally unnecessary. The cuts do still hurt a little, but overall, she is feeling much better.

While she can't remember much, she can remember how her shoulder was dislocated. It had hurt. It had hurt a lot...

Danny pulls me back by my hair so I'm on my knees, him crouching behind me, sitting on my legs and keeping me from fighting back. He grabs my arm and pulls it behind my back, jacking it up and suddenly, it's like my shoulder is on fire. I cry out, and it's like nothing I have ever felt before.

Back in the present, Casey is suddenly assaulted by the utter fear and pain from that night once again, and she whimpers, doubling over and trying to curb her terror. It's like she is actually back in the moment while she was being raped, and she is so frightened she can hardly breathe. "Oh, god," she gasps, closing her eyes and beginning to shake from the harsh, cruel fear that simply won't dissipate.

Now in a frantic hurry to get inside, where she's safe, Casey dashes out of the elevator and runs for Olivia's apartment. Her shaking hands fumble with the key and she's about to pass out; she has almost gotten the door unlocked when it opens to reveal Olivia.

She blinks, surprise flitting across her expression when she sees her standing there, waiting for her. "Casey?" she asks in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

The shock of seeing Olivia now only makes her panic work. Somewhere deep within her, where she's not about to pass from lack of air because she can hardly breathe, Casey realizes that she was inside- along with a hell of a lot of evidence that someone else has been living there this past week.

With that, Casey loses any last semblance of calm that she had. Something tells her that she should just run, and now, but she doesn't have the strength to. She tries to swallow a sob but fails miserably, managing to turn it into a strangled cry. "I'm s-sorry, I shouldn't be here," she stammers, turning and moving as fast as she can down the hallway, but Olivia grabs her and pulls her back.

"Casey, what's going on?"

Her warm voice is saturated with confusion and so much concern that Casey actually hurts from the shame. I don't deserve her sympathy. "Everything's f-fine," she gasps, and Olivia rests her hand on the ADA's back. It's an attempt to be comforting, she supposes, but physical touch only frightens her more. Casey flinches back, struggling desperately to keep herself under control.

"Case, what happened?" Her brown eyes are watching her every move and, while her hand is already forming a fist and Casey's certain that if she hits herself, she would be under control in a minute, she can't. Not with Olivia in here.

Desperate to get her friend out of the room, Casey shakes her head again and wheezes, "W-water. Water!"

Resting a hand on her arm, Olivia stands and says, "I'll get it; stay right here. I'll be back in a second."

The moment Olivia's gone, Casey slams her fist into her abdomen as hard as she can before punching her ribs twice, then her face once. When the sink starts up, she continues her violent assault for as long as she can before the sink shuts off and she hears footsteps. Stilling her hand, Casey leans back again the couch and allows her breathing to slow as a cloud of calm covers her. She's about to cry, but not about to breakdown, like she was just a few seconds earlier.

Olivia walks over to her, oblivious, holding a glass of water and watching the ADA uncertainly. "Here you go," she says slowly, clearly confused by Casey's rapid change in demeanor.

The water doesn't really help, but she swallows it eagerly anyway and forces herself to smile. "Thank you."

Olivia sits next to her as Casey tips the glass back and drinks some, needing something to do with her hands and keep her occupied. "It's nothing."

While her friend observes her, Casey looks around the apartment, searching for any signs of her brief stay here. All she had really left here was a few files in her briefcase, all of which are piled neatly on the floor, just out of Olivia's sight. She can only pray that Olivia hasn't noticed her yet.

"Casey… what's going on?"

"When did you get back into town?"

Olivia narrows her eyes, but answers anyway. "Just a few minutes ago. I was eager to get back to my apartment and didn't want to spend half the day stuck in traffic, so I left a little early. Casey, what is going on?"

Damn it, Casey, think! "Um, I was… just a little upset."

"Yeah, I know. What happened?" Clearly sensing that she is a little uncomfortable with her friend this close to her, Olivia leans back against the couch and rests her head in her hand, watching as she shifts around and tries to find something to say that the detective will accept.

Casey reaches up and caresses her sore shoulder to pass the time. It started hurting a lot more during that flashback- she doesn't know whether to attribute it to 'muscle memory' or… at this point, she doesn't even understand much of anything even more.

Suddenly, inspiration for a distraction strikes her. And, to kill two birds with one stones- her question is actually one she want an answer to. "Olivia… I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Well, you know self-defense, right?"

Olivia looks unbelievably confused, but she nods anyway. "Of course I do… Casey, what does this have to do with-"

"So, if someone had your arm behind your back and was jerking it up… how would you get out of a hold like that?" Olivia frowns, and Casey shifts uncomfortably, forcing herself to hold her gaze steady. Olivia suspects something, that much is clear, but… she can't help it. She needs an answer to this.

"Kick them in the shin."

"Well, what if you were on the ground and your attacker was on your legs? What if you couldn't kick him?" She's desperate now. She has to know how to stop it if it ever happens again. It doesn't matter that she's practically spelling out what happened for Olivia. She needs an answer.

Olivia looks very suspicious now. "Case, unless you have actual training, then you really wouldn't have a way out of that. Then again, there'd be no reason for anyone to use that kind of a move against you unless you were a good enough fighter to make it necessary. Casey, what does this have to do with why you were so upset a few minutes ago?"

With a heavy sigh, Casey finishes the rest of the water and sets the glass on Olivia's table. She knows the detective wants an answer, but it is rather disheartening to know that there was nothing she could have done. It takes a lot of effort for her to nod weakly and invent a truly awful excuse. "Um… not much, actually. Something of a distraction, I guess."

"Casey… did someone try to hurt you like that and-"

"What? Oh, no! God no! Of course not!" Casey sits upright and smiles brightly at her friend, searching her mind for something, anything to tell her. Nothing you say can make this worse, Casey! "I… that was just a… a question one of my witnesses asked me. That was how they were assaulted, and they wanted to know what to do to avoid it, if it ever happened again. That's not why… I mean, I wasn't that upset when I came here. I don't-"

"Casey, you could hardly breathe. Don't tell me that." When Casey remains silent and reverts her gaze to her knees, Olivia moves a little closer to her and asks softly, her voice quiet and comforting, "Did something happen on your date last night?" At her utterly confused look, the detective says, "El told me," but that does nothing to clear it up for the ADA.

Date? What is she talking about? Does she somehow know about Daniel?

She's about to panic again before Casey remembers that, last night, the squad had invited her for drinks. She'd had that debacle at her apartment to work on and, thus, had declined. Elliot had asked her why, and she had lied and told him that she had a date.

She's about to laugh it off and tell Olivia no, it had nothing to do with a date- but, then again, a date could be the perfect excuse. "Yeah. Yeah, something happened on my date."

Olivia waits for her to continue, but honestly, she's at a loss for what to say. A date seems like the most trivial thing in the world right now. Anything she says, at this point, will make her sound like an idiot. What, she nearly had a panic attack because she didn't get asked out for a second date? Oh, please.

So she decides to go for melodramatic. "He… he never showed. I know, I know, I'm twenty-nine and I'm practically crying over my blind date not showing up, but, it's just… I had a really awful day at work- well, awful week, actually- and was really looking forward to just… forgetting about work for a while, you know?"

Olivia nods. "Yeah, actually, I do."

Casey does feel bad for deceiving her like this, but it's not like she has a choice here. "I don't know why I'm this upset. I just… my date, coupled with everything that happened at work… I don't know."

It's a half-baked excuse, if that, and Olivia is a brilliant detective. Casey can tell by the look on her face that she knows none of the ADA's story adds up. She can only hope that her friend won't press, because she's not about to tell her why she was really upset.

Why would she, after all? Why bring up the rape now? She's fine, she's over it, and no one will ever know about it. Mentioning what happened now would only cause unnecessary trouble.

When Olivia speaks again, it's clear she's choosing her words carefully and watching Casey's reaction to every one of them. "I'm sorry. Your blind date sounds like a jackass."

She gives a hollow chuckle and shrugs weakly in response. Finally being with her best friend again is apparently just what she needed to truly believe that she is actually past what happened. She doesn't know how Olivia does it, but she's already managed to cheer her up. "Thanks."

"You know… I have a date Monday night. And he's got a single friend who I can vouch for; I've been friends with him for years. If you want, I can set you two up and we can go out together."

A date? Oh, no. No, she's not ready for that. The very thought reminds Casey of her earlier panic and terror and she shakes her head almost immediately. She can't do this.

Casey's already opening her mouth to tell Olivia no, she can't do it… but then, she'll have to tell her why. And, faced with the option of either agreeing to go on one date or telling her Olivia she was raped, there is only one viable option.

Nevertheless, her voice is shaky when she replies, "Oh, really? That's great! Thanks, Olivia!" Partly to turn the conversation away from herself, because she can't stop thinking about how she just agreed to go on a date with somebody she doesn't even know and will probably end up in the same place she did after her last relationship with Danny ended, she asks quickly, "So, who's your date? And who's your date's friend?"

Olivia chuckles. "Well, don't tell Elliot. My partner really doesn't like him too much- but remember when I was undercover for the feds, and my handler was Dean Porter? Well, that's him. And his friend is Brian Cassidy. He was a detective on the squad a few years before you became our ADA. He transferred out, and actually works with Dean at the FBI now."

FBI? That means he's certainly had self-defense training. He could completely incapacitate a simple ADA in a matter of seconds… this is even worse than Danny.

She doesn't want to do this. More than anything, Casey is terrified that she'll end up exactly like she did before, but there's no way out of it. All she's able to do is give a frightened nod, already trembling from the ramifications of the horrifying mistake she just made.