Final chapter. A sequel is coming for this somewhere along the road, but, first, I have to end my other ongoing CO series. Thanks to everybody who reviewed or favorited this story (even though you didn't take the time to review... even once...)

Chapter 10

Three months later

Four hours of sleep, with a bat and a light. Then work, sometimes for up to twelve hours. Grueling hours of struggling to be in the same room as rapists, of forcing young woman to explain their attacks in horrifying detail while she fights not to break down. Probably hitting herself a few times after court for good measure, trying to make herself conform and just be normal again. By the time she gets home, she's yearning for a drink, and usually indulges in one or two before going to bed for four short, yet dreamless, hours.

That's her life now.

It's Friday night, and, for the first time in three months, she is not a bar, getting so drunk that she forgets how to feel, how to hurt. For once, she's at home, shaking and fighting the tears that are about to fall.

She wants to tell someone that she was raped.

Not just someone. Olivia.

There are a thousand and one negative consequences that could arise from that, but Casey doesn't care. Not anymore.

Why?

Several hours previously…

"Casey… Casey!"

The sound of Elliot's voice broke the ADA's light slumber. With a low groan, she forced her eyes open and pushed herself upright, shaking her head blearily. "I'm sorry…" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "I'm sorry… what's going on?"

"You were asleep at work… at eight on a Friday night. When I tried to wake you up, you started threatening to kill me," he said lightly. "You know, when you try to kill people who wake you up, you really should start getting more sleep at night, Casey."

Elliot's joking with her, that much is obvious. But this isn't funny.

She doesn't remember threatening him. She doesn't remember threatening anybody.

Did she have a nightmare?

Present

She. Had. A. Nightmare.

Now it all made sense. She hadn't had a single one since she was raped, and now, she knew why. She was so exhausted, only getting four hours of sleep a night, but hadn't realized how much it had affected her body; her mind. Her body had been so exhausted she hadn't remembered any dreams- or nightmares- that she had.

And now, here she was, sitting on her couch and about to burst into tears for one, simple, saddening reason.

She hadn't dealt with her rape at all. She'd allowed herself to fall into a trap and been in denial for three months, relying on alcohol and work to consume her life so she wouldn't have room for anything else. Perhaps, it had been partly out of the vain hope that if she threw herself into her work, then she would be able to just ignore her rape and continue living- but, of course, it didn't work. Why would it? She hadn't dealt with anything at all.

That one night stand? What did that prove? Nothing. What, she can have sex with a man as long as she's so drunk that getting shot wouldn't faze her? "Great accomplishment there, Casey," she muttered under her breath before giving a broken sob, falling onto her side and wrapping her arms around herself tightly, giving up the battle and allowing tears to stream down her cheeks unrelentingly.

And now, when she had nothing left to lose, Casey couldn't lie to herself anymore. She had to deal with it, but she had honestly no idea how- and she wanted help with it.

She needed to speak up and tell somebody what happened. Tell somebody and ask for help.

Olivia.

Olivia was her best friend. She worked with rape victims all the time and would know what to say, what to do, to help her. Somehow, Casey just got this picture in her mind of her telling Olivia what happened and her friend being able to wave a magic wand and make her feel better.

She knows that there is no quick fix for this; she's not a complete idiot. But if only Olivia could take this unimaginable pain off of her, just for a short while…

And, of course, there were the downsides.

Casey didn't want to tell this to Olivia and burden her with her troubles. With Olivia's job and her past, surely, the detective has enough to deal with. Why add more emotional strain to the situation?

And detectives are mandated to report crimes. Even if she wants help dealing with it, that doesn't mean she wants everyone to know about it. That she'd even be able to go through a trial. She doesn't want to report this. And after three months? Her chances at a conviction would be zero to none. She didn't want to put Olivia in that kind of a position by asking her not to report it.

But, even with all the legitimate, valid concerns she has… that doesn't matter. Casey still needs to tell somebody what happened, and Olivia is her only choice.

But now? Now, while she's crying so hard she can barely speak, let alone stand? No… she can put this off until tomorrow.

Almost instantly, though, Casey realizes where this is going. If she put this off until tomorrow, then it would keep getting put off, and she would eventually never say anything- because, even though she wants to break her vow of silence on what happened to her, the thought of telling her friend is absolutely terrifying. The very idea has her trembling with fright.

And so, even while she's crying her eyes out and just wants to stay on this couch and sob into a pillow, Casey curls her shaking hand into a fist and punches herself in her ribs. It takes a few blows for her to finally calm her cries down into something controllable. Then, still with tears slipping down her cheeks, hardly able to stop the sobs still begging to be released, and stumbles toward the door, leaving everything behind. It's cold tonight, but she doesn't care enough to even grab her coat. Maybe the cold will comfort her. At this point, she's so desperate for anything to make her feel better, she'll try anything.

People give her a wide berth on the street. She must look crazy; stumbling down the street, her cheeks wet with tears, her breath coming in short gasps, not even wearing a coat in the middle of the snow. Who cares what she looks like, at this point? Her only goal is to get to Olivia and admit everything.

Twenty minutes later, she's standing in front of Olivia's apartment, knocking on the door with a shaking fist. By now, she's lost the battle against tears. As soon as she got inside, Casey had given up and allowed them to cascade down in cheeks in unrelenting waterfalls of sorrow and shame. She has to do this now, while the urge to tell someone is so undeniable. "Please answer, Olivia," she begs. "Please."

Just when she's about to give up and allow the sobs to burst free, the door opens.

And there stands Olivia, and, at the present moment, she's like an angel sent from heaven to heal her and stop her from hurting. Shock flits across her brown eyes when she sees Casey standing there, tears staining her cheeks, and she's still crying, and she gasps, "Casey?"

"Olivia… I need to tell you something."