CHAPTER FIVE

Alex Cabot called early and arranged to be at Jack's at eight-thirty. Marc Meadows was locked up, she said. He'd resisted arrest and Elliot used appropriate force to restrain him. "Expect a complaint," she said.

"Adam will handle it. Listen." He looked over his shoulder at a sleeping Claire. "She's extremely fragile right now, be careful how you question her."

"I know, Jack. I deal with these victims every day. And she's my friend."

Jack woke Claire at eight-fifteen and told her Alex was on her way. Her eyes widened and she looked down at her body. "I need to shower," she said, and got up. Jack made a fresh pot of coffee while Claire showered again, and had a cup waiting for her when she emerged from his bedroom, dressed in jeans and one of his shirts. Alex knocked on the door at exactly eight-thirty. Jack let her in and offered coffee, blocking her first look at Claire.

"Yes, thank you, black," she said, and stepped around him. She stopped when she saw Claire. "My God," she whispered, "oh sweetie." She dropped her briefcase and moved to the couch, gently hugging Claire. "Shouldn't you still be in the hospital?"

Claire touched her bruised face, then her throat. "Nothing's broken," she mumbled.

Jack put a cup of coffee in Alex's hand, forcing her to release Claire. "Nothing physical," he added.

Alex took the hint from Claire's rigid body and moved away, to the far end of the couch. Jack inserted himself between them. Claire took his hand, staring at the door with that thousand yard stare. Alex watched her for a moment, then cleared her throat. "Claire, we have Meadows in custody. I'm charging him with attempted murder." She saw Claire's hand move unconsciously to her bandaged throat. "I have to ask you about it. Are you up for that?"

Her hand went limp in Jack's. "I guess. There isn't much to tell." Her tone was flat.

Alex looked at Jack, alarmed. He shrugged a shoulder, told you, as he rubbed Claire's thumb with his. Alex cleared her throat again. "I know you gave Olivia a statement last night." She got up for her briefcase, opened it and grabbed a legal pad and pen. "Did you hear him come in?"

Claire looked at her. "I was in the bathroom. Do you think I would have come out if I'd heard him?"

Alex nodded. "So he was waiting when you came out of the bathroom?"

"Yes."

"And what happened?"

"He covered my mouth with his nasty hand and almost snapped my neck. He said if I made a sound, he'd cut my throat. Then he dragged me into my bedroom." Her voice went flatter and softer with each sentence, as she drifted farther away from reality with each recalled image. "He raped me. Then he cut my throat and went out the window. Jack came home and found me."

"Alex," Jack said. He lifted Claire into his lap and cradled her.

"Jack." Alex was gentle. "What did you find?"

He looked at Alex, resting his cheek on Claire's head. "A horror show. She was lying on the bed, her clothes cut off, bleeding. I called 911. This is enough for now. I'm not pushing her any further."

"Have you called your department shrink?"

God, he thought, was Alex that insensitive, did she think Claire couldn't hear them? "I will if she wants to talk to her. Otherwise, I'm not letting anyone near her." He stroked Claire's back, felt her slowly relax under his reassuring, familiar touch.

Claire heard them, but she was unaffected by their words. Jack's hand, on her back, was all that grounded her. If he stopped, she thought she'd implode. The pain in her heart was overwhelming, grief on a scale she'd never experienced. She gripped the fabric of his shirt as he talked to Alexandra Cabot, holding on for dear life. He stopped talking and looked down at her. He couldn't see her face, but he saw, felt, her hand squeezing a fistful of his shirt. He tilted her head up and looked into her empty eyes.

"I won't leave you," he whispered. "Baby, I know it hurts, I don't know how but I know it does. You have to tell me how to help you." He began a gentle rocking motion, holding her close, pressing her face against his chest, and she soon soaked it. He looked at Alex, desperate and afraid. "Do you know what to do?" he asked.

Tears formed in Alex's eyes for her shattered friend. "No," she said, matching Jack's whisper. "I think you should call your shrink, Jack."

He kissed Claire's head before answering Alex. "Not unless she wants me to, she doesn't really like Liz all that much." He felt Claire's body tremble and he stood, holding her, carrying her into his bedroom. He put her gently on the bed and stretched out beside her. Alex followed. She hated feeling so impotent.

Claire stared at the window, so numb, so empty. She longed for oblivion, not sleep with its nightmares. She felt Jack's arm around her, knew Alex stood at the foot of the bed, but she didn't know how to communicate with them. Jack would interpret her body, he always did, and Alex could go to hell for all Claire cared right now. She wanted to be alone, in the semi-darkness of his bedroom, hidden from the world. She trembled, and turned her face into the pillow.

For her part, Alex knew rape victims were traumatized to one degree or another, but she'd never seen one so close to the edge. She'd always known Claire was vulnerable, that something hurt her terribly in the past, but she was also strong and bright. Seeing Claire Kincaid as helpless was uncomfortable. She wouldn't know Claire knew she was there if she hadn't turned her face into the pillow.

.

"Claire, what you're feeling is normal, all sexual assault victims grieve to some extent. They also feel dirty, scared, and do not want to be touched." Alex tried to reach her friend. "Counseling helps a lot."

"I'm tired of repeating what happened," Claire mumbled.

"I know, but you really need to talk to somebody."

Claire didn't want to deal with it, and so she rolled over, pressing her face into Jack's shoulder.

Alex looked at Jack. "It's a rough road. She might benefit from some sleep, maybe Rodgers will sedate her, and counseling if she wants to talk to someone professionally." She looked at her watch. "I'm sorry, but I need to get back." She hesitated, hoping Claire would say something. "Call me if you need anything. Claire, I'm so damned sorry, I wish there was something I could do." She left as quietly as she'd arrived.

Once the door closed, something broke inside Claire. She sobbed, hard, choking, shaking sobs that came from her core. She held onto Jack, and felt his hands on her back. She had no idea how long she cried, but the tears were drying when the phone rang. Jack rolled on his back to grab it. "McCoy," he snapped.

"Jack, it's Liz Rodgers. Alex Cabot called me, she thinks Claire needs sedation. It's almost time for my lunch break, I can run over with something to put her under."

Jack looked at Claire. "That would be good," he said.

"See you in a few." Liz hung up.

"Claire? Liz Rodgers is coming over, she's going to give you something to help you sleep."

"Good," Claire said, wanting oblivion so much. "Jack, I'm sorry I'm such a mess."

"Shh." He gently kissed her bruised cheek. "You're holding on, that's all that counts. We'll get through this."

But, she thought, what will happen when you realize the woman in your bed was had by a rapist? What kinds of things will you think about? Will you still want me? If you stop loving me, I think I'll die. She said none of it, she just held him, let his strong arms make her feel almost safe.

And then another rapping at the door. Jack got up. Claire clutched the pillow, waiting. Liz Rodgers came in, a medical bag dangling from her hand. She sat on the edge of the bed and put a light hand on Claire's shoulder. "I stopped by the hospital, I'm going to shoot your ass full of knock out juice. Turn on your side, please."

Claire obediently rolled over, and Liz pulled her sweatpants down. There was the sting of an alcohol wipe, then the prick of a needle, quickly followed by another alcohol wipe. By the time Liz had her pants back up, Claire was drifting away. "Thanks," she said, as her eyes closed.

Rodgers got up and looked at Jack. "Christ, how long has she been like this?"

"Since it happened. What did you give her?"

"Demerol. It kills pain and it knocks you on your ass. She'll sleep for hours." She watched Jack cover Claire with a blanket, then followed him into the living room. "I also signed out a dozen Percocet and a dozen sleeping pills. Do not mix the two. The Percocet will make her drowsy, kill pain, make her a little high. The sleeping pills will send her into oblivion. Use them judiciously." She put a brown bag in his hand.

"I will. Thank you."

"It's got to be horrible." Liz glanced at the bedroom.

"I should have been here."

"Don't, please. You have to be strong and confident, for her. What's going to happen to the bastard?"

"Adam told Alex to plead him out – charge him with attempted murder of an ADA and bargain from there. I don't want her testify, go through that."

"Then I hope Alex brokers the right deal." She patted Jack's shoulder. "Call me if you need me. If she completely breaks down, take her to Mercy."

"I will." He opened the door and saw Liz out. When he'd locked them in, he stopped by the bathroom before returning to Claire. He slipped under the blanket with her and wrapped her in his arms. She was totally limp, unconscious, and he was glad. He hoped there was peace in the darkness.