Inspired by "Night," season 6, episode 20.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Law & Order: SVU, its characters, or storylines. I make no money from this work of fiction, that is inspired by an episode, but otherwise created from my own mind. Any relation or resemblance to another story or a real life instance is purely coincidence.

Recovery

Chapter 1

kateandharvey

The first thing she heard was the beeping. The first thing she felt was the pain. She tried her best to move her body, but everything felt like she'd been hit with a baseball bat. She let out a light groan, and the air moving between her lips pushed them open. She felt the sting as they pulled from each other. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

Her eyelids were heavy, and they felt swollen as she lifted them. "Hey," she heard a woman's voice, along with the faint click of heels on tile, before the blurry face of who she thought was Olivia Benson came into view. Waking from her sleep just slightly, she started to shift, intending to move. The brunette detective held out her hand, "No, no… don't move, sweetie. Don't move. Just stay there."

Swallowing, the injured woman shifted to sit up anyway, and spoke out in almost a whisper, "Olivia?" A warm hand grasped hers.

"Yeah, Casey," the brunette smiled softly, and the redhead saw the flash of her teeth as the image came more into view. Olivia squeezed the redhead's hand, "it's me."

The younger woman frowned. "What happened?" She couldn't see the stitches on her forehead, the bandages around her waist, or the split in her lip. She saw the flash of concern in Olivia's eyes as her brow slightly furrowed.

"You were attacked." Brown eyes searched green, pupils darting from left to right. "Do you remember?"

The ADA nodded, licking her lips and speaking, "Anderson." Looking over at the older woman, Casey continued, "He followed me home." The memories flooded the injured woman's mind all at once, and her grip on the hand of her companion tightened.

Five years ago, Kyle Anderson was convicted of rape. Olivia and Elliot had found him standing over the body of a 6-year-old girl, Elaine Browne, in Queens. His DNA was found on the body, and there was evidence of assault with the rape kit. Regardless of the lack of DNA found in the vaginal cavity, it was a rather straight-forward case. That was, until, a serial rapist was recently convicted of the crime and Kyle was released. When he was spoken to by the detectives, he seemed to be understanding. Frustrated, but understanding. No one expected him to go after anyone for revenge, nonetheless Casey Novak. Little did they know, it would only take him a week to find the home address of the ADA that helped convict him all those years ago.

The ADA in question continued revisiting her memories out loud. "I was working late on the Peeples case. It was around eleven when I left my office." Casey shook her head, angry at herself. "I was going to go straight home, I swear, but I was starving. I stopped at Mulligan's for a drink and a bar burger."

"This isn't your fault, Casey." Olivia was adamant. "We certainly don't need to do this right now."

Unshed tears flooded the redhead's eyes as they met those of the detective. "It's all my fault. He approached me in the bar. I didn't think anything of it." She shook her head yet again as the tears spilled over.

Casey Novak was deep into her burger when the bartender came back around. "Are you good, Miss? Can I get you another?" He gestured to her empty glass, but the responsible ADA shook her head.

"No thanks," she dabbed her mouth with her napkin as she finished chewing, "I'm good. Just the check, please." The young man behind the bar nodded and walked away to fetch the bill. Casey continued to work on her food and was thinking of the hot shower she would take when she got home when she felt a warm presence slide next to her.

"I'd ask if you wanted some company, but I wouldn't want you to convict me of harassment." The deep voice came from her right, and the redhead turned to look at the man next to her.

Upon seeing his face, she sighed. "Hello, Mr. Anderson."

He gestured to her burger. "It's awfully late. I see you're eating. That because you don't sleep at night?"

Forever strong headed, Casey threw her napkin into the basket. "I'm sorry for what happened to you, Kyle, but I didn't convict you. A jury did."

"And you helped them!" He cried, "You made them think I was a pedophile." Casey raised a single eyebrow, but said nothing as the bartender set her check on the table. At the sight of the bartender, Kyle Anderson lowered his volume. "It's your fault I lost five years of my life."

Casey placed the appropriate money on the bar, and retorted, "A jury convicted you. Not me." She swallowed. "I'm not going to tell you I don't feel guilty, because I do, and I'm sorry. I wasn't alone in it, and you weren't exactly cooperative."

Anderson leaned closer to her ear. "You have no idea what it's like. I had a wife, children, a family! You've got nothing. Nothing at home but yourself. Nothing to lose. You care more about your precious conviction rate than the lives you affect."

The ADA picked up her bag, and stepped down off of her stool. She bit out, "I am sorry for what you've suffered, Mr. Anderson, but harassing me at a bar in the middle of the night is not going to bring your years back. I suggest you use your time, and your restitution, to reconnect with your family."

Her hair flipped off of her shoulder as she strode out of the bar.

"I should've called you," Casey continued to cry. "I should've called you, but I didn't think he was a threat. I was shaken, but I wasn't worried."

"You were right, Casey." Olivia's tone was strong, "It wasn't your fault. Hell, Elliot and I collared him. We thought it was an open and shut case."

"He was right, though. I made that jury believe he was guilty."

"We all thought he was at the time, and we had every reason to believe so." Olivia squeezed the younger woman's hand, "You can't blame yourself for this. Not for the conviction, and definitely not for the assault." The ADA was quiet for a moment, and the detective used the silence to change the subject. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit." Casey laughed bitterly. "What's the damage? Do you know?"

Olivia was hesitant to tell her. "The doctor should be in soon. I'll let him tell you."

Frustrated, Casey released the brunette's hand, pulling away. "Just tell me, Olivia."

Knowing she was fighting a losing battle, the older woman delivered the news softly. The sympathy in her eyes had returned. "You have stitches in your forehead. A split lip, and some bruising on your cheeks. A few broken ribs."

Casey sighed, and examined her friend. "What aren't you telling me?"

Olivia let out a light laugh. "I thought I was the detective, here."

"What aren't you telling me?" The ADA repeated.

Swallowing stiffly, the detective revealed the last of the information. "Your ribs were shattered. They caused some internal bleeding."

At her pause, Casey prompted, "And?"

"And… you flat-lined twice on the table." As the young woman digested this information, Olivia grasped her hand again. "It was touch and go for a while, but you made it. You're here, and you're awake."

The other woman scoffed. "Bastard tried to kill me."

Her companion sighed. "There's one more thing."

Fearful, Casey asked, "He didn't… did he?"

"No," Olivia immediately dismissed her fears, "he didn't."

"Then what is it?"

She swallowed. "Not only did he try to kill you, he thinks he did."