Obsession
If you've forgotten her already, then you never deserved whatever pathetic life you might have shared, before it all hit the fan.
You woke up to breakfast in your old city. Motels never sat well with the old you, but you were still getting used to her again.
"Cabot," you answer your cell, a new one, for your old name.
The man on the other end of the line worked for the DA's office. Your argument with him went in a loop, and you remembered how sick you were of conflated logic.
"I'm sorry, Ms Cabot. I can't help you."
And you were so sure that Casey would give anything to weasel out of Special Victims. But you couldn't seem to reach her. And no one there was being any real help. You didn't suppose you could take a job doing straight Homicide, and trade positions with her like a playing card. Anyway, Alex's upward ascent to the DA's position had been curtailed by her death and resurrection. What did it matter, where she worked? She barely existed.
Obvious answer. And that was another call unanswered. Cragen wasn't in his office. Olivia...Olivia...her phone was out of service. Elliot's was out of range.
You knew she missed you, just like you knew there was something in that city, drawing you back. It wasn't just a case of body needing body, or the emptiness of a workaholic's apartment. Or the hole that a daily lie can burn into you, no matter what people said about lawyers being blood-suckers. Olivia bled you down to your bone marrow. Now all you had was that constant prickle at night, covering your every surface.
"Psychosomatic," doctors muttered.
"What? Manifestations of what?"
"Stress," was the lazy answer. "Depression," let them sell you some of their sponsor's happy pills.
It began after you went back to testify, after you were sucked back into the Witness Protection loop again. All those transformations made your head spin: Alex to Emily to Alex. Jessica was your latest self.
The doctors said you were imagining it. But you could feel her in the dark at night, as if you were back in her apartment, arguing over her stress levels and how she yelled out in her sleep. You know the sound of her restless breathing better than anyone. You woke up to it, tickling your ear. And when you flicked on the light, you swore you could see her shape in every shadow. She was your dressing gown. She was the embarrassing dream that you always had to lie about.
"You're sweating."
The man's voice in your bedroom always startled you, before you remembered.
"Just a dream....." You'd mumble. "It was just about you."
Jessica's brief boyfriend liked to believe the best in people. Even though you were constantly murmuring her name. It wasn't even by accident anymore.
"Olivia? What? No, I never called you that."
Sometimes, when you weren't even trying to imagine it, his lips become hers. And he suddenly knew you inside and out, it was like she was trying to claw her way out of him, and crawl up into you. You knew what her hands felt like. You knew the texture of her touch. Jessica's boyfriend never seemed to remember those nights too well.
Being back in New York was like a fever dream. You had to pause when someone at reception called you Ms Cabot again.
"Any messages for me?"
And you barely understood the receptionist's response.
When you slept, Olivia was there. You'd even started imagining her when you were supposed to know better. Being back home didn't help. Velez's death didn't help. You always heard Alex being murmured from the corners of your bedroom.
"Ms Cabot? You ok? A man dropped these off." The envelope was sealed.
"What did he look like?"
The receptionist shrugged, "I dunno. Like a guy?"
You were expecting a note from Elliot. But John Munch had signed it. You took it to the café down the street, trying not to look at the normal people sitting at their mundane breakfasts.
"Widows wear black, you know."
You jerked around. "What?"
Of course there was no one. You snatched up the menu.
"You look hot in black. It's not such a bad thing."
You studied the faces of the women nearby. They were just chatting casually about work briefs and weekend plans.
"Alex Cabot."
You body jolted at the man's voice. "Jesus, Detective..."
Munch smiled. "Startle you?"
You just shook your head, as he sat in the chair opposite.
"Welcome back." He was making an obvious effort to seem cheerful.
You narrowed your eyes. "What's going on, John?"
He shot you an uncertain look, and you prickled in irritation.
"Don't handle me like one of your victims. Where the hell is everybody? I've been back three days..." But when he dropped his gaze, you started to panic.
"Oh God, please. Not this. You can't....she hasn't...."
He looked surprised, but he nodded, then quietly spoke. "Did Hammond tell you?"
"Jesus." You could scarcely feel the chair beneath you. "No, no one..."
"She...It wasn't long after you testified."
You felt a set of arms wrap around you. Breathing, then lips, on your neck.
"I..." You could hear the familiar whispers.
Alex, sweetheart...
"It shouldn't have happened." Munch was trying to hide his anger. "She should have had backup."
You were trying hard not to cry. You jerked out of the seat. Away from him. And her.
"I can't....do this..."
"I'm so sorry, Alex." Munch steadied you as you stumbled away from the table.
"No." You pulled away, and felt her take your hand. "Don't touch me!"
John was using his guidance counselor expression. The other diners hushed their chatter, you closed your eyes and avoided their stares. Olivia caught you, as you leant backward. Her arms were smooth. Cool. You let her stroke your sides, down to your hips.
"Shit." You were shivering. It was a public restaurant, and her hands were caressing your breasts.
"I think you need to get out of here." John took hold of your hand, and Olivia moved away.
"Please," you murmured. But you weren't sure who to.
You weren't proud of the way you'd started behaving, after you returned 'home'.
"Did John take you to lunch?" Casey asked. Her voice was softer than you remembered it. Different intonations.
"Most of the squad did."
You supposed she was going to apologize. Say something polite about how it must be fucked up, to come home after all that, and find your girlfriend murdered. No, sorry, killed in the line of duty.
"You look like you could use a drink."
You didn't have time for Casey. "I've had enough pity for one week, counselor."
But Casey took a hold of your hand, and led you to her office "This isn't pity."
"I really should-"
"You came to see me."
"I came to see Liz."
"Alex." Her eyes burned into yours. You hated the sudden wave of arousal that followed.
"Casey, I -"
She put a finger to your lips. "Sweetheart, stop feeling so guilty. It's not the same thing as those boyfriends. We have a choice, here. And I have her purse..." she paused and looked behind her. "...it's somewhere here, at least. I can take you to that pretentious bar you love...."
"You'll what?"
"I'll even...I'll even dance."
And then she kissed you, and your legs felt like they might fall away from beneath you.
She smiled at your breathlessness as she gathered the ADA's things. "You'll apologize to Casey later? God, tell her...what the hell do we tell her?"
"Olivia?" You searched Casey's face and felt a familiar buzz in your stomach. "Olivia." Then you closed your eyes. "No." You swallowed. "They never remembered...when you... The boyfriends, they never knew you were..." You watched her expression falter, and you couldn't manage to find a way to describe just what it was that Olivia did when everything went dark in those bedrooms.
"So, dancing?" she asked, biting her lip unconsciously. "I know it's a little...weird."
You gaped at her. "You don't think that's an understatement?"
It wasn't fair to Casey. You'd managed to find an apartment, and knew when the caller ID blinked the ADA's name, that you're be spending more time exploring parts of her that she'd never agreed to share.
"It isn't rape," Olivia curled Casey's body against yours, and kissed your abdomen.
"Only because there's no precedent," you snapped.
"I dare you to argue 'possession' in a court room, Alex."
"That's beside the point. Does being dead kill your morals too?"
"You're making too much of this."
You pushed her off. "I'm. I'm making?...Jesus." You snatched up your clothes, and dressed hurriedly. "You're not the one sleeping with a stranger without her consent."
You'd gotten used to the way she twisted Casey's face into versions of her own expressions. Especially those glares.
"Look, I don't want to do this to Casey, either."
"I'm the one...God... It is rape, isn't it? Jesus Christ."
Olivia threw her hands up. "You'd rather it was someone else? Or no one. Would you prefer that?"
You could never say no to her.
They gave you a job working homicide cases, your own office, and a new set of detectives to push around like chess pieces. You were the great, undead Alex Cabot after all.
"It's good to have you back." Casey's voice made all the hairs on your body stand on end. You tried not to run into her at work, when she wasn't Olivia. But it happened daily. It seemed almost orchestrated.
"Yeah...it's good. Good to be back."
She usually seemed overly tired. Or sore. Like you were, from the touch of her lips and her fingers - things that she couldn't even remember. Olivia shouldn't push her like that. You shouldn't.
Casey came up to you, and you shivered slightly as she grabbed your arm. She shot you a look, and for a second it was as if she felt it too.
"How are you holding up?" She still hadn't let go. You both gravitated toward your office.
"Fine...the caseload's a bit of a shock, but I'll manage."
She looked at you a little too probingly. "I didn't mean with work."
You lowered your eyes, and she took it as a sign of grief.
"We all miss her." She squeezed your hand. You hated how attracted to her you'd become. It felt like a punishment from on high.
"I don't get how it happened," you stammered. "She never says...I mean, how could she? How the hell dare she?"
"Goddamn pig-headed..." she smiled, sadly. "You know what she was like. I wish..." her breath faltered. And then it hit you. Casey had loved Olivia. You could see something strange in her eyes.
"I know," was all you could manage, being that close to her.
"You and Olivia. I know you were, well..." Then she stared at you. Her hand stroked yours, and your stomach did a flip. She wasn't in love with Olivia. She wanted you.
You jerked away, "Shit, Casey."
Even if it was all Olivia's fault, you were disgusted at your own reaction.
"I'm sorry." Casey squeezed her eyes shut. She looked hurt. "This is so inappropriate."
"No, it isn't that." You wished there was an easy way to explain how wrong you felt, imagining how her body reacted to your touch. The way her voice murmured your name, how amazing she looked, in your bed.
"Casey. It isn't that I don't..." you were finding it hard to finish sentences around her.
"No, it's ok... God, I can't believe I just..." She was blushing. "You're grieving."
You wondered if that's what you were doing, if grief justified how despicable you'd become. Or was love an excuse? Was there any excuse? God, you hoped so.
"You loved her, didn't you?" she asked, hesitantly.
"I still do."
Casey's face was too close. Then your bodies were touching. You kissed her softly, tentatively, in your new office, without Olivia. The lips were only Casey's.
It was different when it was just the two of you. You loved the inside of her apartment. Her black sheets, and spare dressing gown. She took you along her normal-person routines. It was her hand in yours, and you began wishing things were as blissful as they seemed. And for a while, they were. Olivia stopped calling with Casey's cell phone, stopped coming over, in Casey's skin.
"I never...you know. With a woman, before," Casey blushed, the first time you met for dinner. You felt the guilt rise up. You wanted to say Olivia has that affect on people. But you just smiled back, and said, "Things aren't always what they seem."
She looked at you as if you were a mystery she craved to unravel. You loved the way her eyes traveled, innocently, over your body.
"Olivia. Was she your...?"
You winced involuntarily at the name, and Casey immediately thought she'd hurt the grieving widow again.
"Shit..."
"No, it's...I'm fine. I want to be here." You just didn't know which sin to feel guilty about, there were so many.
"Are you sure?"
You leant forward and kissed her. You loved how surprised she looked, when you pulled away. Like she couldn't understand why it felt so familiar.
But you missed Olivia. You missed her so much, that you woke up craving her, aching for the way her lips felt, the way she melted down other people like stolen jewelry. She was a poison you'd gotten addicted to.
Casey could never find a way to calm you, when you got that worked up.
"Where the hell is she?"
Casey rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and sighed. "Alex..."
"I haven't seen her in... She hates me, Oh God, she hates me."
Casey slipped out of bed and opened the blinds. "She doesn't hate you." It's what Casey always said. It was your morning routine. You kept forgetting where you were, while she pretended that didn't scare her.
"What did you do to her? What did you do with Olivia?"
Casey sat at the edge of the bed. "She's dead, Alex." You glared at her. She sighed and continued softly. "She's been dead for four years."
You rolled out of bed. "I know she's dead. That's not the issue."
She ran a hand through her hair. "Look, I don't have time for it this morning. I have to be in court. So do you."
"She's punishing me," you insisted. "She thinks I betrayed her."
"You're not going to make me feel guilty again," Casey started to dress. "You need your morning coffee. You'll be ok."
You searched for your bra, and then shot her a hesitant look when you realized you'd been doing it again. "I'm so sorry."
She kissed you on the forehead. "We'll talk to someone about this, ok sweetie?"
And you nodded, trying not to feel bitter. "Doctors, again?"
"Doctors again," she smiled. "You don't need to keep hearing voices."
"But I don't hear them," you protested. "That's the problem!" But she was already out in the kitchen. You fell back onto the bed.
Whatever the doctors thought, it wasn't you they should be examining, or drugging up and prodding like some piece of meat.
But that didn't seem to matter, because you and Casey had been together for over a year. You were the perfect poster couple, draped over each other on the couch, stressing over casework, (or that dinner next week with Casey's parents. Or what you were going to do about Branch, and the looks he'd been giving you both, when you waltzed up to work wearing each other's clothes.)
But one morning you woke up, and you couldn't breathe. It was Casey; she had you pinned to the bed.
"God, are you trying to scare me to death?"
She narrowed her eyes at you. "You think you can win at these games? You're only human, Alex."
"Games?" the pressure of her body was beginning to hurt you. "Come on. Get off me, Casey."
Casey sneered. "You always pushed your damn luck."
Your skin began to crawl. Then you realized.
"Damn it, Olivia." You jumped out of bed. You yanked your clothes on, and marched out of the bedroom. She followed, and goosebumps began forming on Casey's pale body
"Get dressed," you snapped. "I don't want to see her like this."
"You say that now," Olivia smirked.
You hated yourself for what you were doing to her. But you persisted.
"I love her, Olivia."
"Jesus, I can't believe I'm hearing this shit." She kicked a leg into the couch. Hard. She kicked again. You knew Casey bruised easily.
"Stop it."
"You don't love Casey," Olivia sneered.
You suddenly didn't want to be anywhere near her. "I'm sorry." She pulled on one of Casey's larger t-shirts, and didn't say anything.
"And Casey loves me." You said it coldly, knowing its use as a weapon. "She loves me back."
Then Olivia laughed. "Well, I'm sure she'd think that." She lowered her voice and stared you down. You felt beads of sweat break over your forehead. "It's only because of what we did to her. You know that."
"It isn't."
"You raped her."
"It was you! I did it to be with you."
"Casey was straight before."
"That doesn't mean shit." You squeezed your eyes shut. "If you don't leave her alone, I'll..."
"What? What'll you do?" Then her voice softened. "Come on, sweetheart. I...I can't stand it. Seeing you with her." She fell back on the couch. "You love me, don't you?"
Her voice made you melt, you let out a breath. "Of course." You curled up next to her, and kissed her cheek. "It's just..."
"You don't want this, do you?"
"I want you," you said, like a child. A terrified, stupid child. "But you...scare me."
Olivia spoke quietly. "I didn't want this. I wanted normal. I wanted us to be normal."
You glared at her. "Then why did you go do such a goddamn stupid thing? Getting yourself killed."
She jerked away. "Like getting yourself shot? Like disappearing for years?"
"You bitch," you sobbed. "How could you do this to me?"
"How could you fall for Casey?"
"I didn't plan it."
"Did you think I wouldn't see?"
"Well, you don't feel any pain, Olivia. Unless you're using her. You don't have to breathe everyday."
"Oh, what the hell would you know?"
You suddenly wanted to hurt her. You stared at her darkly. "You're trying to kill me. I can't sleep. I can't work. Do you want to drive me crazy?"
"It's no less than you deserve, after what you've done."
"I hate you."
"You love me."
"Get out," you barked. "I want you out of there."
"But can you make me?"
"Get the fuck out of my girlfriend!" You shoved her up against the back of the couch. Olivia wasn't the stronger one now. Casey's body was softer, like her. Her breath left her.
"Alex," she murmured. "Alex, you don't want this."
"You don't know how sick this makes her," you snapped. "It's like you want her dead as well."
"Well, that would simplify things."
You pushed her harder, and she moaned, but not out of pleasure. "Say that again, Olivia," you dared her. "Come on."
"I know you've thought about doing it," she gasped. You had your arm up against her throat.
"Shit," she choked. "You're only hurting Casey."
Her face was losing its color. You let go, realizing your hands were shaking.
"How could you do this?" You shook your head at the ridiculousness of it. "Where did you go, Olivia?"
"I'm still me," she used Casey's voice softly now.
"I'm not even me," you said. "It's like Alex is dead, and I'm stuck in her twisted afterlife."
She leaned into you, stroking your cheek. "If you don't kill Casey," she narrowed her eyes. "Then I will."
That's when you slapped her. You slapped her so hard that your hand came away, aching. Her face betrayed her surprise. You hit her again with your fist. Olivia cried out, and swore at you, and hit you back. But you couldn't care. You started crying, pathetically, and you slid down hopelessly to the floor.
"Alex?"
"I'm sorry," you mumbled. "I'm so sorry. I love you. I'msorryI'msorry," there weren't enough I'm sorry's in the world. You felt a hand on your shoulder, you shuddered and shrugged it away.
"Is she gone?" Casey's voice was small now. You turned to her.
"What?"
"Thank God you got rid of her." She smiled, and pulled you back onto the couch. She had a red welt forming on her cheek. You reached out for it, and snapped your hand back, feeling your insides contort.
"Casey?" You weren't sure what to trust anymore. She reached out and stroked your hair, tenderly.
"It's me."
You shook your head, unable to speak.
"Olivia's gone, isn't she?" Casey asked. "You can't...you can't feel her anywhere, can you?"
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.
She wrapped her arms around you. "You both must think I'm stupid. Entire days missing..."
"You remember it?" You closed your eyes. She lifted your chin to her face. "Oh, God," you stammered. "You do."
She just shook her head again, her eyes were cold. "I hope you hurt her. I hope she felt this."
"She did." You hesitated, meeting her eyes. "You could feel it? Not...not when she and I..."
She looked away.
"All of it?"
"I know you loved her."
You just gaped at her.
She smirked. "I'm glad she hurt you back." She touched the bruise fading onto your chin.
"Casey..." You entangled your fingers hers. "Casey, I'm going to miss her."
She dropped your hand. You hated seeing that familiar look of incomprehension. "You'll miss her?"
You hated yourself. "I love her."
"She wanted to kill me!"
You pulled away. "I don't know...I don't know what I want."
She let out a breath. "I don't care. She comes anywhere near me again, and I'll call an exorcist."
You raised your eyebrows, almost afraid to make the joke. "They're just in movies, Case."
She shook her head, and took you forcefully by the hand. "You're stuck with me, Alex. That woman isn't coming back."
You smiled at the toughness in her tone. For once you stopped thinking of her as the victim.
But as you followed her to the bedroom, you made sure you had something with you to protect yourself. A baseball bat? No, a kitchen knife. You slid it under your side of the bed, before you crawled up next to her, uncertain of who exactly you wanted to use it on.
"Good night, Casey." You kissed her. You weren't sure if you wanted Olivia to come back, and you weren't sure if you'd kiss her, or wrap your hands around her throat.
"Sweet dreams, Alex."
You didn't even know if you were going to allow Casey to sleep through the night.