#i dont doubt that resonates :( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writingbuckets · 2 days ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐱

paige bueckers x podcaster!reader

wc: 4.9k

a/n: last chapter!! i've been writing some oneshots as i dont plan on starting a new series for a while, so i have those queued to come out over the next several days!

Paige stood by the door, her hand on the handle, her face a mix of frustration and regret. The air between you felt heavy, loaded with words that had cut deeper than either of you intended. She hesitated, her lips parting as though she might say something, but then she shook her head.

“I’ll give you some space,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t reply, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you stared at the floor. A knot of anger and sadness churned in your stomach, and though you wanted to stop her, to demand that she stay and work this out now, you let her leave. The door clicked shut behind her, and the silence that followed was deafening.

You sank onto the couch, staring at the spot where Paige had just been. The argument replayed in your mind, every word sharp and jagged. Your heart ached with the weight of it all—how could someone you loved so much, who claimed to know you so well, dismiss something so integral to who you were?

Your eyes drifted to the framed photo on the bookshelf, a candid shot of you and Paige laughing at the beach. It had been taken on a rare day off for her, one where she hadn’t been thinking about practice schedules or interviews, and you hadn’t been preoccupied with editing episodes or planning content. In that moment, you’d felt so connected, so certain that love was enough to bridge any gap.

But now, the gap felt wider than ever.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, and let out a shaky breath. Could you keep holding on to a love that asked you to compromise so much of yourself? You didn’t doubt your feelings for Paige; you loved her more deeply than you’d ever thought possible. But love wasn’t supposed to come at the cost of your identity.

Still, even through the hurt, you found yourself thinking of the way she looked at you, how her presence could light up the darkest days. You thought of the sacrifices she’d made to reach where she was, the pressure she carried every day as the face of women’s basketball. Maybe she’d spoken out of fear, out of her own need to feel like you were in this together.

You sighed, the anger ebbing just enough for empathy to creep in. But the question remained: Could you find a way forward that didn’t require you to lose yourself in the process?

Paige sat in her car in the dimly lit parking lot, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. She didn’t drive away immediately; instead, she stared out at the rain-speckled windshield, the sound of droplets tapping against the glass a muted backdrop to the storm raging in her mind.

The hurt in your eyes haunted her. She’d never meant to make you feel small or unimportant, but as she replayed the conversation, she could hear the weight of her own words, how dismissive they’d sounded.

It’s not like it’s… a real job.

She winced, shame curling in her chest. How could she have said that? She knew how much your podcast meant to you, how hard you’d worked to build something meaningful. She’d seen the late nights, the endless brainstorming sessions, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about an episode that resonated with your listeners. And yet, she’d brushed it aside in her thoughtless attempt to simplify things.

Paige leaned back in her seat, running a hand through her hair. She’d been so focused on her own fears—on how overwhelming it felt to face the unknown of the draft, to think about moving across the country and starting a new chapter—that she hadn’t stopped to consider yours.

She’d assumed that love meant you’d follow her anywhere, but wasn’t love also about meeting in the middle? About supporting each other’s dreams instead of asking one person to give up everything?

Her chest tightened. Paige hated feeling like she’d failed you, but even more than that, she hated the idea of losing you.

With a deep breath, she started the car, her determination settling in. If there was one thing she’d learned from basketball, it was that you don’t quit just because you’re down. You regroup. You adapt. And you fight for what matters most.

**********

The soft knock at your apartment door startled you the next morning, pulling you from the haze of your thoughts. You hadn’t been expecting anyone, and after the emotionally charged night you’d had, the last thing you wanted was company. Still, the persistent sound echoed again, gentle but insistent. Reluctantly, you pushed off the couch, your legs feeling heavy as you made your way to the door.

Your heart tightened as you peered through the peephole.

It was Paige.

She stood there on your doorstep, clutching a bouquet of sunflowers and lavender—your favorite flowers. The vibrant yellows and soft purples stood out against the overcast sky behind her. Her hoodie was pulled low over her head, the sleeves hanging slightly past her hands. She looked smaller than usual, her shoulders slouched, her confident posture replaced by something hesitant and unsure. It was a look you rarely saw on her.

For a moment, you considered not opening the door. The wound from last night’s argument still felt raw, the hurt words she’d thrown at you circling endlessly in your mind. But as your eyes flicked back to her face through the peephole, you saw the flicker of vulnerability in her expression, and your resolve faltered.

Taking a deep breath, you unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“Hey,” Paige said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey,” you replied, your tone guarded. You didn’t move to let her in, the weight of last night still heavy between you.

Paige shifted on her feet, her grip tightening around the stems of the bouquet. “I… I know I should’ve called first,” she said, her words rushed and uncertain, “but I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me. Still, I needed to see you.” She paused, swallowing hard. “Can I come in?”

For a moment, you hesitated. The pain of her dismissive words still lingered, but the sincerity in her voice made it hard to shut her out. Finally, you stepped aside, motioning for her to enter.

Paige walked in cautiously, as though afraid the wrong move might shatter whatever fragile truce had allowed her inside. She held out the bouquet, her hands trembling slightly. “These are for you.”

You took them silently, your fingers brushing hers briefly before you pulled away. The familiar, calming scent of lavender wafted up as you turned to place the flowers on the counter.

When you turned back, Paige was still near the door, her hands shoved deep into her hoodie pocket. She looked at you with those piercing blue eyes that usually exuded confidence but now brimmed with uncertainty.

“I messed up,” she began, her voice unsteady. “I mean, obviously. But I just… I need you to know how sorry I am. About everything I said, about how I made you feel. It wasn’t fair to you.”

You leaned against the counter, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “Paige…”

“No, please,” she cut in, taking a tentative step forward. “Let me finish. I didn’t mean to make it sound like what you do isn’t important. I know how much your podcast means to you. I’ve seen how much passion you pour into it, how much time and effort you’ve spent building it into something real, something that matters.”

Her voice cracked slightly, and she ran a hand through her hair, her frustration with herself evident. “And the fact that I made you feel like that didn’t matter? That’s on me. That’s my fault, and I hate that I hurt you.”

Her words hung in the air, raw and unpolished, and you felt the wall you’d built around yourself begin to crumble, piece by piece. But the sting of her earlier dismissal wasn’t something you could simply brush aside.

“I love you,” Paige continued, her voice thick with emotion. “And I want to build a life with you. But that doesn’t mean I get to decide what that life looks like all on my own. I get that now.”

You exhaled slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly as you processed her words.

“Paige,” you said softly, your tone no longer harsh but still firm, “I love you too. But I need you to understand something. I can’t—won’t—give up everything I’ve worked for. My career, my independence, my identity… they’re not things I’m willing to sacrifice. Not even for you.”

Her lips parted as if to respond, but she stopped herself, nodding instead.

“I know,” she said after a pause, her voice quieter now. “I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to give up anything that makes you… you. But I also don’t want to lose you. I need to figure out how to support you without asking you to give up everything for me.”

Your expression softened as you saw the vulnerability etched into her features. Slowly, you stepped closer, your arms dropping to your sides.

“This can’t be about one of us making all the sacrifices,” you said gently. “It has to be about meeting in the middle. Compromising. Finding a way to make this work for both of us.”

Paige’s eyes flickered with a mixture of relief and hope. She reached out hesitantly, her hands brushing against yours. “So… what does that look like? For us?”

You squeezed her hands, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “For now? It means long distance. You go wherever the draft takes you, and I stay here to keep building what I’ve started. We’ll visit each other, and we’ll figure it out as we go. When the time is right, we’ll decide what’s next—together.”

Paige let out a shaky breath, her shoulders finally relaxing. “Together,” she echoed, her voice soft but resolute.

You nodded, a flicker of hope warming your chest. “Together.”

She stepped forward, pulling you into a hug that felt like both an apology and a promise. Her arms wrapped tightly around you, as if to hold you closer than the distance you’d both soon face. For the first time since the argument, you felt a glimmer of reassurance. It wouldn’t be easy, but you could make it through this—together.

**********

The morning sun had barely begun its slow crawl across the sky when a soft, rhythmic knock echoed through your apartment. You weren’t surprised—you’d been awake for a while, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to push away the heaviness pressing against your chest. Today was the last full day before Paige left for Dallas, before everything changed.

Taking a steadying breath, you padded toward the door, your heart clenching at the sight of her standing there.

Paige looked like herself, but different. Her usual effortless confidence was tinged with something softer, something quieter. She wore an old hoodie, the sleeves slightly too long, her hands tucked into them like she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. But despite the bittersweet weight hanging between you, she was smiling—her familiar, lopsided grin that never failed to make your heart stutter.

"Ready for our adventure?" she asked, her voice light, but her eyes—those bright blue eyes—held something deeper. Nostalgia, maybe. Or that quiet sadness neither of you had dared to name.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, willing yourself to match her energy. Today wasn’t about being sad. It was about holding on to everything you had built together before distance tested it.

You returned her smile, though it felt a little fragile at the edges. “Depends. Where are we going first?”

Paige’s smirk deepened as she lifted her car keys and jingled them between her fingers. “You’ll see.”

There was a spark of mischief in her voice, a glimmer of excitement that made it easier to ignore the ache in your chest.

You sighed playfully, shaking your head as you grabbed your jacket. “You know I hate surprises.”

Paige’s grin widened. “That’s what makes them fun.”

Stepping outside, you locked the door behind you, inhaling the crisp morning air. The world was still quiet, still untouched by the day ahead, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you. Like time hadn’t already started pulling you in different directions.

Paige opened the passenger door for you, her hand brushing lightly against your back as you slid inside. That simple touch, so casual yet so familiar, sent warmth through your skin—a reminder of how easy it had always been between you.

As she rounded the front of the car and slipped into the driver’s seat, she glanced over at you, her smirk softening. “You ready?”

You weren’t sure if she was asking about the day ahead or everything that would follow.

Either way, you nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

And with that, she started the engine, the hum of the car filling the quiet morning as you set off on a day you both knew you’d remember for the rest of your lives.

The tiny coffee shop on the corner looked exactly the same as it had the first time you’d stepped inside together—warm, cozy, and filled with the rich aroma of espresso and freshly baked pastries. The soft hum of chatter mixed with the whir of the espresso machine, creating the same comforting soundtrack that had played in the background of that first morning. It felt like stepping back in time, like you could almost see the ghosts of your past selves sitting in the very booth you were about to claim.

Paige walked ahead of you, slipping into your usual spot by the window with the kind of familiarity that made your heart ache. You followed, setting your drink down as you slid into the seat across from her.

She looked around with a small, nostalgic smile, her fingers drumming lightly against the table. “Remember the first time we came here?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with amusement.

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah. And we both swore it wasn’t a date.”

Paige smirked, leaning back against the worn leather seat. “Even though we sat here for three hours, split a muffin, and made fun of all the couples with their matching lattes?”

You grinned, stirring your drink absentmindedly. “And then you got jealous when the barista flirted with me.”

Paige scoffed, but you caught the way her eyes flickered, the way her lips twitched like she was fighting back a smile. “I was not jealous.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Then why did you glare at him so hard he messed up my order?”

She groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little jealous.”

You laughed, tilting your head as you studied her. The way her fingers curled around her cup, the way the early morning light caught the golden strands in her hair, the way her expression softened in a way that was reserved just for you. It was so painfully familiar—so entirely Paige—and yet, there was something different about this moment. A weight in the air, a quiet understanding that this was more than just a casual coffee shop visit.

You exhaled slowly, running a thumb along the edge of your cup. “It’s crazy to think how much has changed since then.”

Paige’s smile faltered for just a second, a flicker of something unreadable passing through her eyes. But then, she reached for your hand across the table, lacing her fingers through yours with the same ease as she always had.

“Yeah,” she murmured, squeezing gently. “But some things never do.”

And sitting there, in the place where it all started, you hoped she was right.

The sun had started its slow descent toward the horizon by the time you left the coffee shop, the golden light stretching long shadows across the pavement. The drive to the beach was quiet but comfortable, the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. Paige kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting absentmindedly on your thigh, tracing slow, comforting circles with her thumb.

When she pulled into the small, familiar lot near the dunes, neither of you moved right away. You just sat there, taking in the view—the way the sky bled into soft hues of pink and orange, the waves rolling gently against the shore, the familiar stretch of sand where so many memories lived.

“This feels like a movie,” Paige mused, breaking the silence. “The last full day before I leave. Revisiting all our milestones like some kind of emotional montage.”

You let out a small laugh, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Yeah, well, if this were a movie, I’d like to think we’d get a happy ending.”

Paige turned to you then, something unreadable flickering behind her blue eyes. “We will,” she said, like it wasn’t even a question. And maybe, for now, that was enough.

The cool ocean breeze wrapped around you as you walked along the shoreline, your bare feet sinking into the wet sand with each step. Paige’s fingers were laced with yours, her grip warm and steady despite the coolness in the air. The rhythmic crash of the waves filled the space between you, an unspoken reminder of just how much had happened here.

“This is where we said it for the first time,” you murmured, giving her hand a small squeeze.

Paige let out a soft hum of agreement, a smile playing at her lips. “You were so nervous.”

You shot her a look. “I was not.”

She raised an eyebrow, amused. “You were fidgeting the whole time. Kept staring at the water like it had all the answers.”

You sighed dramatically, nudging her side. “Fine. Maybe I was a little nervous.”

Paige stopped walking then, gently pulling you to a stop with her. The way she turned to face you felt significant, like she was grounding herself in this moment—like she needed you to know she was here, fully present, despite everything changing around you.

“For the record,” she said, her voice softer now, “I was too.”

You blinked at her in surprise, tilting your head. “Paige Bueckers, nervous?”

She let out a small laugh, bumping your shoulder. “Shocking, right?” Then, more seriously, she added, “But only because I knew what I felt for you was real. And I was scared it would be too much, too soon.”

Your chest tightened, warmth spreading through you at the quiet vulnerability in her voice. You reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, letting your fingertips linger against her cheek.

“It was never too much,” you murmured.

Paige’s lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something more, but instead, she closed the distance between you, pressing a lingering kiss against your lips. The sound of the waves crashing behind you faded into the background as you melted into the moment, into her.

When she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breath warm against your skin.

“I love you,” she whispered, the words carrying the weight of every memory tied to this place.

You smiled, your hands slipping around her waist, holding her close. “I love you too.”

And as the ocean stretched endlessly before you, it didn’t feel like an ending. It felt like a promise.

By the time you left the beach, the sky had fully darkened, the last traces of sunlight swallowed by the horizon. The drive back into the city was quiet, but not in a heavy way—just comfortable. Paige kept one hand resting lightly on your knee, her thumb tracing absentminded patterns against your skin, like she was trying to memorize you through touch alone.

The restaurant came into view, its warm glow spilling out onto the sidewalk, a beacon of familiarity. It looked exactly the same as it had that first night—when nerves had danced in your stomach, when you and Paige had tiptoed around the fact that this was a date, no matter how casually you had framed it beforehand.

She put the car in park, then turned to you with a small, knowing smile. “Last stop.”

You let out a breath, shaking your head with a soft chuckle. “Crazy how much has happened since the first time we walked in here together.”

Paige grinned, reaching over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Back when you still pretended you weren’t into me?”

You rolled your eyes, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I was trying to play it cool.”

Paige let out a laugh, the sound warm and familiar, before hopping out of the car. She jogged around to your side, opening the door for you with an exaggerated flourish. “Well, lucky for me, I saw right through that.”

Inside, the restaurant was exactly as you remembered it—the dim lighting casting everything in a golden hue, the hum of conversations weaving together, the faint scent of garlic and wine lingering in the air. The same elderly couple sat in their usual corner booth, the same soft jazz played from the overhead speakers. It was as if time had folded in on itself, bringing you right back to where it all began.

The host at the podium looked up, recognition sparking in his eyes as he greeted you with a knowing smile. “Welcome back. Your usual table?”

You exchanged a glance with Paige before nodding.

As you settled into your seats, memories of that first date washed over you—the way your hands had hovered awkwardly over the menu, the way Paige had reached across the table to grab your hand, steady and sure, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Now, she looked at you with that same unwavering warmth, but this time, there were no uncertainties between you.

“This feels like déjà vu,” she murmured, her thumb brushing idly over the back of your hand.

You smiled, squeezing her fingers. “Except this time, we know exactly what we are to each other.”

Paige’s expression softened, something unreadable flickering in her eyes before she reached into her jacket pocket. “I, uh… I got you something.”

Your brows lifted slightly as she slid a small velvet box across the table. The sight of it made your heart stutter, your breath hitching as you carefully lifted the lid.

Inside, nestled against the dark fabric, was a delicate silver necklace—a tiny basketball charm resting at the center, catching the dim light just right.

Paige rubbed the back of her neck, looking almost nervous now. “I know long distance is gonna be hard,” she admitted, her voice quieter than before. “But I wanted you to have something to remind you that no matter where I am, I’m always yours.”

Your fingers trembled slightly as you lifted the necklace, the weight of her words settling in your chest.

“Paige…” you whispered, blinking against the sudden sting in your eyes.

She gave you a sheepish smile, her thumb tapping restlessly against the table. “Do you like it?”

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. “I love it.”

Relief flickered across her face before she reached for your hand again, her grip warm and reassuring. “We’re gonna make this work,” she said firmly, like she was making a promise. “No matter what.”

You exhaled, letting her words anchor you, letting yourself believe in them. “Yeah,” you said, nodding. “We will.”

And as the night stretched on, filled with laughter and quiet glances and fingers laced together across the table, you realized something—this wasn’t an ending.

It was just another beginning.

The night stretched on longer than either of you expected—not because time slowed, but because neither of you wanted it to end.

After dinner, Paige insisted on driving aimlessly around the city, her hand never leaving yours as she took you down streets filled with memories. The campus gym parking lot, where she’d first pulled you into a kiss after one of her late-night practices. The tiny ice cream shop where she’d tried (and failed) to impress you with her terrible toppings combination. The overlook just outside of town, where you’d once parked and sat on the hood of her car, talking about the future like it was something distant, not something arriving at your doorstep in just a few hours.

By the time you ended up back at your apartment, the sky was already starting to shift from deep blue to soft hues of pink and gold. Neither of you had slept, but exhaustion wasn’t something either of you acknowledged. You spent those last quiet hours curled up together on your couch, Paige’s head resting against your shoulder as she traced lazy circles over the back of your hand with her thumb.

When the alarm on her phone finally went off—its sharp sound slicing through the stillness—Paige let out a long sigh, pressing her face into your neck. “I changed my mind,” she mumbled. “I’m staying.”

You chuckled, running your fingers through her hair. “And what, ditch the WNBA for me?”

She peeked up at you, smirking. “I mean, you’re a pretty compelling reason.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Nice try, Bueckers.”

Still, when she finally stood to grab her bag, you saw the way her expression shifted—the weight of reality settling over both of you.

The drive to the airport was quiet, Paige’s fingers intertwined with yours on the center console. Every now and then, she’d give your hand a squeeze, as if reminding herself that you were still there.

And then, too soon, you were standing inside the terminal.

The airport was a whirlwind of movement—travelers rushing to their gates, the hum of announcements over the PA system, and the low murmur of conversations all blending into a chaotic symphony. But for you and Paige, time seemed to slow.

You stood together near the security checkpoint, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. Paige’s carry-on bag was slung over her shoulder, and she kept fidgeting with the strap, her usual confidence replaced by a nervous energy.

“This feels… surreal,” she admitted, her voice quieter than usual.

You nodded, your throat tight. “Yeah, it does.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled by everything left unsaid. Then, you reached into your bag and pulled out a small box, holding it out to her with a soft smile.

Paige frowned slightly, taking it. “What’s this?”

“Just something to remind you of home.”

She opened the box carefully, her eyes widening as she pulled out a sleek, black leather journal. Her fingers ran over the cover, tracing the embossed initials P.B. in the corner.

Flipping it open, she found the first page already filled in—your handwriting neat and familiar.

“For every new chapter of your life, and every thought you can’t put into words. No matter where you go, I’m always listening. Love, Y/N.”

Paige blinked a few times, her thumb grazing over the words as she let out a soft chuckle. “You’re really making sure I don’t forget to call, huh?”

You smirked. “I figured if you ever run out of things to say to me, you can write them down instead.”

She exhaled a small laugh, shaking her head. “I love it,” she murmured, holding the journal to her chest before meeting your gaze again. “I love you.”

Your heart clenched, but you kept your smile steady. “I love you too.”

Paige laughed softly, but you saw the way her eyes glossed over. “I’ll use it every day.”

Reaching into her bag, Paige pulled out something of her own and handed it to you. It was one of her jerseys, neatly folded. You unfolded it, your breath catching when a piece of paper slipped out from inside.

Curious, you opened the note, Paige’s handwriting filling the page.

“Y/N,This jersey is just a piece of fabric, but it’s part of me—just like you are. Wherever I go, whatever I do, you’ll always be my home. I love you, more than words can say.Paige”

Your eyes flickered up to meet hers, your throat tightening. “Paige…”

She stepped closer, cupping your cheek with her hand. “I mean it,” she whispered. “No matter how far I go, I’m yours. Always.”

You leaned into her touch, swallowing back the overwhelming emotions pressing against your ribs. “I’ll be at every game,” you promised, voice thick. “Front row, screaming my lungs out.”

Paige chuckled, brushing her thumb against your cheek. “Oh, I know. You’re gonna be my biggest distraction.”

You smirked through the ache in your chest. “That’s the plan.”

The final boarding call for her flight crackled through the speakers, and Paige sighed, glancing toward the gate.

“I guess this is it,” she murmured.

You nodded, exhaling shakily. “For now.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you like she never wanted to let go. “I’ll call you as soon as I land,” she whispered.

“You better,” you said, your voice muffled against her shoulder.

As she finally pulled back, her hand lingered in yours, and you felt the absence the moment her fingers slipped away.

You watched her walk toward the gate, her bracelets catching the light as she waved one last time before disappearing into the crowd.

And though your heart ached with the weight of goodbye, you held her jersey close, knowing this wasn’t the end—just the start of a new chapter.

149 notes · View notes

iwoulddieforher · 20 days ago

Text

Homebound (Homeward-bound, Housebound) | Alex Cabot × Casey Novak

Author's Note: 17k words- longer than Rigid, which now makes this my longest work yet 😋 Inspired by @jeongonion 's frustration sex and then make up prompt

Warnings: Hate sex! which takes place technically in a church! Alex is heavily implied to have a superiority complex. Mentions of discussion surrounding pregnancy complications but dont worry no one's pregnant I hate pregnancy fics

Summary: Casey Novak had indulged Alexandra Cabot in a one-night stand the night before her testimony, and they hadn't been able to see each other after. When Alex finally gets out of WITSEC, she returns to seek her out, only to find Casey was now suspended. She tries not to let it bother her, but her obsession born from the sudden stark realization that she had underestimated Casey's prowess and desperation for the comfort Novak brings manifests a creature that commands Alex's attention. The beast guides her on a path to discover the new life Casey has constructed- but Alex is angry, and she's desperate to force Casey to finally look at her again.

Find/read this fic below or alternatively on AO3, by clicking on this text

The small whimpers Casey elicited when Alex was nipping her throat had replayed over and over in the blonde's head for years, now, and they were slowly starting to drive her insane.

She had been thrilled, initially, being able to end her stint as chief of the homicide bureau (realizing all the corruption and politics she had despised putting up with as a lower-ranking ADA was so hard to avoid for those in positions of power and finally being able to quit doing that), returning instead to SVU, only to find out the redhead she had spent the second half of witness protection wondering about no longer worked there. She had gotten her license suspended, and promptly vanished from the city entirely- despite her best attempts to weasel information, it seemed like no one genuinely knew where she was.

And that was fine and all, if she wanted to sulk so be it, but then the mark Olivia had made on her calendar that circled the day her suspension was over had come and then gone and there was no word from the faux blonde attorney whatsoever- the only change that had occurred was her number being disconnected, which aggravated Liv to a great extent, as she had made it a habit of calling once a month just to offer a quick word, and since the mailbox never rejected as full she assumed Casey was at least listening.

The small traces of Casey the woman had made on the detectives Alex used to be so familiar with were evident, though, in the way Olivia argued, in the way Stabler bantered. She had become a friend to them, and the strange churn of emotions in Alex's chest when she let her mind wander over to the singular night the two had shared was only further emphasized because of it.

That, too, was driving her insane. The impact Casey had made. And yes, it did make her feel guilty. She knew, logically, that getting riled up that the faux blonde had made her place there after the initial hardship she had endured was ridiculous. But when Olivia in her morning rush accidentally swapped Alex's regular coffee order out for Casey's, it struck a nerve that seemed to resonate with the rest of her.

Even Donnelly, it seemed, had a crack in the shell of her heart where Casey had rammed into it like the fireball of a woman she was.

"Alex," the elder blonde woman barked, "What is it with you-? I'd assume after being a Bureau Chief you'd understand how to handle something like this-"

Alex had never quite made it to the place of lashing back out, so she just gritted her teeth and snorted under her breath while waiting for the judge to finish her tongue-lashing. One thing, she said, though, stuck out to Alex to an unreasonable degree.

"If Novak had returned to her position, I doubt I would've needed to step in on this matter," the judge had snapped in a fit of impatience and unsympathetic scolding.

"What?" Alex bristled, her eyebrows knitting over her eyes from frustration. "Casey?"

That seemed to pause the judge for a second, and with a sigh, she removed her glasses to wipe her sleeve over the lenses with what Alex could easily mistake as a regretful expression. "Pardon. It's unprofessional of me to compare you two."

"But, what did you mean?" the younger woman forced the issue, rising and taking a step forward imploringly, not sure why her soul was so driven to do so.

Donnelly's face shifted in mild confusion, maybe even a hint of irritation, but with a jerk of her eyebrows, she relented what was going through her mind when she had made that comment.

"Novak, brash and headstrong as she was- there was no denying she was a brilliant prosecutor. Her conviction rate was the highest we'd seen in a while. I suppose I'm just irate that she didn't return- I assumed she would. That's no excuse for taking it out on you, Cabot, I apologize. Casey was..."

Deft, Alex tried to internally supply her with the adjective. Unique. Profoundly capable, especially astute. She was something different, something bigger and more lively than the harsh, polished walls of the DA's office could encompass properly- or at least, everyone seemed to act like it.

Donnelly still assumed she was just upset at the comparison- and yes, she supposed she was, but the churn of emotions in the pit of her stomach twisted around something different.

"Casey's conviction rate?" Alex felt her brow furrow despite herself, and the judge gave a small modest shrug and then supplied her with the information,

"Seventy-one percent. Nearly unheard of in our line of work."

The only reason it wasn't literally unheard of was because Casey Novak had achieved it.

Perhaps it was simply the nature of the human ego to be hurt by comparison, but something within Alex's psyche seemed to shift at that.

The woman was a formidable prosecutor, that much had been obvious, but in some ways- perhaps it had just been the nature of her return, the way people had treated her as some sort of legendary creature flew in from far winds, and the look of reverence that flickered in Casey's eyes when they had first eye contact, but Alex had always assumed that, between the two of them, she was the better prototype for an attorney. She had heard in gossip and rumors how headstrong Casey was, how she seemed to run into house fires without question, and how she acted more like a detective herself rather than the political elegance an ADA should exhibit.

She knew better- she had been raised better, raised in a family of legal connections and in some ways simple nepotism. She radiated the esteem and elegance a female attorney needed to succeed, she had been bred to do so, and she assumed that, through these ways, and especially through the way Casey had treated her, that Alex was a superior in some way. Not to a degree that might suggest she was egotistical, (perhaps this entire train of thought was, a part of her mind murmured to her), but to some degree nonetheless.

It was simply the natural conclusion that although, yes, Casey was good, Alex was better. The squad had treated them as such, after all.

Was that a wrong assumption to make?

She had envisioned herself as a hawk come down to accompany songbird, but this startling information seemed to suggest she had misinterpreted the situation entirely.

Alex felt mildly sick with a sudden burst of anger, an animal that clawed its way from her stomach into her lungs and she let out a slow, long exhale.

"Don't let that agitate you, Cabot," Donnelly caught on, and then with a wave dismissed her from her office after ensuring whatever move Alex had been trying to make case-wise would no longer be an option.

Alex decided to take the rest of the day to sulk, snapping curt responses at the detectives who bothered her and rubbing her fingers on her temple more than once as if to soothe a headache that didn't exist.

The next day she felt better, yes, but bitterness resided in her soul which stayed there stubbornly for the next weeks.

Casey stayed in her mind like a very odd plague, or perhaps her infatuation had simply bred a needy beast of a creature that demanded her attention.

It may have been the way Donnelly had compared them- the idea that while Alex had assumed she was the sharper weapon, Casey was in reality a force more powerful than she was. A sort of anxious resentment and bitterness stirred- but she told herself it was only natural to be upset when bested, except the majority of her brain was scrambling to retort that no, she hadn't been bested, Casey was gone- censured, suspended- and she was still here. Didn't that make her better? Didn't she still have higher footing?

The whispers of Casey's quiet pleas in her ear, the way she had looked up through half-lidded eyes at Alex as if she was some sort of goddess she would spend days worshipping except for the fact they were about to convict the assassin who had attempted on Alex's life a meager night later, had created a sort of fondness in Alex's mind as the one who could lay above her. The one Casey wanted to worship, that being looked at meant she was special in some sort of way, and that simply didn't make sense to her if Casey was truly the higher power.

She was supposed to be better. Why would Casey have acted in such a way if she wasn't? Or did Casey just, as she had, assume she was, and if she realized she wasn't, she'd- what, lose interest? No, Alex wouldn't allow herself to think about such things. Alex was better.

Perhaps it was simply that Alex was shaken by the fact no reunion had occurred. She had really expected Novak to show back up, eager and impatient to begin convicting felons once again, expected to fall into step beside her and share caseloads.

She knew Olivia had expected the same, too, in the way that she huffed when she had to flip the calendar to the next month, leaving the date where she had penned at the end of Casey's suspension in an important red pen that had come and then gone without a word from the now rather mysterious former attorney. It would've been alright to hear that she had returned to working somewhere else, at least, that the pursuit of justice that had run so fervently in her bloodstream was still being used if not with them, but no such word was ever announced. Alex had even, on Olivia's request, inquired into it, but Casey had never utilized her now-lifted ban to reassume her license to practice.

And that frustrated Alex, frustrated her immensely, and that snowballed into further frustrations when she couldn't put her thumb on why she was so irked in the first place.

She had really wanted- no, in the nights long passed in witness protection when she had thought about it, she needed it. Under the covers in bed, toying with the page of a book she wasn't reading, she had pictured walking back into the squad room alone- no marshals, no escort. Just her jacket slung over her shoulder, just a pitstop before reclaiming her job and her title, to say hi. She had envisioned feverishly the look of joy on Olivia's face as she jumped out of her chair to meet her, arms holding Alex's elbows the way Olivia always did, perhaps Alex cupping Olivia's face, too. Looking over at Huang and Stabler and the others, all aligned in her imagination as if waiting for her to step back in as if nothing traumatic had happened at all, exchanging a curt but meaningful nod with Cragen.

And then she closed the book entirely, because holding it was pointless, her blank eyes filled with the imagination of Casey strolling back into the precinct with a sigh- returning from arraignment, perhaps, or maybe court. Still adorned in her court clothes, the tailored fabric that fit her figure perfectly, looking like a soldier, or perhaps a wife, fighting the good fight or nurturing justice and civilization in the way Alex felt as though only she could really appreciate, and then her eyes would land on Alex.

And oh, how Alex dreamed about those green eyes widening slightly, how she'd pause, stunned for a second, and then smile- perhaps shyly, perhaps brightly, perhaps perhaps perhaps but always so amazingly Casey.

And it hadn't happened- Casey had been gone by the time she had managed to fight her way back in. So despite not needing the comfort of that scenario anymore, she had achieved her life back to the extent that mattered after all, her mind had concocted a new one to satisfy the dent Casey had left regardless.

This time it was Casey wandering back into the precinct, green eyes flickering around, eyeing up her surroundings to see what had changed, only to find not much. Olivia jumping from her chair the same way Alex had imagined she would've done for her, stepping forward without hesitation, and although Casey would never cup the base of Olivia's skull like Alex would have, Olivia would cradle the sides of her arm just the same. Stabler would crack some joke about Casey returning from radio silence, but Casey would look just like an angel re-descending onto the world. And then Casey would look up to see Alex casually leaning on a desk or a railing or whatever Alex would find at that moment to lean on.

And then, that smile. Perhaps shyly, perhaps brightly, but exactly and always the way Alex needed her to.

She hadn't gotten her reunion, no.

Neither one of them.

Not what she had envisioned would come after, either. Selfishly, she thought perhaps she was just teased with the idea of repaying Casey for the night that woman had provided her with, comfort in the sense of tangled limbs and heavy kisses, and the fact she wasn't able to. Casey would've been nervous to return, but she would've regardless, unable to stay away, and Alex would've comforted her in her ability the same way Casey had nurtured her confidence in the trial through words and other uses for tongues and teeth and fingers. She felt robbed, even though she knew that was unfair.

She kept reminding herself that they had met once. One, singular night, and no matter how good that hook-up had felt that's what it was. The marshals hadn't let her say goodbye. Alex had despairingly refused to seek intimacy after that, not wanting to take another into her arms and allow them to call her a fake name so she could fake moan and try to forget she was in witness protection, but Casey living her truth was under no such obligation. Casey might not have wanted to sleep with her again, maybe not now that she'd be seeing her reoccurringly, and Alex would've been prepared to accept that, if only she had something to accept.

She had nothing to accept, because now when she heard Olivia call Casey's phone when cases were especially stressing the brunette out of sheer muscle memory, Novak's phone was disconnected. Olivia would stand in silence for a second, and Alex would stand a little ways away feeling equally discontented, despite the fact Olivia had a reason to miss her- a friendship forged through years- while Alex knew her for one night and apparently now would never see her again.

It was as though the alluring faux blonde was taunting her, no matter how unfair that thought was as it boiled over in Alex's brain. It was unfair to think lowly of Casey. Perhaps she had simply found an occupation she thought suited her more and wasn't keen on lodging her way back into a space where she'd need to reassert her presence when she had already found another set of walls to encompass her life.

And Alex focused on that, focused on work, focused on ending her useless engagement she had fallen into out of desperation to cling back into her real life, focused on trying to get rid of Jim Steele who apparently thought she actually cared about him.

"Hey, Liv, what's this notification on your phone?" Stabler said one day, though, while Alex and Olivia were discussing the grounds for a search warrant needed, and Olivia glanced over casually and then flicked her wrist dismissively.

"I'm bringing someone flowers," she said, as if it was unimportant.

"Holding out on me?" Alex interjected abruptly, and Olivia's brow furrowed immediately, and then she laughed nervously as if something had just occurred to her.

(A lightning bolt shot through Olivia's spine when she heard the echo of Casey's chuckle, when she had said those exact words to her before the flower delivery that had almost killed her, and she knew Alex could tell that she stiffened. It was the remnant of her fear she'd lose two of her favorite ADAs in the same way, bleeding out in front of her, sprawled out on the floor like lifeless dolls.)

Alex got the sense that Olivia had recognized something she had heard before, and bristled slightly. She assumed it wasn't Casey, but the part of her brain space that the faux blonde seemed to consume adamantly murmured to her that it was, that she was being compared, that she had to assert herself.

"Um-" Olivia blinked, looking awkwardly in Elliot's direction for an out, but he only raised an eyebrow, inadvertently backing Alex up.

"No, not for someone like that, just- it's the anniversary of when Casey buried her fiance, and..."

Fiance? Casey was engaged? Well- had been engaged? When had she gotten engaged, and when had it ended? Alex felt her chest rise with a shallow breath, trying to grapple in her spinning mind. No, Alex couldn't have been a rebound- that was a stupid conclusion, she wouldn't defile herself by even suggesting that internally. Casey had wanted her, just her, when they had slept together. The look in those green eyes, when they stared up at her adoringly, told her so.

"Oh, you still feel guilty about that?" Elliot popped open a soda can. Alex noted the way he said that seemed very Stabler-like, in the sense that it wasn't warm or cold, curious or detached, he just.. said things in a way that was hard to describe.

But now she was curious, too, after the initial internal struggle, about why Olivia would feel guilty about death in Casey's personal affairs- she would've assumed she'd find out if Olivia had been involved in a case where someone in Casey's life had been brutalized, so only hearing this now seemed odd. Olivia just pressed her lips into a thin line, flexing an eyebrow at Stabler who simply shrugged nonchalantly and raised the can to his lips.

"What do you feel guilty for, exactly?" Alex inquired, finally, after a second's pause.

"Nothing." Olivia pressed, and then with a mild sigh, "I snooped in Casey's desk and found something I shouldn’t have and proceeded to handle it badly because I was pissed this guy-" she pointed at Stabler- "almost went blind."

Some things never changed, and Olivia's inability to properly summarize cases or events that were no longer actively necessary was one of them- after she signed the final records, she was done with them, and Alex internally decided that was as good an explanation as one could get.

"But.. her fiance?"

"Was already dead. For a while. But still. I don't think she lives in New York anymore so I've been bringing his grave flowers on the anniversary of when she buried him because I don't know if she knew when he actually died, just so... because I feel like, someone should do it." Olivia finished lamely, and then decided she was done talking about that, and proceeded to jump back on the train of discussing the search warrant.

Casey didn't know exactly when her own fiance died? What the hell had happened? But Olivia seemed unwilling to pour information like Alex adamantly was trying to prompt her to, and Alex didn't want to push.

The monster in Alex's stomach purred with curiosity at the new mention, new tidbits of information Alex was snaking for daily life, and despite her attempts to settle it, she found herself returning to the precinct at the time Olivia's shift was over.

"I want to come with you," she said, and to Liv's raised brow she justified, "convicting my assassin was a good enough reason to have me indebted to her. I can't thank her, so I may as well just do this with you."

Olivia decided that was reason enough- it wasn't like she knew the guy, either- so they climbed into her car and started on the trip to the outskirts of the city where enough green was preserved to allow for the shade of trees to grace tombstones.

The cemetery was a recognized Catholic one, so greeting them when Olivia pulled over in a parking lot was a small chapel with an imposed, ornate roof. To the side of it was a small wooden building, quaint yet well-cared for, which sold flowers. Olivia moved immediately towards it, so Alex assumed this was probably where she'd been buying the flowers she provided Casey's dead fiance.

"I wonder if she broke off the engagement before or after he died," Olivia muttered to herself vaguely, her forehead creased as she tried to figure out the appropriate flower to select.

"Sunflowers- or yellow roses, something that symbolizes friendship," Alex suggested vaguely, her interest piqued by whatever Olivia meant- she didn't know the story, after all- but she knew better than to pry. It would feel like an intrusion if Benson didn't offer the information willingly, and it didn't seem like the brunette was planning on it.

They both selected a modest amount of stalks, paid accordingly, and then Alex let Olivia lead her in a direction until they came to a cross-shaped stone suspended in the ground with 'Charles 'Charlie' Kelly' chiseled into it. Beneath it, 'ad astra; he will be missed more than he knows'. To the stars, the first portion meant. Apparently, despite Olivia's implication that the engagement hadn't been a successful one regardless of Charlie's death, Casey still thought of him in the sky above her.

Olivia was apparently lost in thought, so Alex let her mind wander.

She shouldn't have come here, she decided, that was evident enough. She was uncomfortable and it felt like a violation for her to be offering respect, regardless of what her intentions behind it were. She didn't believe in the afterlife, so she was spared the idea of Casey Novak's dead almost-life-partner staring eerily at Casey Novak's lesbian one-night stand from the grave, but if Casey was religious maybe it was still some sort of misconduct she shouldn't have allowed herself. There was no reason for her to be hung up on Casey as she was, and this was a major overstep.

"She's really strong," Olivia said after some pause, "I guess I kept forgetting that when she was still working with us. To endure this, and then.."

Alex knew better than to push, and Olivia wasn't giving her an opening to pry, so her uncomfortablility mounted to a greater height as she swallowed and tried not to ask what Olivia was referring to.

Distraction- although, not as good a distraction as she wanted, but at least it was something to focus on, was a teenage boy with a large, sun-shield-covered cart dragging a large mass of flower arrangements down the isles of tombstones, reading nameplates and occasionally stopping to gently place a large bouquet down on the marble slab, checking off a name on his list before continuing.

Alex turned her head and decided to just watch him, instead, with his rather casual clothes- it seemed like he might've come here from school, perhaps he was related to whoever owned this place- and his cart traverse in a steady, respectful rhythm.

To her and Olivia's surprise, though, when his cart was nearing empty save for five large arrangements, he dragged it over to where they were standing. At least, Alex worried he was going to try to peddle, and she didn't know how to turn down a teenage boy selling flowers in a cemetery. Instead, he simply tipped his baseball cap respectfully in her direction, tugging one bouquet out of the bucket it had been placed in, impaling the stalks in a foam block, and then carefully arranging it next to Charlie's headstone, before proceeding to do the same with the other four.

"My regards," he said in an easy voice, glancing between their faces, before drawing a line through the final name and order summary in his list, before turning to leave.

Alex's eyes flickered over to the flower arrangement. It was careful, it was delicate, and it looked ridiculously expensive. Large, blood-red roses sprawling effortlessly in directions, easy symbols of love, of course- but then others, like the frequent dots of German chamomile peeking out beside them, jasmine, transvaal daisies, and many, many others.

Alex became acutely aware of her breathing as her sharp eyes flickered. The second bouquet was a blend of the flowers adorning the first and the third, similarly, the fourth bouquet was a combination of the third and the fifth. The attention-demanding red roses claimed the majority of visibility, but the smaller flowers that crept around them like soft kisses on a sleeping giant enraptured Alex's focus.

The first bouquet's secondary selection was primarily yellow, the same flowers Alex had earlier recommended for friendship. The third entertained pinks- carnations, and then whites, like daisies and gardenias. The fifth contained a different note, where the aforementioned German chamomile and jasmine formed a small ring around a singular blue chrysanthemum.

"Oh," Alex breathed, softly, under her breath, her voice not directed at Olivia- she didn't know why she was speaking out her revelation- "she's telling their love story."

Friendship, romance, attempted healing, and then suffering. Initially, Alex had assumed the flowers might've been from parents or siblings. No, this was most surely Casey's work. It made her sick to her stomach.

She turned in hast to the flower boy, who had started his trip back down the aisle, pacing over to him in long overconfident strides.

"Hey- pardon me, but- what are you doing, exactly?"

In usual teenage fashion, he flashed her an almost incredulous look, a tilt of the head that meant 'Can't you see, lady?' but under the way her features grew suddenly stern he relented.

"Sometimes when family members can't come to pay respects they call in flower arrangements to the graves." He answered her appropriately, although he now looked mildly wary. Alex wasn't sure if she should be proud of her ability to intimidate teenagers.

"Who ordered the flowers for Charles Kelly?" Alex's gaze flashed back to where she had been standing, where Olivia still stood looking at her with a confused expression.

"The wife, I think." He followed her gaze, "She asked for one of us to do it by hand, that arrangement. I helped. It costs more, normally our flower vendors pre-make bouquets."

Alex gritted her teeth, a muscle in her jaw growing rigid as a very very unethical idea formulated in her mind.

"Fifty bucks says you can give me the number she used to call?"

The boy's eyebrow raised sharply, and Alex winced, suddenly feeling stupidly vulnerable in her court clothes in a grassy lot surrounded by the evidence of grief of families she wasn't a part nor know to any degree, with no real purpose or justification for being there. Still, the monster in her stomach roared happily at the fact she felt closer to Casey than she had in months- prancing into her ribcage to make her heart pound before twisting and crawling its way back down. Casey had such a hold on her curiosity it was making her feel seasick.

"...what were you, Kelly's mistress?"

"Do not take that tone with me, young man." She reprimanded, a bit harsher than she initially attempted to, "Do you want the money, or not?"

"Yeah," he offered after less than a second's consideration, and Alex thanked the heavens for the recklessness of teenage boys, "let me go check our records."

Less than five minutes later, Alex was now short of a half-hundred dollars but had the number Casey had used to call the cemetery clutched tightly on a piece of scrap paper in her palm, a sinking feeling in her stomach and an unknowing albeit bewildered Olivia next to her. She refused to say anything about it, though, and Olivia didn't push, thank god.

She toyed with the scrap of paper until the ink it had been jotted down in smudged under her sweaty fingers and she hastily tucked it into her purse instead, a bristling, uncomfortable feeling in her veins as she felt the beast that was her feeling towards Novak rip through her bloodstream. Fuck, there's no way she could actually do this.

The phone began to ring the second she stepped back into her own apartment, after Olivia had dropped her off, and she had barely managed the elevator ride without pulling out her phone and calling the number immediately.

Internally, she felt like she was going to crack open like an egg with each long, unanswered ring. What has she expected? Casey wouldn't know who was calling- was Casey the type to pick up unknown calls? If she did pick up, what did Alex even want to say? Why was she calling?

Really- why was she calling?

"You have reached St. Raphael's Parish, this is Pastoral Assistant O'Neill speaking," came a young man's voice on the other end of the phone, and Alex inhaled sharply. A church? Casey had called via.. what?

"Hello," She said, her voice tinged with anxiety in a way that made her wince, "I was just calling to ask if there's a Casey Novak associated here in some way?"

"Yes, Ms. Novak currently assists our church's community center. Has she reached out to you about our program? Would you like to speak with her further?"

The monster in her stomach roared, crawling from her intestines to her esophagus and lodging itself there with a pleased hum, and Alex exhaled shakily. "No, that's okay. I...," she licked her suddenly dry lips, "I just met her recently, and wanted to inquire about the..." She needed some kind of excuse, something vague so this man wouldn't mention to Casey someone had called for her, "when confessions are... open."

Her voice sounded clumsy and awkward, but apparently, O'Neill found her stammering endearing because he quickly reassured her and explained how and when she'd be able to confess her sins. "It's never too late," he had implored, "to strive for reconciliation with God."

Strive for reconciliation. No, she was most definitely just striving for Casey. Maybe she actually did need to convert to some sort of religion if the feeling of Casey's lips on her pulse point had affected her to this degree.

When she looked up the church, though, pondering if she could make an excuse to drop by, its address was listed as in Rhode Island.

"I can't do this," she muttered to herself firmly, impulsively flinging her phone with her fingers into the wall, where it made a satisfying thumping sound and dropped to the floor. "This is so fucking stupid."

So she sat idly on the information she had. Olivia stopped calling the number she had now that it was pointless to attempt to do so, and Donnelly refrained from mentioning her again, and the echo of Casey's voice in the hallways in the back of her mind- a purely envisioned sound, because Alex had only walked through the walls of the precinct with her once- ceded.

Work was idle, and so too did her life become. When she caught herself pining over a woman who no longer existed in any space she was involved in she quietly tamped down the idea, agitating the monster, but the beast did eventually begin to shrink and give up, retreating only to the valley of her thighs where it snapped and nipped occasionally but was otherwise out of mind so long as she tended to it on the nights she lay alone in a cold bed with nothing else to occupy her mind.

It was weeks later when something happened to stir the creature straight back into her ribcage, howling and ravaging the insides of her flesh like a bitch in heat.

"There's a man out there assaulting cops, and you- what, Alex? You aren't going to do anything?"

They were fighting in Cragen’s office, a scenario that had happened many times previously, but Alex always hated it, because not only did she need to verbally hold off Olivia but she could feel the blistering, scrutinizing stares of Elliot and the Captain in her pale skin.

"We don't have enough evidence for me to charge him with anything yet!" She snapped. She knew this was personal for Olivia- of course it was- but she knew better than to leap headstrong into something that would get thrown out in court.

"Then tell me what I'm supposed to find!" Olivia raged back, taking a step closer, and Alex bristled in response.

"Literally anything that would solidify your theory-!" Alex tried to barter, taking a step forward too with her palms extended outward as if asking Olivia to give her something, anything, to prove this case. Didn't Olivia understand through all these years that Alex was just as desperate to lock deranged men behind bars as she was? But it always became too narrow-sighted for Olivia to see, apparently, because she just made an awkward growling sound.

"We have his blood-"

"The sample was too tainted to get anything out of it, you know that already, Olivia, be reasonable-"

"Maybe I'm sick of you being reasonable!" Olivia fired, and Alex snarled under her breath. Alright, a personal challenge was thrown, but Olivia apparently wasn't done talking.

"Casey got fucking suspended trying to protect her own and you aren't raising a finger to help us-"

The blonde’s gaze averted quickly, flashing the captain a cold, harsh stare. Reign in your detectives, it said, this type of disrespect is not something I tolerate. Despite that, she bristled at the look she got in return, and the quiet snarl emanating from Stabler.

Alex turned on her heel and focused on the clipped tapping of her heels against the dirty marble floor as she stormed away, flicking her wrist in Olivia's direction as if shutting her up, which it didn't manage to do. Exiting an argument so abruptly was ungodly unprofessional, she knew that, but God she was going to slap her if she stayed.

"Her conviction rate was higher than yours, and she took less to court." Olivia's cold voice shot out behind her and Alex froze in her retreat, "She wouldn't be scared of this."

Alex believed the monster in her anatomy had just now effectively torn her heart apart, her mind a hailstorm of cold fury, and her exit was emphasized when she slammed the door behind her. Fuck that. Fuck this. Casey was not better than her, Casey was a fucking coward who was hiding in a church for some fucking reason.

And that's why, despite it being an active workday, she was in her car gripping the steering wheel so tightly the logical portion of her brain tried to warn her she was either going to snap it clean off or break a tendon in her fingers, driving to the address she had searched once again for St. Raphael's Parish.

It took a little over three hours.

She drove in utter, complete silence, breaking her demented glare from the road only once to turn her phone on Do Not Disturb when Olivia's apology text and call came about an hour or so into the drive.

The beast inside her grew two heads- one bickering and twisting her liver, demanding her to reassert her control over her life- HER life- feeling as though some expectation, whether it be the loss of her own ideal without Casey's presence or the expectations of the people she thought should comprehend her success were comparing her to a woman turning tail, were unfair to a degree which appropriated this kind of fury. The other writhed in anguish, needy and headstrong with the ideality of some reunion with Casey bringing her some sort of end to this internal torment. She gripped the steering wheel harder. Something in her wrist cramped.

The church was old, and utterly captivating in aesthetics. A testament to an era long since past, towering spires that shot straight up to scratch the underbelly of the heavens loomed over the blonde ADA as she exited her car, feeling mildly dwarfed. The exterior was a dark, reddish-hued brick, lined with sculptures of angelic figures or intricate creatures imbedded in the sides of the wall, but if Alex squinted it was almost as if they were moving, telling stories of lessons long ago taught. The garden in front was equally mesmerizing, shaped hedges and rows of neatly planted white flowers emphasizing the cobblestone path that led one up to the steps, directing any who may inspect the exterior of the church towards elephantine mahogany doors. As if to further call attention to the entryway, above the arched door was a circular window, stained glass in faded yet alluring colors depicted an angel with open arms, ever waiting to look down welcomingly up on those who may enter.

The weight of being in the presence of a building so magnificent while in such a blind rage seemed ironic to Alex, who was not there to admire or confess but rather seek out a woman she was still not entirely sure which particular emotion she felt about.

Regardless, with tentative, clipped steps, she began to advance on the pathway, eyes flickering about in a mild degree of awe.

The interior of the church was simultaneously obviously modernized and still held the lingering charm only buildings decades old could muster. The smell of candles and books- rather like a library, almost, except accompanied by wisps of elegant perfumes and whatnot- greeted Alex as she inhaled sharply, eyes landing on the polished wooden desk, in which a man was perched waiting.

"Excuse me," she began tentatively, greeted with a broad, warm smile she inwardly immediately felt as though she did not deserve, "I heard there was a recreational center associated with this church?"

"Ah, yes, our harbor for community." He nodded wisely, "Are you looking to involve yourself in the activities? I can provide you with pamphlets, or talk you through the application process to become a volunteer."

"I'd be very grateful for a pamphlet," Alex murmured awkwardly, and the man immediately handed her a small laminated paper booklet that he had seemed to materialize out of thin air.

"If you'd like to observe, you may continue out this door on the side, and follow the signs." He nodded, "We do have guards who may ask to inspect your purse, but otherwise you should be free to explore. We abide by the principles of vulnerability, and openness, and our set-up is as such."

"Thank you," she excused herself, beginning out the door he had gestured at and finding elegant posts directing visitors of the church to different areas. A community garden, a playground, and a small donation center were all directed towards, but she found the pathway towards a large wooden building a small ways away and began walking towards that instead, after finding the designated sign for 'community center' in an elegant, bold font.

She had realized, of course, that she was in a significantly less population-dense area than all the cities she had ever been accustomed to, but this church's emphasis on community still caught her off guard. Perhaps less heinous crimes would be committed in her own city if people cared about each other to this extent, she pondered, flipping through the pamphlet as she walked.

Part of her initial aversion to the place faded as a curiosity overtook her, a desire to investigate momentarily lapsing her anger and her twisted emotion, and although the monster in the ribs did not relent in its pursuit of a faux blonde it seemed content to settle while she aquatinted herself with new surroundings.

There were sections for activities, such as fundraisers, clubs, and tutoring, classes on family nurturing and homemaking, and sections for group therapies for various issues. Alex skimmed them all, pausing her fast-flickering eyes at the appearance of every name that was mentioned, but Casey's didn't surface until she found a 'new additions' portion in the back of the pamphlet with detailed courses that had been recently established to promote education in middle and high-school aged youth. Novak's name had been mentioned as a primary tutor for the foundation of a Model United Nations, for kids in range fourteen to seventeen.

So this is what Casey was doing- using her understanding of the law and more specifically politics and persuasion to teach children about international communications? Alex felt a stir of guilt in her stomach- not because of her earlier accusation of Casey being a coward, no, but rather at how the first thought in her mind was that it was a shame to see Casey's brilliance being squandered. Other people could do this task. If Casey was supposedly better than Alex, she should be doing something that demonstrated that prowess, not.. this.

Bitterly, Alex thought to herself not only was her assessment wildly unfair, but at the very least she should be happy Casey was in fact wasting her ability because that meant her own status would not be overshadowed by a fierce competitor. Perhaps Casey would've been in line for promotion, perhaps in the three years she had lost from her suspension she would've climbed ranks to a standing Alex wouldn't have been able to compete with. But no, she had gotten suspended, and now she was here- teaching children about the realm in which her presence was utterly lacking.

She was being unfair, really. Aiding developing minds was a noble pursuit. Alex should not be so critical. And she shouldn't be jealous, either, but she was. The monster stirred idly.

The center was bustling with activity despite it being a workday- Alex realized only when she got in that it was long past the end of school hours, the drive having consumed hours of her time, and thus children were tussling about.

The 'set-up' to which the parish receptionist had referred too was evident- the building was set up as one large room, despite it being two stories, with bookshelves as dividers between sections and glass for walls for the few places there were actual rooms. Large oak tables and metal chairs with plastic seats and backrests were scattered in a way that felt comfortable and almost overtly so, despite the fact it's obvious mild renovations were still undergoing. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad place for Casey after all, Alex thought rather sadly. It was comparable to the DA's office in the aura it emoted, the gnawing sense that something was happening, but with the hushed tones of students encouraging each other while studying or distracting each other loudly with entertainment or laughter, it felt warm in a way Alex was made slightly uncomfortable by. The stark luxury of the DA's office was also starkly missing- this place, interesting as it was, was certainly not comparable to the magnificent church outside or even Alex's place of occupation.

The pamphlet had said which section it was occurring in, and with clumsy direction and suddenly less conviction Alex found her way over there. The designated time had not started, but apparently schoolchildren were already making use of the room, milling about and chatting with each other.

Long, thin rectangular tables had been utilized to form a mock- courtyard, in a sense, forming a square in which all participants could see each other easily. At the head of the rectangle and different type of table was utilized the signal the chair's designation, as well as a rolly chair instead of the plastic ones the rest of the tables were accompanied by. Alex snorted at the resourcefulness, although it could also easily be simply the fact they didn't have enough of the same type of table.

"Can I help you, Miss?" A young girl with dramatically red hair and freckles piped up after a few of her friends had laid eyes on Alex with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. If this was intended for students aged thirteen to seventeen, she was more certainly on the absolute youngest side of the spectrum.

"Casey Novak teaches here, doesn't she?"

"Miss Casey isn't here right now," the girl responded, answering two of her questions- yes, she did teach, but no, she wasn't currently in the building. Or perhaps she was somewhere in the building, and this girl simply was not aware.

"Did you need something?" One of the older kids- a tall, lanky teenage boy, strolled forward, interrupting her attempted exchange with the smaller girl. So the children are protective of their own, evidently, either that or she was intriguing enough in her pristine court clothing and tall heels to pique the curiosity of another child who wanted to catch her attention instead.

"I'm a friend of Novak's," Alex began, rather self-importantly, and the lie felt strangely easy on her tongue- with how often she thought about Casey, it felt natural to say, but no, the two were not friends. "I heard she started teaching you all about international communications and wanted to see how it worked."

The boy shrugged, "I guess it's okay if you watch. We're not in session for another hour and a half, though. Come back later."

Something about this boy's tone was resurfacing the resentment stirring in her chest. She didn't particularly enjoy talking to older teens- younger children were sweet and naive and she sometimes felt the urge to protect them, but kids like this she wasn't particularly fond of interacting with. And he was trying to send her away? Shouldn't he know to respect his elders?

"What are you all doing here then, if a session doesn't start for so long?"

The little girl who was still eyeing her up suddenly glared at her, a sudden switch from the wary intrigue she had previously been exhibiting, and the boy's face flickering with some amount of distaste- perhaps the question had made him uncomfortable, somehow.

"Did Miss Casey invite you here?" The elder boy said, drawing attention from a few other children, and Alex felt suddenly a prickle of irritation down the length of her spine at his questioning. No, Casey hadn't, but she couldn't really explain that.

"I was a colleague of hers, back when we were both working for the district attorney of New York." A half-truth- yes, while Alex was SVU's ADA before her stint in witness protection, Casey had technically also been working for white collar, so they did in a ways work together, except they hadn't known each other then. "I wanted to come observe you all to see if her efforts were paying off."

She kept it lighthearted as if she were jesting, but she knew this boy wasn't stupid enough to not catch the subtle undertone of challenge her voice included- although the girl behind him was, who become rather intrigued by the idea of her tutor's past.

"Then how about I set up a little mock debate," the boy rose to her challenge suddenly, "and you can see exactly the lengths that her efforts have gone."

He extended a hand to her for a formal handshake, his voice firmly introducing himself as "Eric Conner, Chair of the Economics and Social Council."

"Alexandra Cabot, Assistant District Attorney to the Manhattan District," Alex responded coldly, shaking his hand with a firm grip that he returned. While his title was honorable as far as their play went, it was still only a piece of this mock debate, and Alex's title was real. The tone in her voice drove that point home.

She wasn't entirely sure why she was so irked by these kids, but as Eric Conner began assembling a few willing participants for a smaller version of a proper MUN debate, the beast gnawed idly at her ribcage.

Alex became particularly sure she did not want these kids to succeed in their debate against her. She initially hadn't been sure if Conner was setting up a mock debate for her to observe or to be involved in, but when he handed her a placard that said 'United States of America' and pointed her to a plastic chair, it became evident he did expect her to be a participant, and she riled slightly. These kids winning any sort of leverage was evidence that Casey had done better. This was noble work, nurturing the minds of the parish youth, and perhaps something in a moral sense that outweighed her own efforts in the law. If she didn't beat these children up in the oncoming verbal spar, it was almost as though she was letting Casey be better than her.

The second head of her monster groaned and creaked, nipping at her lung while the other remained vested in biting at her ribs. This was wrong. She was a bit past caring in her blind anger.

The debate began quickly. Eric Conner was the chair presiding, the little girl who had both glared and stared at her with different twisting emotions served as Germany, and other children of various ages represented other delegations from around the world.

"The Economic and Social Council is now in session," Conner began, straightening his spine and flicking his eyes down a few sheets of paper he had assembled before him- a script, perhaps, notes. Alex thought in the back of her head that that was sweet in a patronizing sort of way. "The agenda for today is ‘Reducing Economic Inequality Through Global Tax Reforms.’ Delegates are reminded to maintain decorum and adhere to the rules of procedure."

"We will begin with opening statements. Each delegate will have one minute to state their country’s position. The delegate of Brazil is recognized."

A girl- older by years than the one who Alex had initially engaged with, stood, a laptop clutched in her hands.

"Thank you, Chair," she began, hesitation evident in the quiver of her voice- her eyes flickered to Alex specifically, finding the intrusion of a much older, much wiser woman intimidating. She schooled herself out of it quickly, though, and Alex wondered bitterly if that was through some method Novak had taught her.

She could imagine Casey's sharp voice softening, taking on a motherly tone as she sat beside this sixteen-year-old, pointing out flaws and statements that wouldn't hold water with precision, and then turning to her reassuring her of her budding prowess. The girl must have been scared of public speaking, everyone was, and Casey probably taught her how to slow her racing heart and formulate words to drive her point into the skulls of her opponents the same way Casey had taught herself to do in open court. It made Alex angry, that thought. That reassurance Casey probably offered to this girl had been used on her in Casey's office all those years ago, and she now felt territorial, or at the very least upset at her own imagination.

"Brazil believes that economic inequality cannot be effectively addressed without tackling the exploitation of tax havens and corporate tax evasion. Multinational corporations siphon billions from developing nations ... " The teen kept talking, but Alex wasn't entirely listening. "Brazil proposes a binding global minimum corporate tax rate and stricter international cooperation to prevent such practices. This is not just an economic issue—it’s a moral imperative. I yield my time."

The debate proceeded with various other countries providing opening statements, but Alex just crossed one leg over the other in her lap, staring around at the children speaking with a mild degree of interest. She didn't feel as though she particularly had to pay attention other than to the storm cloud forming in her mind as her imagination helpfully provided her with images of Casey teaching, Casey smiling, Casey laughing in a way that felt like a taunt directed solely at her.

"The council will now debate the proposed amendment to the resolution, which adds the clause: ‘Member states failing to comply with the global minimum corporate tax rate shall face economic sanctions coordinated by a multilateral oversight body.’"

This part piqued Alex's interest, and she raised her placard with a flick of her wrist to indicate she had decided to finally become an actual participant in the mock debate they had started for her sake.

"The delegate of the United States has the floor," Conner said warily, his eyes flickering to the gaze of his peers.

"Thank you, Chair," Alex started firmly in a voice that wasn't very grateful, pushing her chair back to stand in the fashion the other students had exhibited, towering over the shorter, younger individuals.

"The United States strongly opposes this amendment. Sanctions are a dangerous and counterproductive approach. They punish populations, destabilize economies, and create hostility among nations. Instead, the United States proposes a more effective alternative: a multilateral compliance fund to support nations in meeting global tax standards and reputational penalties for violators. Let us build consensus rather than force compliance through coercion. I yield my time."

Conner eyed her, biting the inside of his cheek, and then glanced around to see which placards had been raised for a response- two girls, sitting side by side, who appeared to be twins caught his eye and he nodded towards them.

"The delegate of France is recognized."

"Thank you, Chair. France supports this amendment." A direct opponent to the stance Alex had taken, then. "The United States’ alternative lacks teeth," - oh, so she knew how to argue, too - "Without enforceable mechanisms, this resolution will fail to create meaningful change." Alex bristled, not by the fact she was being debated, but rather by the way this girl wasn't fumbling at all- and how internally that registered to Alex as this girl must have been under a plethora of lessons and reassurances from the faux blonde woman Alex had drove nearly four hours to chase.

Despite herself, her hand formed a small fist in her lap, fingernails digging into her palm as her brain forced the mental imagery of Casey's hand on this girl's shoulder as she discussed how to present an argument. Casey's hand- the lithe fingers that had been in Alex's mouth those years ago. It was a ridiculously unfair thought to have, but Alex was starting to realize everything she was doing was unfair, and that just pent her frustration up to an even higher degree.

"The U.S. talks about cooperation, but cooperation without accountability is meaningless. Sanctions are a necessary deterrent for nations and corporations that refuse to comply. I yield back."

Without accountability? And yet her tutor was the one failing to take any sort of accountability, fleeing to Rhode Island and disconnecting her old number, not a word to her friends.

Alex wanted to respond, but the chair had already recognized the girl's partner, the other half of the identical twins, who was representing Kenya.

"Thank you, Chair. Kenya echoes France’s concerns. The United States’ proposal for a compliance fund is insufficient. Developing nations lose billions annually to tax evasion by corporations headquartered in wealthier countries. Sanctions are a tool to level the playing field. We need action, not more rhetoric. I yield back."

It was somewhat of an empty statement, peppered with jabs at Alex's argument but made solely to back up the other girl, and they exchanged brief, conspiratorial smiles with each other. The sight of which softened Alex's anger slightly, replacing it with a twinge of guilt.

She shook it off quickly, though. Yes, these children were better at debate than she had initially summed them up to be, but asserting herself as a force more powerful than Casey was the reason why she was here. The chair allowed her to make a rebuttal, and so fixed the delegate of France- the stronger of the two- with a firm stare, the way she may look at a defense counsel, and the girl shrank slightly.

"Thank you, Chair. Let’s be clear: the rhetoric here is coming from France and Kenya." Both girls looked mildly conflicted, exchanging another small glance through lowered eyes at each other. Casey, evidently, hadn't taught them to master a poker face yet.

"They advocate sanctions without considering the collateral damage they inflict on vulnerable populations. The U.S. is offering a practical alternative that addresses non-compliance without harming the global economy. Sanctions don’t ‘level the playing field’;", despite herself, she made air quotes, an unprofessional taunt slipping through her facade as she watched the girls avert their gazes, "They create chaos. If this council is serious about reducing inequality, it must adopt solutions that promote cooperation—not punishment. I yield my time."

A round, brawler of a boy raised a placard, and the chair allowed him to respond to Alex's statement. His eyes were cold and hard, although a muscle in his temple was twitching, and his eyes moved a bit too hastily from the chair to meet Alex's eyes. He was trying to prove something by standing up to the fully grown esteemed woman biding her time arguing with school children.

"Thank you, Chair," he took an inhale Alex assumed Casey had taught him to take, "India finds the United States' proposal inadequate. Sanctions are not ideal, but they are necessary. Without strong enforcement, how will this council ensure compliance? The U.S. calls for cooperation, but corporations will continue exploiting loopholes unless there are consequences. I yield back."

Alex ran her tongue along the sharp edges of her teeth, glancing at the chair, who inhaled rather sharply and then defeatedly allowed her to respond.

"Thank you, Chair. The delegation of India asks how compliance will be ensured—here’s how:"

The boy had just presented her with the perfect window of opportunity to win, and she was fully aware of that, despite him apparently not recognizing that.

This was an unbalanced debate from the start- several delegates were immediately biased as to not allow Alex ground to stand on, seeing her intrusion as a threat (which, she supposed, was not an unfair assessment, she had decided to participate for nothing else but to put herself above the imagination-Casey in her brain). The children who weren't biased, though, ones who were genuinely trying to utilize her presence as a means to engage in better and more fruitful debate, would now listen to the epitome of her persuasion.

"Through global cooperation, economic incentives, and transparency. Let’s create a compliance framework that offers support for struggling nations, publicizes violators, and uses targeted measures like trade restrictions when absolutely necessary." She extended her hands outward, a contrast to the students all of whom had stood up with a laptop or a page of notes, her free hands being used as a tool to provide a fake open gesture while she fixed each child one by one with a rigid, ambitious stare. "Blanket sanctions hurt everyone and undermine trust. The United States invites this council to embrace a solution that fosters progress, not division."

She took an extra second to exhale, raising a brow pointedly at the Chair, who grimaced as he watched the debate spirit in several of his peers diminish. "I yield back."

It was silent for a long second after that, the fight in the majority of younger kids' eyes fading out and the knowledge they wouldn't be able to argue for much longer when Alex presented her true legal prowess like this budding resentment and resignation in several of the older children's eyes.

Alex slung one leg over the other in her chair, raising her eyebrows and scanning faces to see who her next adversary would be, except no one presented themselves for a response.

Slowly, the small girl Alex had first been speaking to raised her placard, and when Conner allowed her to speak she stood up with a shake in her little legs and a quiver to her bottom lip. Alex internally grappled with her sense of morality in the face of the knowledge she was verbally brutalizing these children's debate.

"Thank you, Chair. Germany commends the United States for its leadership in offering a balanced alternative. Sanctions should always be a last resort. Germany supports the U.S. proposal to establish-"

"Are you having a fun time bullying children, Cabot?"

At the sound of the low, raspy voice, golden honey coating sandpaper, every head in the room snapped to the entrance, where an expressionless Casey Novak stood, leaning against the doorway idly.

"Miss Novak!" a hushed murmur from some child Alex was not paying attention to, the end of small idle side conversations or undirected attention as Casey Novak commanded full authority over the focus in the room.

She looked tall in her heels, imposing in her own right, hair still dyed blonde, although she had ended her attempt to make it look like Alex's- it was a reddish, earthy color, landing between blonde highlights, brown hair, and the natural reddish tint that she seemed could never stray away from. She looked older, perhaps more tired, but simultaneously was glowing with the same energy that used to bring courtrooms bending down to her heels. Her coat was draped over her arm, cold green eyes like chrome tourmaline fixing on Alex's frame like a..., like something indescribable to the blonde, or perhaps her mind had simply short-circuited in her presence and thus wasn't able to muster up anything useful.

Unlike in her obsessive daydreams, Casey was not adorned in court clothing. The blazers and blouses Alex had assumed would be Casey's wardrobe before Casey had departed from legal occupation were missing, rather replaced by a woven cardigan with a turtleneck feature, blooming sleeves, and a taper around her waist to emphasize the high-waisted nature of her slacks. She looked like nothing Alex had imagined, Alex had visualized different clothes, different hair, different settings, and different emotions but one look at Novak's face allowed Alex to register that despite the stark disparity from her fantasy Casey was everything she wanted.

Casey did not smile- Alex supposed she had no reason to. She had no reason to indulge Alex in the obsessive ideal she did not realize existed.

Feeling awfully like a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar, Alex tried to return Casey's sharp gaze, but the faux blonde's eyes rested on her for a meager fraction of a second before instead softening to scroll over the faces of her students.

The small girl representing Germany left her post at the table immediately to fumble over to Casey, looking up at her for some reassurance, which the woman was pleased to offer her in full. Casey half-crouched down, her hands finding the younger girl's shoulders and squeezing softly before her eyes flicked up to Eric Conner's in a silent questioning. He shook his head slightly and Casey's brow twitched, but she sighed and didn't force the silent matter further.

A couple of other kids, although not straight up leaving the table, softened their eyes and sought approval from the former attorney, and she graced each one of them with the charity of her attention for a moment, offering a soft smile to some of the more anxious kids and a solid, firm nod to the ones who simply needed to know they had done okay.

Alex felt humiliated.

The monster that had divulged itself in her ribcage clawed and tore its way up through her neck into her skull, ripping apart internal flesh as it grew in size. Casey was right in front of her now- Alex hadn't realized she had risen to her feet until she was standing- and she was ignoring her fully, not granting her the acknowledgment Alex had come here to seek out. The children could see the sudden flush on her high cheekbones, but she couldn't control it, the feeling of claws on the inside of her face as her cheeks burned warm, breeding an overwhelming sense of irritation and wild discomfort.

Pay attention to me, she tried to tell Casey with her body language, the stiffness of her shoulders only increasing as her brow furrowed, head tilting downwards with childlike shame.

One head of the twisted beast behind her eyes cooed softly, longingly, I'm the one you're supposed to be comforting. I'm the one who needs you more than these kids do. The other snarled, latching into her nose and forcing a sharp exhale. I hate you. I'm better than you. How dare you avert your gaze from my direction. Pay attention to me.

Casey did not indulge her with that request for what felt like hours, although in all likelihood it was probably only a few seconds until the faux blonde turned to her, sighed, arched a brow, and gestured vaguely to the children as a signal for them to return to their own activities.

"Alright, Cabot. You had some reason for showing up- what do you want?"

You.

"Is there somewhere more private that we could have this discussion in?" Alex said instead of the growl that filled her throat, and with another sigh as if Alex was forcing her to pay taxes Casey turned on her heel, flicking her fingers in a 'come hither' motion and setting off.

Feeling awfully like a snarling dog being towed by a patient owner, Alex followed closely at Casey's heel, as they walked towards the front of the community center and then, to her surprise, out of it.

"They gave me an office," Casey muttered as if reading Alex's mind, "in the chapel."

"Oh-?" Alex tilted her head, blonde hair spilling over her shoulder, although Casey couldn't see that from how she was adamantly setting her gaze straight forward, refusing to turn and meet the blue eyes so fervently drilling holes in the back of her skull. "That seems.." As though she was revered, to some degree.

"It used to be a storage closet." Casey cut that thought in the bud bitterly, "So don't get your hopes up."

Despite it apparently having been a storage closet, Casey's office, albeit small and clearly having been burdened by the weight of time, was sweet.

Alex hadn't set foot in the chapel's large body, but behind it was another large section for administrative care, towering bookshelves, and a few parish assistants on computers or with large leather-bound books reviewing or editing whatever allowed the service to run smoothly. They looked at Casey with warm familiarity, and at her with mild confusion. This was Casey's space, not her's. Casey's makeshift office was up a small flight of insanely narrow and high stairs, on a hallway in which her door was stapled at the end as if an afterthought to make use of extra space.

The wooden walls had been revarnished sometimes recently, but scuff marks on the walls and floors lingered as evidence that something heavy like shelves had been removed from the space, indents of objects that had been removed to make way for Casey. It was a very small space indeed, barely measuring eight by six feet, and the traces of cleaning products hung in the air as a testament to the previous use.

Despite that, though, it felt warm. An old wooden desk had been pushed to the center of it, with a comfortable chair, and a small laptop Alex assumed Casey must've provided herself on the desk sitting next to an intricate antique lamp that cast a low, dim glow. The only other light source in the room was a high, narrow window made of stained glass- it must've been installed for the benefit of people looking from outside, though, because it cast odd-colored shadows on the floor, making her feel vaguely as though she was inside of a kaleidoscope.

Pressed against the wall was a bookshelf, filled with stacks of papers and binders, prayer books, and little knick-knacks like ceramic jars and little porcelain statues of holy figures. Other than this bookshelf, a heavily used dark burgundy rug on the floor, and the aforementioned desk and chair, the space was unfurnished. No memorabilia or evidence of Casey herself resided here, with the only exception being perhaps the laptop if it was in fact hers.

"Quaint," Alex tried to comment, but Casey simply snorted dismissively, finally turning around to face her. The faux blonde rested herself on the edge of her desk, her hands gripping the side of the wood as if to find some kind of stability in it, and despite now looking at Alex it seemed like her gaze was simply in her direction and her mind was somewhere else. She wasn't looking at her the way Alex wanted her to

"You've got nerve, I'll give you that much." Casey muttered, "I'll do you a favor by not asking how you found me- but really, why the hell are you here?"

"You disconnected your number," Alex said instead, taking a deep closer, avoiding the question simply because there was no coherent answer she could offer her.

And she didn't have enough brain space to come up with any sort of lie either, because the monster was ramming itself around against the confines of her skull like an impending migraine, desperate to escape to sink its teeth into Casey's throat the way Alex had done all those years ago on the couch in Casey's space within the DA's office.

"Olivia told me she had the end of my suspension marked on her calendar in a voice message she left me," Casey mused as Alex took another small step closer, almost predatorial, "I couldn't stand it anymore. Threw my phone out the car window."

"So you just left the rest of us to wonder?" Alex barked, harshly. "Couldn't spare at least something to let us know you were fine? Olivia's worried about you."

"She'll figure that out," Casey retorted dryly, crossing her arms. "Why are you here, Alex? What do you want?"

"Why didn't you come back?" Alex asked, again dodging, sidling even closer until she was a foot away from Casey against the edge of her desk, her neck bowed so she could look up at her accusingly.

"Why the hell would I?" Casey snorted, "It was obvious to everyone else I wasn't cut out to be an attorney- I could only fool myself for that long."

What? Alex felt her stomach twist at that. Casey... She had been so fixated on the vision of Casey taunting, Casey realizing she was beyond Alex's prowess and getting off on the thrill of superiority the way Alex herself used to. It felt like a startling revelation to hear such words of self-loathing leave the faux blonde's lips, the disgusted look in her jade eyes.

Instead of softening, though, Alex felt herself becoming more rigid, more furious. How dare Casey speak in front of her like that, when she must know deep down she had achieved greater. What sort of game did she think she was playing? Sulking had been fine for the years of her suspension but that was now over and it sounded somehow mocking, somehow twistedly defiant to hear Casey degrade herself still.

"So what?" Alex snapped, "You're just going to start working for a church in Rhode Island and forget the rest of us ever existed?" Unfair, she thought to herself, raising her voice like this was unfair.

Casey snorted for a second time, blushed anger settling on her cheeks. "I don't even work here!- I'm a volunteer they gave an office because they know I have nothing better to do."

"So you're living with your parents?" Alex felt the top of her lip curl up slightly with disgust, but Casey quickly silenced her with, "Boyfriend."

Alex froze, an invisible force dragging her a half-step backward, and she felt her shoulders and spine straighten in cold registration. The woman who had laid beneath her now had coupled with someone else, someone Alex did not and probably would never know. A life had been made here in Rhode Island, the tangible evidence being this romance, and Alex was in no way part of it.

Earlier, weeks before, she had known she might've needed to acknowledge the idea that Casey would've found a partner in the time the two hadn't seen each other, and she had told herself that she would accept that if faced with it.

She could not face this, however. She couldn't accept it.

Casey enveloped too much of her brain for her to back off now, not when she was right here, not when she was staring at her so truculently. Alex felt a growl build in the back of her throat that she only managed to control by instead muttering in a low, biting tone.

"Do you love him?"

"I'm supposed to, aren't I?" Casey chuckled wryly, her response more genuine than she expected, being caught off guard by her revelation. She averted her gaze once more, staring out at the stained glass window blankly. "I'm supposed to be a devout Catholic, and I refuse to be a failure on every front there is."

As she spoke, her fingers traced lower to toy with the front of her sweater, the pads of her fingertips trailing along the fabric above the layers of skin and muscle tissue that shielded her womb.

She was a Catholic woman, and Catholic women were expected to settle down with a man, avoid the strain of the workplace, and bear children.

Alex felt as though she may throw up from the bitter taste that exploded in her mouth, a slight undertone of panic filling her eyes. Casey had made it obvious earlier that children- not even her children, just the children of the parish, were a higher priority to her than Alex was. Her own child? Alex could never compete with that, not that she particularly even wanted to as a twinge of guilt, a taste of regret consumed her senses. She wasn't supposed to be here, she suddenly felt the need to flee.

"Are you-, Casey?" She dared not ask, but the words came out of her mouth regardless.

"No,” she sighed, and then added, “Not for lack of trying."

The faux blonde before her seemed frustrated by that, but more so defeated. She continued to avoid Alex's eyes, and with a slow exhale Alex realized the familiar expression in Casey's face- she recognized it from how it had looked on her in the mirror.

Throwing herself into arms that would hold her, her life ripped out of her hands- literally- in a new place in a home that didn't feel at all like hers. Accepting a man who had done nothing more than smile at her in the right way as a partner, trying to act as though she knew how to keep living after something had destroyed her sense of normalcy.

"How dare you," Alex bared her teeth, anger from her realization cutting through the regretful feeling and smashing it to bits. No, she did not feel bad for Casey anymore. She felt ethereal fury and adrenaline pounding her veins, the monster exploding against the confines of her skin instead.

She stalked closer, her hands suddenly finding purchase on Casey's hips to push her until she was sitting on the edge of her desk, Alex towering over her as Casey's thighs bracketed her legs. Casey looked as though she wanted to retort something, but the look that flashed with intensity in Alex's cold blue eyes caused her to hesitate, a flicker of bewilderment in her gaze instead.

"How dare you sit here and act as though you're this pitiful wreck of a woman when we both know full well you're not?"

"What the hell are you-" Casey tried to protest, but with an animalistic snarl from Alex's throat, she shut up quickly.

"Your conviction rate was higher than MINE." The blonde raged, her hands gripping the ridge of Casey's hips so tightly it must be bruising, it must hurt, but Novak did not fight her. "Even years later everyone still talks about the infamous fireball of Casey Novak, and what? This is what you're doing instead?"

"Alex-?" Her voice came out of a gasp, that feminine rasp that made Alex feel obsessively territorial. The idea that a man trying to breed her had heard this made Alex grip her that much tighter. She wanted to bite down so desperately, but she couldn't tell the woman off if her mouth was full of Casey's skin.

"How dare you sit here idling and letting someone you don't love hold you when you have people who care so much it- it feels-" she cut herself off and Casey inhaled sharply.

(It registered to Casey, only just now, the possibility that Alex had come here for her. All these years, she had assumed simply that Alex had pressed languished, open-mouthed kisses down her sternum as a means to an end, a distraction from the trauma she was going through, Casey's body a way to seek diversion from the ongoing anxiety. Casey had been more than willing to indulge her in this, but never for a moment had she considered that it was in any way possible or realistic that Alex had wanted anything other than that single night from her. That Alex might feel the strange sensation of longing the way she did, the undercurrent of wondering she was burned by as she thought about the blonde who felt so far away.)

Alex continued, then, "With people who care about you living in fucking New York still hoping you come back?" Alex's anger made her borderline incoherent, hissing and stumbling over her words, drawing her face ridiculously close to Casey's, so close she could feel the faux blonde's desperate exhale against her skin.

She was then interrupted as a phone from Casey's back pocket went off, releasing her hold on Casey's hips to pull back slightly, snapped out of the momentary loss of control before deciding, no, fuck it, she was gone, lost in her obsession, and that's how it would be for now.

Without waiting for Casey, who looked dazed and almost contemplative, Alex ripped the phone out of the pocket of her slacks, reading the name 'Vincent Doyle' on the screen.

Alex raised a single, pointed brow at Casey, her thumb hovering over the screen, the hand not holding the phone pressing against Casey's chest as to block her if she tried to move for her phone, which Novak did not even attempt to do.

"Is this him?"

The wordless look in Casey's eyes was all the answer she needed, and Alex picked up the phone.

"Sugar, I know you're with those kids, but can you-" A voice like churning gravel thrummed over the phone, and Alex imagined a broad-shouldered man with an unshaven beard, hair a bit too long to look proper in casual clothing because he didn't own anything else. The clicking of keys sounded in the background and Cabot could envision him typing in an office, trying to persuade his girlfriend to do something, his phone held by the junction of his shoulder as he didn't stop typing to talk to who he incorrectly thought was his woman. Alex grappled with her sense of superiority against the comparison of Casey, but no, she was definitely better than this one.

"She's breaking up with you," Alex said flatly, her voice devoid of emotion, and the man paused, the keyboard sound coming to a halt.

"Alex, I live with him-?" Casey bristled, a renewed burst of defiance that almost sounded like panic overtaking her previously numb expression, but Alex just raised the hand on her chest to extend a single finger to Casey's lips, silencing her protest.

She held the phone away from her face so the man couldn't hear what she said, and so the sound of his outraged yelling wouldn't distract her, turning to the muffled Casey with indignation in her voice.

"If you're not above moving in with a hook-up you don't particularly care for, then you'll be fine living with me. After all, that's what I am, right?" Alex paused for an argument that didn't leave Casey's startled face, "... I'm taking you back to New York."

Casey's features sharpened fiercely but she didn't say anything else, letting Alex's hand drop from her lips and allowing the blonde woman to return to her call.

"Shut the fuck up," Alex muttered darkly as she realized the man was still screaming furiously into the receiver, "I'll have someone drop by to pick up her belongings."

She hung up the call and tossed the phone aimlessly, intending for it to hit the desk but it fell onto the floor instead, where it didn't bother either emotion-ridden women further.

"Well," Casey said in a crisp, curt tone of voice, and Alex prepared to fight about what she had just done or at the very least argue against Novak sending her out and away, but Casey did neither of those things. The faux blonde reached and curled her fingers tightly around the fabric of Alex's collar, so tight her knuckles burned white, and dragged Cabot back to the edge of her desk, centimeters from her face.

"I guess there's nothing stopping this, now."

Alex pounced before Casey could, surging forward in a way that made Casey struggle to stay upright on the desk, her lips nipping Casey's plump bottom lip with heady, desperate vigor until the quarter-second later when Casey parted her lips wider to allow Alex's tongue into her mouth.

The first time they had kissed, it was hesitant, and soft, and they had separated every couple of seconds, soft eyes blinking open to ask 'Is this okay?' before being gently pulled back. They had been almost awkward at first, the moment having been initiated by a soft flirt that could've passed as a jest if one of them had wanted to avoid the heavy tension between them, but it had turned into a comforting exchange, Casey's hands slowly raising to cradle her face while Alex's hands slid to caress at her curve of her back, soft nervous breaths against overtly flushed skin like giddy schoolchildren having their first that sounded very out of place for two grown successful attorneys.

This was anything but. This was animalistic, Casey's hands clawing at Alex's collar, Alex's hands refinding Casey's hips and leaning, pushing, until Casey was teetering backward in a way in such her grasp on Cabot was the only thing keeping her sitting and not sprawled out on her back like she knew- like she hoped she was about to be. It had taken forever for anything more than lips to be involved the last time- this time Alex's tongue and teeth were pushing against her mouth in every way possible before she could close her eyes, Alex's fury building into the way she wasted no time.

"Fuck you," Casey spat when Alex separated momentarily to hiss and pant for breath, and Alex snarled back, "I hate you," but less conviction was in it. She kissed her again.

Three years ago, she had extracted power and dominance slowly and carefully, reassuring herself with Casey's soft little sounds, the two on equal footing until Casey allowed her to choose what position she'd rather play in the dance of warmth and comfort. Casey had been prepared to cloud Cabot's mind in a haze and fill her eyes with stars, but Alex had chosen to take Casey beneath her, decided that she wanted to hear the woman as she descended down the length of her torso, and Novak had allowed her that. She was on top, but her eyes flickered constantly up to ensure this was still okay, that Casey was not doing this purely to indulge Alex in something to distract her from the unrelated terror of facing the man who had almost killed her. Casey always looked at her as though Alex was some sort of angel, though, and thus she had continued.

The rush of ascendancy was something that became a lot more overt to Alex, now. She was on top, she was the one shoving Casey against her own desk, she was the one the faux blonde was clinging onto so she didn't fall. There was no question who was in control here, and Alex didn't have to check for Casey's enthusiastic consent, despite the fight blooming in the interaction Casey was a very willing participant and neither had anything to gain by only pretending to be into it. They both needed it more than the oxygen depleting from their lungs, evidenced by the way when they finally broke apart after minutes they were both flushed from breathlessness.

Alex's hands had explored Casey tentatively, last time, pushing at fabric while making eye contact, gentle and slow. She had been so hesitant, in fact, in her pursuit, that Casey had kept chiding her with amusement.

Casey's sweater had been flung into the bookshelf within a minute, and Alex slammed her backward onto the surface of a desk with a ferocity that made Casey groan and arch upwards into Alex's waiting mouth. Alex sank her teeth into the fabric of the younger woman's bra and pulled up and over, leaving the tangle of now-pointless fabric just above her sternum. The office which used to be a church's storage closet- they were still in a literal church- too fucking bad.

"Oh-," came the guttural, growling sound as Alex groped at the expanse of flesh before her, her fingernails digging into whatever she could as she roamed across Casey's chest, her ribcage, her waist, and her still-covered hips. It contrasted immensely with the sounds of Casey's soft mewls Alex had replayed in her mind the past months, but not in a way that dissatisfied her. No matter what erotic sound left Casey's mouth, Alex would eat it up like a woman starved.

"I hate you." Alex moaned breathlessly, nipping at what she could, clawing at what she could. "You infuriate me."

"Oh, really?" Came a snarky reply, "I'd assume you were aroused by me."

"Shut your ass up before I make you."

Casey snorted.

"I hate you," Alex began again, the sound of a zipper's teeth hastily releasing their hold overwriting the satisfaction she had felt slowly tracing each button on Casey's designer pants before popping it free last time, "the way you're so fucking talented but act like you're this whipped puppy."

Casey tried to wrestle up to respond to that properly, but Alex slammed her back down with enough force she gave up trying.

"Even though you do everything I was taught specifically not to unless I didn't want people to take me seriously you're this supposed unconquerable wildfire-" Casey made a sound of interjection, or perhaps she was just stifling a moan as Alex's hand separated the fabric of her undergarments from their rest on her hips.

"Hush." She scolded, not enjoying being interrupted in her barely coherent furious ramble, "-of a prosecutor who turns nothing into solid convictions-"

Despite her not allowing interjections, she cut herself off to extend her tongue to draw a line up the length of the cream-colored soft skin of Casey's abdomen and bask in the squirm that resulted, before continuing in her harsh bitter tone.

"-And to make that even worse the police act like you're some sort of fucking folkhero for going down trying to save one of them."

"Do you have any idea the lengths I had to go to to drag myself out of the glorious shadow left by legendary Alexandra Cabot?" Her voice was sarcastic, rhetorical, raspy, and low.

It was the first time the bitter note to resentment- resentment at being compared, grief from other's struggle to differentiate two successful, powerful female attorneys as individuals rather than cuts of meat to turn around in hands to figure out which would be the better option- had shown through in Casey's voice, and it made Alex freeze, pausing with her fingers centimeters from somewhere interesting. She was unprepared for that response- she could stop now.

Casey rolled her eyes at Alex's hesitation and bucked her hips, lolling her head backward and off the other side of the desk, her multicolor hair spilling over the edge. Alex scoffed and indulged her, rough and ruthlessly efficient.

The faux blonde's shaking hand reached up to clamp over her mouth, her eyes squeezing shut in an attempt to stifle the sounds brewing in her throat.

"You're a cunt," Casey snarled through her fingers, while Alex was knuckle deep in her's, and Alex snapped back "I always thought that I'd be the one you'd have to look up at but it seems like suddenly you're the one I need to compete with for space even though you got yourself fucking suspended."

Casey couldn't hold back an outraged whine, and it went straight to nurture Alex's ego. Her hips were bucking and writhing and Alex had to shift her free hand which she had been using to support herself leaning over the desk to push down on Casey's pelvis to keep her there.

"Fuck, Alex-" Casey choked, and Alex purred unsympathetically.

Last time, soft praise and reassurance had been all that left Casey's mouth, breathless gasps that Alex was beautiful, that she was talented, that she was good, that she was strong, that she was powerful, that Casey was her for the night. Alex had been content to stay silent, basking in the plaudits leaving Casey's mouth in such an erotic tone, but tonight- no, not tonight, it was barely five pm and the sun was still out- she was talkative as hell, and definitely not in the same way.

"And now- now what?" Alex continued, her voice almost mocking, biting, "Now you're hiding in a church acting like you're a victim in some conspiracy of the universe while leaving me to wonder about your absence and count days until someone managed to find some word from you."

Despite herself, possessiveness over a woman she had no claim to filled her tone.

"And you're letting some man fill you with seed so you can pretend that everyone who tells you that's what you were meant for is right- but it's not, Casey, you know that, god, you're stronger than any fucking defense counsel or other attorney I've ever met is, you're worth so much fucking more than being some man's subservient Catholic wife. Are you stupid? How could you do that to yourself?"

Every ounce of her obsession, every drop of toxicity made available in her body surged forth suddenly, and she leaned flat over Casey's form, her fingers still insistent and harsh, her clothed body pressing against Novak's vulnerable skin as she felt words building in her mouth that despite their ruthless intensity she could not hold back.

"And if you really needed a dick to stretch you impossibly wide open to make you feel good about yourself, it very well could've been mine."

Casey made the same sound this time as she did last, the muscles in her body contracting and springing open in the same way, the shallow pants from her parted, kiss-swollen lips as Alex finally relented just the same.

The faux blonde's arched back collapsed and hit the desk with a resounding quiet thump, her head rolling to the side, chest heaving with the effort of catching her breath.

The monster in Alex's brain was swept away on wide, blackened wings, satisfied, leaving her body the same way a demon that had been exorcized would. The angelic display of a post-orgasmic Novak before her cleansed the bitter resentment from her soul, leaving only a warm, tangled mess in its wake. She pressed both hands to the desk at either side of Casey's waist, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and her bowed head as she panted, attempting to recover from the intensity of their exchange, her eyebrows knitting softly over her head, suddenly anxious.

She had gone really far, really fast. She had paid little if any attention to what she had just said, and that was something she never did- her anger resided exclusively inside her heart, and when she did see fit to exhibit it it was through carefully constructed clipped words. She'd have to seek forgiveness for what she had just done, surely, if Casey would allow her to she'd comfort her like anyone who had just had words in that sharp authoritative tone said to them must need to be.

But when Casey straightened, her hands gently raising to cup the sides of Alex's bowed face to tilt her features up to meet her, her eyes gleamed with some sort of breathless triumph, a spark of defiant life that hadn't been present before.

Casey laughed, then, suddenly, a bright sound straight from her heart, divulging in little chuckles, pressing Alex's face into her collar in a messy, loose embrace. Alex was so taken aback by this sudden disparity from her expectation her face broke into a soft, nervous smile and she scoffed gently into Casey's skin, smelling the haze of post-sex mixed with Novak's rich, dark perfume.

"Wow, you must really have it out for me." Casey teased, rearranging locks of Alex's hair back into place with quick, firm movements of her lithe fingers, and Alex took a moment to wallow in the woman of her fantasies being so soft with her, closing her eyes and letting out a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry, Casey." Her tone was hushed now, shame creeping in like a dog tucking its tail between its legs, "That was a lot."

"It's like you fucked the fight back in me," Casey chuffed, pressing a kiss to Alex's forehead and then forcing her to raise her head slightly so she could find her lips once again, "I haven't felt this alive in years."

It was softer, this time. Unlike the ferocious intensity from the previous former kisses, but lacking the hesitation and nervous undertone of their first, this kiss glowed with familiarity and deep emotion from the base of the heart that had been brewing for years and had finally burst into fruition. Alex felt herself leaning into it, tilting her head and parting her lips for Casey to explore the cavern of her mouth with her tongue, while she smoothed her hands apologetically over the small red indentations of her nails that she had made on Casey's torso.

Casey's slacks and undergarments had not left her body entirely, only tugged violently out of the way, and thus redressing her was easy. As Casey lifted her hips to pull the fabric back over herself, Alex stood straight and fetched the sweater from where she had haphazardly thrown it, offering it to her with a small tentative smile.

The faux blonde flexed her eyebrows teasingly, pressing a lingering kiss on Alex's cheek to distract her as she pulled the sweater back over her body, where it draped around her as effortlessly gorgeous as it had before.

"Casey, I'm sorry," Alex murmured again, and even though Casey shook her head she continued. "If I'm honest, I couldn't answer your question- why did I come here- because I don't know. But ever since my testimony, I just- I just knew I needed to see you again. I'll fix things with your boyfriend if you want me to and I can provide whatever reparation you request but I just couldn't stand to never see you again and I can't say goodbye forever to you."

"I mean," she hushed, apprehensive, because Casey was not obligated to stay in her life if she didn't want to. She had been very, very unfairly dismissive of whatever life the faux blonde had built here in Rhode Island, and if Casey preferred the lifestyle here she had cultivated, it would make sense to deny Alex her request. "I could say goodbye if that's what-"

"You're a real goob, you know that?"

"A goob?" Alex felt her nostrils flare, but out of bewilderment. "What does that-?"

"Vincent isn't my boyfriend anymore, he's my ex." Casey corrected, apparently having decided Alex's snap over the phone was an adequate breakup, "and you just fucked me silly after announcing to me with full conviction that I was moving in with you and you were taking me back to New York. Do you take back what you said?"

Alex didn't need to contemplate that, she just shook her head, looking at Casey with rounded blue eyes.

"Do you mind if I sleep in the drive?" Casey inquired casually, picking up her coat from where she had let it drop on the floor, slinging her purse over her shoulder, and picking up Alex's- Alex hadn't even realized she had flung it away from apparently she had- and picking up the phone Alex had similarly discarded on the floor and tucking it back into her pocket.

"Being pounded down made me tired." She finished casually, her tone that feminine, always teasing rasp, and Alex scoffed softly. "No, of course I don't mind."

As if something had just occurred to her, Casey spun on her heel and clasped her hands together in front of her chest, wide-eyed. "Oh, you do need to apologize to my kids, though. You really scared Eleanor. And I need to say goodbye to them."

"I..." Alex's cheeks flushed. Now that the overwhelming press of the beast against her organs had faded, the idea of facing the kids she had been verbally sparring with in some twisted attempt to assert herself as Casey's superior seemed overly intimidating.

Casey caught on to this and raised an eyebrow. "You did say you'd seek whatever reparation I suggested, right?"

The apology to Eric Conner, the Chair of the Economic and Social Council, and to Eleanor, the little freckle-faced faux delegate of Germany, as well as to the twins and the heavyset boy who had challenged her, was very, very sheepish. They seemed to accept it, though, or perhaps they were just distracted by Casey's abrupt farewell.

"But why are you leaving?" The youngest girl mumbled, her brow furrowed with concern, eyes flickering to Alex with a mild degree of accusation as though Alex was at gunpoint forcing Casey to uproot.

"Remember the story of The Prodigal Son? The one the youth minister read to you?" Casey murmured, crouching down and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Luke left home and engaged in reckless behavior. I didn't do exactly that- but I did leave home, and I was living in a way that wasn't honest with myself. I was worried I wouldn't be accepted if I tried to return. In that way, I was too proud to seek forgiveness in the arms of my father the way Luke did- but my angel," Casey cast a small, reassuring glance at Alex, "showed up to tell me it was okay."

"She doesn't act much like an angel," Eleanor grumbled, crossing her arms but apparently acknowledging Casey's story, although she did not want to seem like she was readily accepting Novak's departure.

The two women set off, then, finally, after Casey had comforted the children she had spent the last few years volunteering with and assuring them that the other tutors- so, Casey wasn't the only one, apparently, there were two others- were more than able to support their debate.

"You did noble work. You don't have to leave," Alex spoke softly. She didn't want Casey to have to detach from something that seemed as fulfilling as this, even though she hated that she was on the opposite end of a battle for priority with literal pitiful school children.

"A lot of these kids have troubled home lives." Casey averted her gaze, squinting into the distance, "So they spend time here instead of needing to go home. That's why I liked volunteering so much. God knows things would've been better for me if- well, anyway. But I loved being a prosecutor and the story I told was true."

She sighed, then, "I just.. I didn't really think anyone would be on my side if I tried to come back. Olivia and I were so adversarial at first, because she missed you so much, and then she got you back … and I know Donnelly and the judges I used to have reputance with I need to work doubly hard to restore. The longing for the fight of the courtroom never left, I suppose I just didn't think I had it in me to endure beration like that again."

She sent a crude smile Alex's way, "But I didn't break under you, did I?"

Alex awkwardly looked away, knitting her eyebrows over her eyes with the shameful sheepish expression she had made when apologizing to the children, rubbing her temples with her fingers awkwardly. "Sorry, Casey."

"When we're back in New York, you can show me just how sorry you are."

The elder blonde attorney waited in her car while Casey spoke to a parish assistant and the volunteer coordinator about her leave, drumming her fingers along the edge of the steering wheel apologetically for the way she had clenched her knuckles white around it earlier.

She looked up in time to see the younger woman strolling casually towards her car, and her mind flashed back to the imagination she had had years ago.

Casey's coat was slung over her shoulder, her purse over the other, and her hips swayed the same as Alex had envisioned them to. Adorned in comfortable clothes fitting for a facilitator of education, but now leaving entirely to join her back in the pursuit of law, Casey looked like a triumphant soldier- but at this point, if she was anyone's wife (perhaps that was moving a bit too fast), she was her's.

When Alex met her eyes, Casey's expression paused just the same way it had in her fantasy, the second between recognizing Alex was looking and reacting, and then Casey's face beamed into a broad smile. She pulled the passenger door open, swung herself inside, and then settled, clipping the seatbelt and crossing one leg over the other, peeking around Alex's car curiously before allowing her gaze to be caught by Alex's soft eyes once again.

The smile hadn't left her face, and Alex now returned it, somehow still shyly despite all that had happened. She pulled the car into drive and left the parking lot of the church, setting off for the long trip back to New York.

Alex had gotten her reunion, and exactly what she had wanted out of it, too.

#calex #casey novak #alex cabot #casey novak x alex cabot #law and order svu #svu #law and order special victims unit #lesbian

47 notes · View notes

cosmicmermaidwitch · 1 year ago

Text

pick a pile: your 2024 predictions 🪅

paid readings: ❀ kofi ❀ info ❀

note: this is a collective message, take what resonates and leave what doesn't ! choose the picture that speaks the most to you ☆

.・。.・゜✭

pile one ₊ ⊹

a song that might be significant during the year: magic shop - bts

an animal that might be of significance: walrus

spring:

in 2024 you will begin to feel indifferent about your current career lifestyle. you will notice that you need help and guidance when it comes to being overloaded with work and responsibilities. this will lead to getting new ideas on how to manage your work, not being all by yourself with it anymore. you are also going to find a new hobby, something that has been interesting you for a while but you have been too afraid to try. dont be scared to try something new, I see that youre scared of the judgement and would rather hide that passion of yours, its time to let go and free yourself from peoples expectations.

summer:

summer of 2024 is going to take a wild turn. someone new will come in, if youre in a relationship already your connection will deepen greatly. a chapter of your life and people in it will be left behind in order to fulfill this. you will be way more confident in yourself, not only when it comes to work but also when it comes to your emotions. I see you embracing the tower moment because you know the storm won't last long. your inner masculine will awaken and dominate during this period.

fall:

during the times where the leafs fall, you will be thinking of changing things up a notch. you will be pondering a lot about what kind of future you want to have. youre being encouraged to not fall down the rabbit hole of constantly being in your own head during this time. I see here that you will spend time with friends, but also with yourself a lot. be good to yourself and dont underestimate your power.

winter:

you will be entering winter with a lot of romance and passion, you and your destined person will take a step further during this time. this might take up some restless nights and make you anxious about commitment with this person. you will have to make the decision, whether or not you are ready for it, I see that deep down you are but your worries blind your vision. know that success is within you, you just have to take the path to find it.

.・。.・゜✭

pile two ₊ ⊹

a song that might be significant during the year: late night talking - harry styles

an animal that might be of significance: horse

spring:

the spring of 2024 will bring a rapid change. you will be influenced a lot, but will have to find the strength and courage to go your own way. a lot of people will be removed from your life during this time, this will be a good change. it might be hard at first, go easy only yourself and remember that the universe sends and removes people from or into your life for a reason, some stay for a season and some for a lifetime. the ones that no longer serve you will disconnect from your energy.

summer:

after the turbulent energy from the spring time, things will turn out great for you in summer. when it comes to your connections, you will be much closer to the people you love and form a great divine union with them. as well as more confidence, your career life will gain a lot of fortune, you will be in luck financially. nevertheless I see you being in your head a lot during these times, you sadly doubt yourself too much.

fall:

during fall, the universe will send you to your right path after seeing how much you've been in your head. they will send you information that will spark a light of hope in you, this will lead to you finally embracing confidence and taking the steps you were too scared to take before. the exhaustion from life will be gone during this time, its a good period to go above and beyond without taking on a too heavy load.

winter:

the winter time will be nostalgic for you, a lot of people from your past will come towards you to reconnect. this will be a hard decision for you to make, since some might not have treated you the fairest. you will need to go inside and check on yourself, what do you want? is it worth to risk another heartbreak, or will they finally treat you right? these will be questions following you during those times, be cautious but remember that you are a divine being, you will know what to do when the time is right.

.・。.・゜✭

pile three ₊ ⊹

a song that might be significant during the year: broken clocks - sza

an animal that might be of significance: panda

spring:

in 2024, you will finally free yourself. you will find ways to move forward and close the chapters that no longer serve you in the current times. I see you taking care of yourself a lot, being with the people you love and leaving behind the ones that have caused chaos in the past. financially, it's looking really good in spring. some fortune is on its way, maybe in ways you didn't expect it to come towards you.

summer:

during summer, I see you taking that financial gain to help people in need, your empathy peaks during this time a lot because you will notice how life has been giving you great fortunes. people will see you as a higher status after this, this could have pros and cons but nevertheless, you will have helped someone. this will grant them, but also you, happiness and fortune. remember that what you give to the world, you receive back twice as big.

fall:

fall is looking romantic and cozy, a deep emotional connection will be formed during these times. you will both take parts in healing each other, this could be past wounds or insecurities you carry around when it comes to love. this will help you regain your perspective on how you want to be treated and how you want to treat the ones you love. your love life is going to evolve to a higher status.

winter:

winter will bring similar energy, like the one you had in spring. this will be your final realization, a moment of light finally showing you the way. you and your person will make harsh decisions, but this will work out for the two of you in very good ways. the carefree energy combined with the fortune could be alarming, but for the most part it is actually the way you have always wanted to be.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

reminder: a tarot reading is not absolute. this is for entertainment purposes only!! as a tarot reader, i will offer my opinion and advice, but will not interfere with the free will. any decisions made or actions taken by you as a result of a tarot reading are your sole responsibility. i will be honest in what i see and will not give false hopes or empty promises in order to keep you happy. a tarot reading does not replace professional opinion or advice. no refunds for paid readings !

238 notes · View notes

thetarotwitch111 · 6 months ago

Text

How can you improve your self esteem? - Pick a card witchcraft

One of this piles actually resonated so much for me that i even teared up. May your guides and the Universe lead you to find the best information here too. Axé!

✨Enjoyed the reading? A tip would be a sweet way to help me keep these free insights coming. Thanks so much for your support!

✨ I always use tarot cards and oracle cards for the reedings. Here i used the tarot, the work your light oracle and the prism oracle.

✨ I also channel messages from my guides and add them to the reading.

✨I hope this reading brings you some clarity and guidance. If it resonated with you, I’d love to hear about it!

✨ And if you’re looking for something more personal, I also do individual readings—just DM me anytime.

✨ TIPS ✨

Close your eyes, take a deep breath and ask you guides and the Universe take you to the message you need to read right now.

✨1 - the potion

it’s time to let go of the past and any feelings of regret or missed opportunities. You’ve been holding on to some friends that you’ve lost, and that have left you feeling down, but there’s a reason for all that. They cleared the path for something better that aligns more with who you are now. You’re about to meet people so much more aligned to you and your energy. You’re on the brink of a major shift and being called to open up to new possibilities that are way more in tune with who you are now, not who you were in the past. This is about recognizing that the past doesn’t define your future, your choices do. Start accepting that those chapters are closed and focus on the new opportunities that are coming your way. This shift in mindset is the first step to feeling more confident and at peace with yourself.

And also, step into your power! You’ve got all these dreams and desires, and sometimes it feels like they’re just floating around in the ether, waiting to be grounded in reality. You’re someone who feels deeply, loves deeply, and maybe even dreams with your head in the clouds sometimes. But now it’s time to bring those dreams down to earth and start taking real steps towards them. This is about letting your inner romantic and creative self out to play, whether that means diving into a project, expressing your feelings to someone special, or simply embracing the things that make your heart beat a little faster. Life is too short to hold back, so go ahead and wear your heart on your sleeve. You’re more powerful when you’re true to yourself.

Witch’s advice:

Make a me time with a simple ritual: start with a cleansing bath, from head to toe, using a infusion with lavender, basil, rosemary and chamomile to wash away any lingering doubts and negative energy that might be holding you back. As the water soothes you, imagine it carrying away all your worries and leaving you feeling refreshed and ready to embrace the new and dont rinse off.

After your bath, keep a piece of rose quartz close to your heart and meditate on who you truly are, what you love, and what you want for your life. This crystal will help you nurture that self-love and remind you that you’re worthy of all the good things coming your way. Pair it with citrine, a crystal that’s all about abundance and joy, to attract those positive vibes and keep your energy high.

And because a good cup of tea never fails, brew yourself some dry orange, lavender and vanilla tea. As you sip, take a moment to reflect on what brings you joy, what lights you up, and set an intention to bring more of that into your life. You’d be amazed at how a simple ritual like this can shift your energy already. ✨

✨2 - the oracle

You've been in a bit of a struggle lately, haven't you? It feels like there's been a lot of tension, some conflict, but the good news is that the chaos is starting to calm down and now you can actually hear yourself think. That’s huge because your intuition is seriously on fire right now. You’ve always been someone who picks up on things that others miss, and lately, you’ve probably been keeping a lot of that to yourself, just trying to figure out what’s up. But here’s the thing: you need to start trusting those vibes and letting them guide you. You know what’s best for you, even if it feels like no one else gets it.

it looks like you’re ready to make some bold moves. You’re clear-minded, determined, and you know what you want and nothing is going to stand in your way. Just be careful not to rush things too much. remember that sometimes the best action comes from a mix of speed and strategy.

Also accept that you’re not exactly like everyone else, and that’s f****** perfect! Own it. Sometimes you feel like a total weirdo, like you’re from another planet or something, right? But guess what? That’s your superpower. You’re not here to blend in; you’re here to shake things up. You’ve got this unique way of seeing the world, and yeah, it might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but that’s exactly what makes it so important. The world needs people like you who aren’t afraid to question the sistems, to push boundaries, and to bring in fresh perspectives.

So embrace your weirdness, share your thoughts, even if they’re not what people expect and trust your instincts, because they’re leading you exactly where you need to go. The more you lean into who you really are, the more confident you’ll feel. And don’t forget: Your voice is powerful, so use it.

You’re about to wrap up a huge chapter in your life, and it’s going to feel so good. Everything you’ve been working on is coming together, and you’re stepping into this new phase where you can finally breathe and enjoy.

Witch’s advice:

Get some rosemary and boldo infusion for a cleansing bath, head to toe, with no rinse, to clear away any lingering bad vibes and sharpen that intuition even more. Light a white candle to connect with your higher self and set those intentions and grab some amethyst to keep your energy calm and clear, and carnelian to keep that motivation high. You’ve got this, babe. Now go out there and rock your world. 💫

✨Pile 3 - the candle

I can see you’ve been feeling pretty low lately, maybe like you’re out in the cold, struggling to find your footing. It’s like you’ve been dealing with some tough times financially, emotionally, or maybe even both, feeling isolated, or like you’re facing these challenges all on your own. But really, it’s just a phase. This is a moment where you can start shifting that energy. You’re stronger than you think, and there’s a light at the end of this tunnel. Trust that you’re never alone, even when it feels like it. The spirits are with you, guiding you through the darkness.

You’ve got this incredible spark, this passion and confidence that just shines when you let it. You’re a natural leader, someone who can take charge and inspire others. This is a time to really step into that power, to remember who you are cause you got a lot to offer the world, my dear. Even when life’s hard, you’ve still got that fierce energy inside you. It’s time to reignite it and use it to your advantage. And you’ve got that golden touch for your dreams with the wisdom and the practicality to build something solid, something that will last.

And you’ve got that golden touch to make your dreams come true with wisdom and the practicality to build something that will last. This is about laying the groundwork for the future you want. Be patient, be steady, and trust that the seeds you’re planting now will grow into something beautiful and abundant. You have the strength and the skill to turn your visions into reality! believe that, and keep moving forward.

And oh, the celebration that’s coming your way! You’re on the verge of a big win, a moment where you’re going to feel truly proud of yourself. It’s like all the hard work you’ve been putting in is finally paying off, and you’re going to have a reason to kick back and really enjoy the results. This is about feeling supported, loved, and recognized for everything you’ve achieved. Don’t shy away from celebrating your victories cause you’ve earned this!

But, there’s still some shadow work to do. It’s time to break free from the old patterns, the ones that have been passed down through generations. These cycles of pain and rejection—they’ve been with you for too long. Now is the moment to cleanse yourself, to release what no longer serves you, and to step into a new way of being. This is about healing those deep wounds, not just for yourself, but for those who came before you and those who will come after.

Witch’s advice:

I want you to light a purple candle and set the intention to break those ancestral ties that have been keeping you in negative cycles. Ask your guides and the universe to bring in the energy of transformation and transmutation. Let that candle be a symbol of your commitment to moving forward, free from the past.

Also, do a cleansing ritual. Use herbs like sage or palo santo to cleanse your space and yourself, removing any lingering negative vibes. And since you’ve got some deep transformation energy around you, keep a piece of obsidian and an amethyst cluster. These crystals will help absorb any negativity and protect you as you step into this new era.

114 notes · View notes

80pairsofcrocs · 3 months ago

Text

baby scarab || 68

A/N - so we are traveling the multiverse...

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

A/N : i dont deserve you guys omg, i have missed you all so so much <3

please enjoy, and don't be shy if you want to be in the taglist, just ask <3, sorry for the long wait

pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic) reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader, jake lockley x (platonic)reader, casper hart(OC) x reader

TW : medicine (pills), spidey stuff, mentions of violence, language, multiverse nonsense, nothing makes sense, let me know if i missed anything

~~~

You stand there, feeling the weight of the revelation pressing down on your chest like a leaden anchor. The flickering torches in the temple cast shadows that dance ominously on the walls, echoing your tumultuous thoughts. Khonshu's intense gaze feels almost judgmental, stirring the pot of your frustration further.

Taweret attempts to soothe the growing storm within you, but it’s like trying to calm a tempest with a whisper. You can’t shake the idea from your mind—that maybe, just maybe, you were the reason for their sudden departure.

“Perhaps you should consider the circumstances,” Khonshu interjects, his voice deep and resonant, but this only amplifies your resentment. “Marc is caught in a cycle he cannot control. He fears for your safety.”

Your heart aches at the mention of your dad, the man who fought every monster and shadow for your sake. But this very fight had carved lines of darkness into his spirit, and it’s painful to comprehend that your absence may have been the tipping point. Suddenly, anxiety surges, and you feel a tightening in your throat. “But I’m here! I could’ve helped! I could’ve been there for him!”

Taweret’s eyes soften, and for a moment, the ancient deity feels like the most compassionate of friends rather than a divine entity. “Your love is powerful, dear child. But know that sometimes, those we love carry burdens we cannot lift for them.” Her words settle over you, both comforting and challenging, a reminder that there are things even hugs and reassurances cannot mend.

In that moment, you resolve to take action—not out of anger, but out of a desire to bridge the gap.

“I need to talk to them,” you declare, your voice steadier than you feel. “I’ll figure out a way to reach them in America, to remind them they are not alone.” As you turn to Khonshu and Taweret, determination ignites a new fire in your chest. “They may need help, but so do I. If they can leave, then I can go to them.”

The ancient gods exchange glances, and for an instant, you see admiration flickering in Khonshu’s steadfast eyes, while Taweret nods earnestly. Maybe, just maybe, you have inherited more than the resilience of a warrior.

You have inherited the strength to face the unknown, to connect the strings of love that bind your fractured family, and to affirm what you know deep down: love, even amid chaos, endures.

~~~

As Marc and Layla continued to navigate the strange streets of Chicago, an unsettling chill settled in the air, creeping beneath their skin. Shadows stretched and contorted against the fading sunlight, creating a canvas of anxiety that whispered of something ominous lurking just out of sight.

With every step, Marc felt the ripples of his own doubts and fears pooling in his chest—fears that had crept up on him since they'd crossed into this unfamiliar dimension. He glanced at Layla, and the concern etched across her features ignited a spark within him—the need to protect her—yet he was plagued by uncertainty. “What if we don’t find our way back?” he muttered, mostly to himself.

When they reached a small park blanketed in fallen leaves, the atmosphere shifted. The silence was suffocating as if the world had held its breath. Layla’s grip tightened around Marc’s hand, the warmth of her presence a fragile tether to reality.

“Something is definitely wrong,” she reiterated, her voice low and urgent. “I can feel it.” With a sudden resolve, she turned to face him, her eyes aflame with determination. “We need to get to the bottom of this. If Taweret isn’t responding, there’s a chance the balance is utterly thrown off. We can’t stay idle. What if this is connected to y/n?”

Marc swallowed hard, the pang of his daughter’s name igniting fresh worry within him. “You know, I tried to reach her too—with no success.” He looked down the dimming path, frustration churning in his gut.

“Do you think… could something have happened to her? To us? What if our absence has left something open, something we can’t see?” He felt a deep unease settling in, rooted in the idea that their family—his family—was teetering on the edge without them, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out.

Just as the thoughts darkened, a flicker of movement caught Marc’s eye—a figure darting behind a tree, obscured by the evening haze. Heart racing, he pointed it out to Layla. “Did you see that?” The air felt electric, charged with an anticipatory energy that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He took a cautious step forward, trying to distinguish friend from foe, but before he could act, a low, guttural growl reverberated through the quiet, wrapping around them like a noose. The shadows deepened as if mocking their cautious exploration, and Marc was suddenly struck by an overwhelming certainty: they were not alone.

In that moment, he understood the truth of their predicament. This wasn’t just a wrong turn or a simple dimensional hiccup. Something sinister awaited them, a force that sensed their vulnerability. Whatever had drawn them into this realm had its very own agenda, and with every tick of the clock, Marc felt an impending disaster lurking just beyond the fading light—a disaster that could tear his family apart for good.

Desperation surged through him; he needed to act swiftly. And with that realization, something primal awakened within him—a determination to fight, not just for their return, but for every second they might lose if they didn’t escape the shadows looming closer with every passing breath.

“Is that…?” Layla asks, holding Marc’s hand a little tighter.

“It can’t be…”

It was him.

Arthur Harrow… but he wasn’t alone.

You were with him.

“You’re not our y/n… you can’t be—where are we?!” Marc demands to know, stepping in front of Layla protectively. His heart races as the weight of two worlds collides, an unsettling blend of familiarity and disarray swirling around them.

The distorted lighting of the dimly lit alley distorted the figures before them, casting eerie shadows that danced against the cracked brick walls like specters of the past.

A smirk curls on Harrow’s lips, his eyes glinting with an unsettling mix of triumph and pity. “Ah, Marc, dear boy. You don’t recognize your own memories? This is a realm woven from the threads of what could have been—a universe where Y/N chose a different path.” He gestures toward you, and for the first time, the sight of you sends a shiver down Marc's spine.

The way you stand beside Harrow, seemingly at ease, ignites a flicker of doubt. Had you truly turned against them, or was there something darker lurking beneath the surface, a manipulation lurking just out of sight?

“Y/N…no,” Layla whispers, her voice trembling with disbelief as she studies your expression, desperately searching for the essence of the person they had loved and relied on. But the aura radiating from you and Harrow felt foreign, and yet unnervingly familiar. “What have you done?” Her gaze flickers to Harrow, her mind racing to the implications of this twisted reality.

The air thickens, heavy with an unspoken challenge as you step forward, your eyes glinting with a strange resolve that neither Marc nor Layla had ever witnessed. “This is not about what I’ve done,” you assert, each word deliberate as if unveiling a hidden truth. “This is about what you both failed to see—the potential of embracing darkness to create light.”

Marc takes a step back, a whirlwind of emotions crashing through him. Letting go of Layla’s hand feels unthinkable, yet the pull of your magnetic presence is both unsettling and irresistible. What you appear to offer—the chance to rewrite fate—thrums in the depths of his mind. Time slows as he balances between the echoes of shared laughter and the specters of past choices—a disparate motif drumming a chaos only he seems to feel.

In that moment, reality feels as if it's splitting at the seams, inviting them to ponder a question that they could have never prepared for: Was the path to salvation more than just battles fought in the shadows, and was it perhaps hidden in the embrace of the very darkness they fought against?

~~~

Meanwhile as you had gone and asked for help, reaching out to Peter with the situation, telling you he knew a guy, you found yourself standing nervously in front of the London sanctum. Peter had assured you he could assist, emphasizing the importance of not messing up the mysterious ritual.

Gently, you knocked on the imposing giant doors, watching in awe as they opened slowly on their own, almost beckoning you inside. Taking a cautious look around, you entered the building at a deliberate pace, the doors closing with a resounding thud behind you. As your eyes wandered around the grand interior, a man clad in a blue suit and a striking red cape floated gracefully down the staircase.

"Y/n y/l/n, I anticipated your arrival," he addressed you, standing a few feet away. Anxious to get answers, you anxiously started, "So... you can help me? Where are my parents?" The man raised a hand to signal for quiet, interrupting your inquiry.

"First, there's something you must understand – your parents are not within this realm," he disclosed cryptically. Stunned, you stammered, "What? No greeting, no introduction?" Irritated, he rolled his eyes before speaking with a touch of sarcasm, "Stephen Strange. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

“Yeah okay- obviously you know who I am already, so just tell me how I can bring them back,” you demand, the urgency evident in your voice as you take another determined step closer.

“It’s not that simple. Without knowing where exactly they are, we won’t know where to go,” Stephen explains, his tone tinged with a mixture of compassion and practicality.

“Then find out!” Your impatience boils over, the desperation to reunite with your missing parents fueling your outburst. “They are my parents- I need them back!”

Stephen sighs, a shared sense of understanding passing between you both. “I empathize with your situation but it’s just not that simple. After I open the portal, you’ll need to navigate through the unknown to locate the universe they inhabit and then safely return here.”

You shift your weight impatiently, resolve shining in your eyes as you respond without hesitation, “I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring them back.”

Stephen arches an eyebrow, recognizing the unwavering determination in your gaze. Leading you towards a separate chamber, he prepares you for the challenges ahead. “It won’t be an easy journey. There will be sights that may haunt you. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“I've already witnessed my biological father rising from the dead; I believe I can handle whatever lies ahead,” you assure him confidently, the memory of that astonishing event reinforcing your brave front.

Nodding at your resolve, Stephen gestures grandly, conjuring a mesmerizing display of orange and yellow sparks that converge to form a shimmering portal. As the portal expands to human-sized proportions, he steps back, the preparation complete.

Handing you a sleek triangular device, he cautions, “After you locate your parents, ensure that all of you touch this device and press the button simultaneously. It will transport you back through the portal to safety here.”

Gratefully accepting the device, you secure it in your jacket pocket, the weight of the mission ahead settling on your shoulders. “Thank you,” you express sincerely.

“Don’t mention it,” Stephen replies casually, motioning towards the now-glowing portal. “Good luck on your interdimensional journey, arachnid.”

Stepping resolutely into the portal, you pause, surprised by the revelation of your alter ego that Stephen casually drops. “Um, thanks for the support.”

With a nod of acknowledgment, you take the final step into the unknown, ready to traverse the intricate web of the multiverse in pursuit of your beloved parents.

~~~

Back with Marc and Layla, the tension in the room thickened as Steven and Jake continued to remain mysteriously absent, granting Marc full dominion over the body. This newfound authority weighed heavily on Marc, visible in the way his shoulders tensed and his every movement exuded uncertainty.

The second y/n, her laughter ringing ominously through the air, moved closer towards the bewildered couple. A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she taunted Marc Spector, a name from a past that now seemed distant and yet hauntingly familiar. "I never thought I'd witness that look of disbelief on your face again, Marc Spector. Not since the day I extinguished your life," she chuckled darkly, twirling a dagger nonchalantly in her hand.

The widening eyes of Marc and Layla betrayed their escalating horror as the truth unfolded before them. "You... we... we're deceased in this realm? You ended my life?!" Marc's voice quivered with a blend of fear and disbelief, his world shattering into a million fractured pieces.

"It was a simple feat. You were so naïve, so easily deceived. Even Steven and Jake fell into my trap without a hint of suspicion," the mysterious figure, now identified as Harrow, reassured with a cold grip on the other y/n's shoulder. "Now, Khonshu and the others bow to my will - a reality beyond your grasp." Her laughter, tinged with madness, echoed hauntingly in the confined space, sending shivers down Layla's spine.

Layla, her voice laced with urgency and desperation, stepped forward in a bid to plead for reason. "Please, think about this. We are not meant to linger here. Allow us the chance to find our way back to where we belong."

Dismissing Layla's plea with a disdainful scoff, the other y/n's gaze darkened with a resolute finality. "This is not a dilemma we concern ourselves with. This time, the veil between life and death shall not be breached again," she stated coldly, her eyes narrowing as Harrow silently signaled permission for a potentially fatal encounter.

The impending danger loomed menacingly as Harrow's chilling smile and the ominous words she imparted to the other y/n set the stage for a confrontation that could tilt the scales of fate irreversibly. "Show them no mercy," instructed Harrow, the weight of her authority palpable in those words.

The other y/n, bearing the weight of a deeply woven past and an uncertain future, responded to Harrow's command with a stoic assurance. "As you wish, father," she affirmed, her resolve unwavering as she prepared to execute a fate that could seal the doomed couple's existence in the enigmatic realm they were trapped in.

~~~

You blink a few times as you enter the new world, the unfamiliar surroundings painting a scene of wonder and intrigue before you.

Looking around the building you’re in, your eyes linger on the intricate design of the architecture, the way the light filters in from the skylights above casting patterns on the floor beneath your feet. Your breath catches at the grandeur of it all, a whispered "woah" escaping your lips as you try to take it all in.

Taking a few hesitant steps forward, your senses are overloaded with the sights and sounds of this strange place. A low hum fills the air as a floating platform descends gracefully from the tall opening in the ceiling, the soft glow of its runes illuminating the space around you. On the platform, you spot a man standing tall, his expression a mix of curiosity and bemusement as he gazes down at you.

Beside him stands another figure, much smaller in stature but no less intriguing, their eyes fixed on you with a mixture of wariness and fascination. As you stand there, the weight of the unknown pressing in around you, you can't help but feel a sense of exhilaration mingled with trepidation.

"Dad..? Is that you?" you called out eagerly, your heart racing with anticipation as the platform steadily approached. Drawing nearer, a mixture of hope and doubt churned within you, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

However, as the figure on the approaching platform became clearer, revealing features that bore no resemblance to your father, a wave of disappointment washed over you.

"Do I look like your dad?" he asks sarcastically, a playful glint in his eye, as you shake your head in response. Meanwhile, the tiny floating woman, with her ethereal presence, seems to defy the laws of physics by almost teleporting right into your face. Startled, you take a step back, a mix of surprise and intrigue dancing in your eyes.

"Aww! Look how cute she is!" the tiny woman exclaims, her voice overflowing with a sense of wonder and delight. As she gushes over your mystical visitor, golden sparks of pure magic emanate from her essence, casting a mesmerizing glow around her petite form.

"Uh.. weird question-“ you start to ask tentatively, your words trailing off as the weight of the larger man's presence fills the small space around you. His stern demand to "Zip it" echoes in the cramped room, silencing any further inquiries for the moment. As you gather your thoughts under the intensity of his gaze, you can't help but feel a knot of apprehension tighten in your gut.

"How’d you find this place?” The larger man steps off the platform, stopping maybe a foot away from you, his navy and red suits boots creaking slightly under his weight as he gazes down at you with a discerning look etched across his weathered face.

As you stood there in the dimly lit room, a sense of urgency tugged at your heartstrings. "I'm just looking for my dad, man," you uttered softly, the words hanging heavy in the air.

"Did Peter B recruit you?” He asks, his voice laced with an undertone of suspicion as he eyed you intently, searching for any subtle signs of betrayal in your expression.

"Who?" you ask innocently, feigning ignorance to mask the rapid beating of your heart that threatened to give away your ruse.

The man’s body tenses almost imperceptibly at your response, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before the smooth mask of his suit shifts in a mechanical motion to cover his face. The sudden movement sends a shiver down your spine, a silent warning that you were playing a dangerous game with dangerous people.

"Whoa, dude, can you please calm down? I assure you, I have no intention of causing any harm." Your voice wavers slightly as you instinctively raise your hands up as a gesture of surrender before the intense situation.

Observing your reaction, he tilts his head in curiosity, taking a step closer, while the small floating woman, who seems to possess a wisdom beyond her appearance, chooses this moment to interject. "Miguel, come on, ease up a bit. Can't you see that shes, like, a child? There's no need for the gwumpy face,” she remarks, crossing her arms in a display of playfully authoritative posture.

As you press the intricate button on your ring with a sense of familiarity, you feel a rush of anticipation building up within you. The signal triggers a swift and elegant transformation process, like a metallic dance enveloping your body.

The special material of your spider suit elegantly molds itself around you, its unique design serving both form and function. Ensuring every crevice fits snugly and each joint moves with precision, you witness the suit's shimmering surface gleaming in the dim light.

In response to your transformation, the man known only as Miguel reacts with a subtle yet noticeable gesture, raising an eyebrow beneath the mysterious cover of his mask. Slowly, deliberately, he strides toward you with an air of confidence, his movements calculated and purposeful. The space between you diminishes until you can feel the solid wall pressing against your back, a physical barrier raising your awareness.

“Tell me how you found us,” he orders, his tone firm and commanding. “Now,” he demands, his eyes piercing and unwavering.

"Listen, Miguel," you begin nervously, your voice quivering slightly. "I'm just trying to find my dad," you explain, a hint of desperation creeping into your tone.

“Well, he’s not here,” Miguel interrupts abruptly, his expression hardened, leaving no room for negotiation.

As you process his words, a flood of emotions washes over you. Disappointment, frustration, and a lingering sense of determination swirl within you. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before responding.

"Then I'll be on my way," you assert calmly, despite the turmoil swirling inside you.

"You know where the spider society is, I'm afraid you can't leave just yet,” he says sternly as his mask slides back into place, hiding the intensity of his gaze. He watches you intently, unyielding in his stance.

You begin to assure him, “I'm not going to tell anyone about this, I promise—" but he cuts you off, his voice unwavering, “We can't trust that—trust you to keep this secret safe.”

"Just let her go, Miguel," the small woman interrupted, her voice tinged with a sense of urgency as she hovered by Miguel's shoulder. Your exasperated sigh filled the tense air, a subtle indicator of your frustration in the face of this unexpected encounter.

"I'm not from this universe; I'm simply navigating my way back to my parents," you explained, your tone pleading for understanding.

Miguel's focused gaze remains fixed on you as he calmly reaches out to operate a button situated on his sleek desk, instantly deactivating the petite woman standing nearby with a swift motion. His mask smoothly slides back into place, concealing any hint of emotion on his stoic face.

Within the blink of an eye, he lunges aggressively towards you, his hands grabbing your shoulders with a forceful grip before deftly spinning you around and forcefully pressing your back against the cold, forbidding wall.

Reacting swiftly and instinctively, you adeptly duck and drop to the ground, maneuvering out of his grasp just in time to evade the sharp, menacing claws that scrape menacingly against the protective metal surface of your suit.

With skilled agility, you roll skillfully out from under his towering figure as he whirls around in search of apprehending you again, his intent clear in his predatory movements, poised for another attempt to capture you. In your hands, you deftly produce the invaluable portal device, a powerful tool that may be your key to escape or turn the tables in this tense confrontation.

Miguel's swift and aggressive move caught you off guard as he tackled you to the floor, causing your grip to loosen and the device slipped out of your hand, falling with a clatter. Your immediate protest was cut short by his forceful action as he hoisted you up by your arm, his grip a vice as he pushed you back against the unyielding wall.

The word "stay" was a command that brooked no defiance, echoing with a threatening undertone that sent shivers down your spine.

As Miguel turned away, a surge of adrenaline propelled you into action, your instincts screaming at you to seize the opportunity to escape. You slipped away noiselessly, stealthily retrieving the precious device, your fingers trembling slightly with a mix of fear and determination. The button under your touch felt both familiar and alien, a key to another reality beckoning with unknown possibilities.

With a quick press, the device came to life, emitting a soft hum that seemed to vibrate in tune with the escalating beating of your heart. The split-second decision had been made, and as the world around you shimmered and twisted, Miguel's approaching footsteps were the last evidence of the reality you left behind.

One universe down.. many more to go.

~~~

In the alternate reality, where the version of 'you' present had decidedly not shown mercy towards Marc and Layla, an intense confrontation unfolded. Jake found himself in a pressing situation where he had to take command of the shared body to thwart the aggressive actions of the other 'you' without causing significant harm.

This pivotal event took place just a mere hour in the past, yet its repercussions and the adrenaline of the moment still lingered in the cramped surroundings of their hideout.

Currently seeking refuge inside a nondescript gas station, Jake and Layla tried to find a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos. The air was heavy with tension as they sipped on the subpar coffee available at the establishment, the bitter liquid providing a stark contrast to the bitter circumstances surrounding them.

Despite the apparent calmness that now enveloped the space they were in, both Layla and Jake knew that danger still lurked just beyond the walls of their temporary sanctuary. Each sip of coffee served as a bitter reminder of the harrowing events that had transpired, emphasizing the need for them to remain vigilant and stay on guard.

Jake's frantic pacing came to a halt as he voiced his inner turmoil, feeling the weight of responsibility for Y/N's safety pressing down on him. "What do we do?" he questioned, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation. The thought of leaving Y/N alone in an unknown place gnawed at his conscience, clouding his mind with worry.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Jake's nerves became apparent through his restless rambling, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. Layla, recognizing the unease plaguing Jake, reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. Her touch, warm and reassuring, offered a sense of solace amidst the chaos that swirled around them.

“We can't just leave Y/N behind. How are we going to make it back?” Jake's words revealed the depth of his concern, his eyes darting around in search of a solution to their predicament. The uncertainty of their situation loomed large, casting a shadow over their plans and testing their resolve.

Layla's soothing response broke through the fog of doubt that clouded Jake's mind, her voice calm and steady as she assured him, “We'll find a way back, and I'm certain that Y/N is capable enough to handle whatever comes her way. She's a strong, capable young woman, and we have to trust in her strength."

Jake, feeling a surge of gratitude for Layla's unwavering support, let her words wash over him, a beacon of hope in the midst of uncertainty. The weight of responsibility began to lift slightly from his shoulders as he absorbed her calm reassurances, a glimmer of optimism shining through the darkness of doubt.

“I know. you're.. right,” Jake acknowledged, his voice softer now, tinged with a sense of relief. Running a hand wearily down his face, he exhaled heavily, a semblance of peace settling upon him. In Layla's presence, he found a sense of clarity and comfort, her unwavering belief in their ability to overcome obstacles serving as a guiding light in their journey back to safety.

Layla let out a gentle sigh, her brows furrowed with genuine concern as she inquired, "And how about the others? Are they doing alright?" Her voice held a note of apprehension, betraying her worry for the well-being of their companions.

Jake gave a slight nod, his expression grave yet reassuring. "They seem to have settled down for now. It might be best if they stay put for a while," he remarked, his hand mimicking a tear sliding down his cheek as he referenced Steven without directly naming him. The gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air, palpable in his somber demeanor.

In response, Layla let out a soft chuckle, her laughter mingling with a hint of fond exasperation. "Don't be too hard on him," she chided gently, her words laced with empathy.

"It's perfectly natural to feel overwhelmed and show emotion in times like these-“ Her gaze softened as she defended Steven, a touch of understanding in her voice that spoke volumes about her compassionate nature towards their friend's vulnerability.

"He cries at movies," Jake cuts her off with a chuckle, his eyes glistening as he recalls the emotional scenes that always tug at his heartstrings.

"So do I," Layla replies, her voice warm and understanding, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. She mirrors Jake's gestures, placing her hands on her hips in solidarity.

Jake, ever the skeptic, rolls his eyes at Layla's response, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he dismisses her comments. Their banter is light-hearted and filled with shared moments of teasing and laughter.

"We’ll be okay," she assures him with a gentle smile, her expression filled with a comforting warmth that enveloped them both. Her eyes sparkled with a glimmer of hope, sending a silent reassurance to Jake. It was a small gesture, but it carried a weight of sincerity that eased the tension in the air.

Jake, catching her gaze, felt a sense of calm wash over him. He recognized the unspoken promise in her eyes, a promise of unwavering support and solidarity. Somehow, her simple words held a profound significance, grounding him amidst the uncertainty of the moment.

With a subtle nod, Jake acknowledged her words, his own silent agreement reflecting in his eyes. It was a mutual understanding that transcended spoken language, a shared belief in their ability to weather whatever challenges lay ahead.

In that fleeting moment of connection, they found solace in each other's presence, drawing strength from the unspoken bond between them. It was a poignant reminder of the power of human connection, of the comfort that can be found in a shared smile and a knowing look.

And as they faced the unknown future together, they held onto that shared assurance, a simple yet profound declaration that echoed in their hearts: "We’ll be okay."

~~~

A/N - OOPS CLIFFHANGER!!!!! next part out hopefully by NOVEMBER 25th!!! i love you all so much, i cant wait to see feedback on the new writing style and about the story :)

~~~

taglist -

@alexloveskili @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @thebiggestsimpshrimp @guyinachair27 @astrobuzzsstuff @mooonlight-and-stars @moonlighting87 @mateihavenoidea @inactive-things @alondrashultz @femalemarvelself @queenthorin1 @haileymorelikestupid @jvdethirlwall @justtiredandvibing @winterfrostsarmy @themapoftinyperfectthings @littlebird101 @atzlena @httpslinow @arrowurboat @m-brekker @lifeandbandmembers-blog @adamcarlsenslvr @violet-19999 @seninjakitey @bestgirlpip @panic-in-the-multiverse @in-between-the-cafes @branolagar @bl6o6dy @annoyingmarvelreader @bee-a-cool-kid @buzzitsbeee @wintergirlsoilder2 @crow-carcass @you-bloody-shank @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @valiantphantomangel @50shadesofcrocs @rayrlupin @kingshitonly @brekkers-desigirl @hutaos-gh0st @kayane28 @nevaeh-jasso @lizlil @scarabgrant @luvxxee @certainchildmentality @yikesitskennawrites @alexisabirdie @zlatolait-writes @thursdaywritings @izzzzy-the-amazing @angrykitsune01 @kult6 @deadthings-pdf @0scars1saac @jones89 @idontknowicomefromtwitter @yeetskeeter @romanoffsurvives52

52 notes · View notes