Compassion
Post Episode: Feel the Heat; CSI: Written: 12/20/08
"Miss Willows, chief Deputy DA Jeffery Sinclair."
As if dealing with the twelfth death of an infant wasn't enough emotional strain on Catherine, the man dressed in black just had to appear around the corner. With a silent sigh Catherine put on her perkiest face, although not much, it managed to fool the man.
"Personal visit; must be important." Before Catherine could get anything more out, Mr. Sinclair cut her off. Now frowning, annoyance was clearly written across her soft features, but the man didn't seem to care.
"It is. Joshua Winston, the dead infant…" Catherine was on the brink of snapping; instead she restrained herself to cut Mr. Sinclair short.
"We're working on it." As the facts were exchanged between the two law enforcement workers, Catherine fought hard to keep her tears of grief and remembrance at bay, beating them away with her long lashes.
In a flash, the DA's own grievance and frustration flew across his face. "An hour 'n half. Come on. Look, I have a three year old at home and I've left him in a covered garage with groceries for two minutes tops. But two hours in this heat?" In that same instant, as soon as he was done speaking, those emotions had vanished.
"I know," she responded thoughtfully, "it's a tragedy."
"You know, cases like these almost never make it to the inside of a court room; this one will," Mr. Sinclair commented as he scribbled something down on a pad of paper. His love for his own child was evident from the way he had expressed himself.
"Is there any worse punishment then losing your child?" Catherine asked. The words she spoke cut deep into the almost healed wounds that had been left on her heart. She was blinking more frequently as she realized the man had no idea of what that could be like.
"Yeah, jail time," he responded almost fiercely. As the two finished up the conversation and the man had left, all of Catherine's annoyance was gone, the void now filled with sorrow. She walked to the locker room, steps heavy and her shoulders slumped.
Catherine approached her locker, running her hand along the cool, dark metal until she reached the lock. As she spun the dial in the familiar pattern and her mind wandered, tears slid down her porcelain colored cheeks.
--
Christopher was so young at only ten months when he died. Catherine and Lindsey had been at their happiest in those short ten months. Lindsey had reacted to Christopher's presence in the complete opposite of the stereotype that comes with a new baby. Mother and daughter worked in sync to take care of the small boy, even with the absence of his father.
Catherine had thought she had gotten over the worst of the grieving, but working on this case had brought back the memories of what was gone. Every time she closed her eyes, he was there. She missed the way is silky smooth skin felt under her fingers. The way his soft, light brown hair seemed to shine in the sunlight. His baby-blue eyes that smiled even when his mouth did not. What she missed the most, was the thing she would never feel again: the feeling of her baby boy in her arms, to be depended on, his fingers grasping one of hers.
--
The sudden sound of a locker door being shut snapped Catherine back into the world of the living.
"Hey," Warrick greeted while he adjusted the shirt he had just changed into. Catherine looked towards him before quickly turning away, remembering her current state. She batted away her tears and sniffed back the rest before responding.
"Hi," she said with a sigh. This was all new for Catherine. Her typical response to Warrick being in the same room was gone. Her heart wasn't racing, she wasn't becoming even the slightest bit fidgety or over talkative. And although Warrick never seemed to know those things, it was apparent that he knew something was wrong by the way he reacted.
"Okay, tell me what's wrong and whose neck you want to ring?" he said half jokingly. Catherine gave him a fake smile before turning back towards her open locker. Warrick sat down on the bench beside her.
"I'm being serious."
Without shame, Catherine stood, turned her back towards him and rid herself of her black, sleeveless tank top. She half turned, inadvertently giving him a glimpse of her front, while she grabbed a fresh shirt. She returned to her previous position and pulled it over her head. Catherine turned around, closing her locker as she did so, the tears still stinging her eyes.
"The case is just getting to me," she finally admitted. Warrick placed his hand on her bare arm, coaxing her to sit down, the color of his skin creating a deep contrast to hers. The spark she always felt when they touched was there, but it was far off. As though she was numb to anything but the sadness.
As she sat down, Warrick cleared his throat to fill the empty silence while waiting for Catherine to go into a further explanation. She was reluctant to share anything to begin with, but with the added element of Warrick silently pushing for answers, it made the game of cat and mouse that much harder. And although Catherine wasn't experiencing the full thrill of the game, she wasn't about to give in.
"You're not going to tell me," Warrick guessed. Catherine looked at him briefly, the look of hurt in his eyes adding insult to injury. She turned away, now staring absent-mindedly at the wall of closed lockers, allowing her mind to wander again.
--
When Catherine had learned of Christopher's accidental conception it turned to be just the shock she needed to get her life back on track. Since happiness had proved itself to be a fleeting emotion for the Willows family, it wasn't a terrible surprise that something this horrible was able to happen.
It was an even greater surprise that no one at work had found out about her pregnancy. Of course there had been some speculation when Catherine's colleges started noticing her increasingly frequent bathroom trips. After managing to overcome most of the morning sickness and extinguishing the rumors flying around, Catherine started to notice her rapid weight gain. Not a single person knew about Christopher's soon-to-be existence, so when her physical appearance noticeably began changing, she left on sabbatical.
--
The shuffling sound Warrick made by standing caused Catherine to turn towards him. New tears were running down her cheeks. She attempted to stand up while spinning on her heel to avoid further confrontation. While doing this a feeling of dizziness and nausea overcame her. In what felt like slow motion, Catherine felt her knees give out and the ground start to rush towards her. She felt Warrick's hands brush against her waist in an attempt to stop her fall.
Even though Warrick had a slight grip on her, the momentum Catherine had gained from her 5'6 stature and gravity caused her body to be ripped from his grasp.
Now slumping on the floor, leaning her back against the lockers, Catherine supported her arms on her raised knees. She placed her throbbing head in her hands, staring down at the visible floor beneath her while she quietly sobbed.
Catherine heard Warrick sit down next to her, barely any space between them, but she did not raise her head.
"Sorry, Cath," Warrick apologized as if it were his fault she had fallen. Catherine turned her head slightly in his direction in an acknowledgement.
"You didn't do anything, Rick," she answered between quiet sobs. Catherine felt the dull spark again as he placed his arm around her. The sudden showing of compassion caused her normal emotions for Warrick to reemerge. Although he could not see it, she tried with all her might to hold on to them; to wallow in their depths if only for mere moments, until the pain and sadness filled her mind once more.
"Come on, Catherine, what's bugging you?"
Catherine could no longer understand being alone in her mess. Even though Lindsey was also involved, drowning a teenager in adult problems was never the right thing to do. She needed a release; someone to help her through all the pain. She couldn't tell Grissom, even though her was a long time friend, he was still her boss; therefore, he would feel responsible to give her a lecture. Catherine couldn't involve Nick or Greg; they looked up to her too much. Since she and Sara had never gotten along, who better to tell than the man who had her almost completely figured out?
Catherine stood up, finding Warrick's hand as she did. She waited for him to stand before walking out of the locker room while keeping a firm grasp on his hand. Both people completely ignored the stares they received. Catherine allowed her tears to run, but they slowly let up at the thought of no longer being alone.
Throughout the silent car ride, Catherine grew more and more thankful that Warrick was not asking questions. As they pulled into the cemetery's parking lot, feelings of regret filled her mind. She felt guilty dragging another person into this, but she knew Warrick would understand. She did her best to push those thoughts out of her mind while she half listened to Warrick who--to the best of her guessing ability-- made a call to their boss to inform him of the current whereabouts of his two CSI's. As soon as his phone had been shut off, Catherine quickly stepped out of the driver's door.
"It's now or never," she mumbled to herself before starting up the graveled pathway. She heard the heavy crunch of Warrick's quickened footsteps as he tried to catch up to her. Eventually, his long legs proved useful; she could see him walking beside her.
As the two approached a large willow tree, fresh, silent tears started down Catherine's cheeks. She kept walking until the carved words were clearly readable on the small headstone. She watched wordlessly as the man she trusted immensely stepped forward and read the inscription:
Christopher Flynn
Here lies ten month old son and brother.
Who the angels took away too soon.
R.I.P
2003-2003
Catherine finally felt the numbness leave her body, but the pain was still there. As the weight was lifted from her shoulders, she inhaled sharply, her whole body shaking.
She watched, with great anticipation, for Warrick's reaction. Although he didn't voice it, Catherine could tell Warrick was shocked beyond belief. She never took her eyes off of him while he moved towards the truck of the tree. Catherine was reluctant to move closer to her son's final resting place, but she followed him slowly.
Warrick looked at Catherine and she looked him straight in the eyes, her own giving away just how vulnerable she really was. She moved closer to Warrick as he sat, back against the tree. She sat beside him, as close to him, and as far away from the stone as she could get.
A sudden spark flew through her body, as he placed his arm over her again. The feeling increased as he pulled her closer, allowing her to lean into him. Catherine overcame the wall that was holding back all of her emotions. She laid her head against Warrick's chest; his emotion support sent her back into her comfort zone. She reached out with her left hand until it came in contact with the cold stone. With her right hand, Catherine placed it in Warrick's, his thumb gently rubbing the top of hers.
The headstone felt rough to her touch, like sandpaper. The dark gray coloring had started to fade from the sun and rain exposure that had occurred in the past couple of months. Catherine began to run her fingers across the edge in time with Warrick's movements. She let her hand drop before leaning further into Warrick. She felt the slight pressure he applied she he kissed the top of her head.
Even in the midst of this emotional roller coaster, all caused by one case, Catherine managed to find somewhat of a bliss after finally letting go and showing how truly vulnerable no matter how strong-minded, cocky, stubborn, or outspoken she could be to the one man she trusted the most. Things could finally get better, after all the time she spent hiding her feelings from everyone. She could move forward with the help of Warrick. She could finally be happy.
Fin.
