Disclaimer: still don't own the characters, still don't own the song.
It's in your moves
It's in your blood
You're a man of the street
When you said goodbye
You were on the run
Trying to get away from the things you've done
Now you're back again and you're feeling strange
So much has happened and nothing has changed
Still don't know where you're going
You're still just a face in the crowd
You belong to the city
You belong to the night
Catherine returns to work a week after the doctors release her from their care. She has had little contact with any of her co-workers, only just enough to let them know what they need.
She is met by many relieved friends, fawning over her, upon her arrival. Her remarks to everyone are warm and kind, like nothing is wrong. But her experience, if you could call it that, helps her to realize something: she does not matter. Her attacker thought so, and the idea has planted itself in her mind. She's just a face in the crowd. No one really cares for her. The city owns her. They work her to death, and then she does die. And do they really care? Not in her mind.
In the middle of her shift, she is asked by Grissom to talk in his office. Though not looking forward to it, she complies and puts on a good face.
"Catherine, are you alright?" It's not many who could come back after an ordeal like that."
"Don't worry, I'm fine. Oh, I never heard about my attacker. If you're still searching for him, look for someone missing a good chunk of their penis."
Moments pass in silence. Finally, Grissom speaks, saying what has been bothering him since that night. "Catherine, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. I made a promise to you, and I should have honored it. If I had just been there-"
"Gil, it's not your fault. Please, don't blame yourself. No, let me speak," she says, holding up her hand to prevent him from interrupting her. "Just let me finish. I should have never put you in that position. There were a lot of things that I could have done to prevent this. I know how dangerous these streets are. I had no right to make you drop everything and come tend to my needs. If you want to get laid, go ahead. Please, don't let me be the one to stop you."
"Catherine," Grissom says, almost warningly.
"Please, just let me say what I have to say. I should not have been so dependent on you, and more on myself. You deserve a life too. I could've called a cab, or tried harder to find another ride. You shouldn't blame yourself."
Grissom remembers an evaluation that Catherine wrote about him only three months before. One part in particular sticks, overwhelming him with guilt.
"How lucky we are, to have a boss so dedicated to his job and
the ethics and morals he preaches to us. Sure, he may have no
life, but that's okay. He sets and more than fulfills the
standards for proper behavior, setting a wonderful example for
us, his employees and followers."
He has let her down, and he knows it. He has let everyone down. It is not appropriate for a supervisor to be sleeping with one of his staff. He knows this, and Catherine knows this. What can he say? Nothing.
"You know, it's times like these that really teach you a lot about yourself," Catherine says. "And not just yourself, but even the company you keep. It's great to know who my friends are. Now I know who I can depend on. Myself."
tbc
It's in your moves
It's in your blood
You're a man of the street
When you said goodbye
You were on the run
Trying to get away from the things you've done
Now you're back again and you're feeling strange
So much has happened and nothing has changed
Still don't know where you're going
You're still just a face in the crowd
You belong to the city
You belong to the night
Catherine returns to work a week after the doctors release her from their care. She has had little contact with any of her co-workers, only just enough to let them know what they need.
She is met by many relieved friends, fawning over her, upon her arrival. Her remarks to everyone are warm and kind, like nothing is wrong. But her experience, if you could call it that, helps her to realize something: she does not matter. Her attacker thought so, and the idea has planted itself in her mind. She's just a face in the crowd. No one really cares for her. The city owns her. They work her to death, and then she does die. And do they really care? Not in her mind.
In the middle of her shift, she is asked by Grissom to talk in his office. Though not looking forward to it, she complies and puts on a good face.
"Catherine, are you alright?" It's not many who could come back after an ordeal like that."
"Don't worry, I'm fine. Oh, I never heard about my attacker. If you're still searching for him, look for someone missing a good chunk of their penis."
Moments pass in silence. Finally, Grissom speaks, saying what has been bothering him since that night. "Catherine, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. I made a promise to you, and I should have honored it. If I had just been there-"
"Gil, it's not your fault. Please, don't blame yourself. No, let me speak," she says, holding up her hand to prevent him from interrupting her. "Just let me finish. I should have never put you in that position. There were a lot of things that I could have done to prevent this. I know how dangerous these streets are. I had no right to make you drop everything and come tend to my needs. If you want to get laid, go ahead. Please, don't let me be the one to stop you."
"Catherine," Grissom says, almost warningly.
"Please, just let me say what I have to say. I should not have been so dependent on you, and more on myself. You deserve a life too. I could've called a cab, or tried harder to find another ride. You shouldn't blame yourself."
Grissom remembers an evaluation that Catherine wrote about him only three months before. One part in particular sticks, overwhelming him with guilt.
"How lucky we are, to have a boss so dedicated to his job and
the ethics and morals he preaches to us. Sure, he may have no
life, but that's okay. He sets and more than fulfills the
standards for proper behavior, setting a wonderful example for
us, his employees and followers."
He has let her down, and he knows it. He has let everyone down. It is not appropriate for a supervisor to be sleeping with one of his staff. He knows this, and Catherine knows this. What can he say? Nothing.
"You know, it's times like these that really teach you a lot about yourself," Catherine says. "And not just yourself, but even the company you keep. It's great to know who my friends are. Now I know who I can depend on. Myself."
tbc