Disclaimer: I don't really need to say this 'coz it's pretty obvious that I don't own CSI, but here you go anyway.
Spoilers: Some reference to 'Strip Strangler'.
A/N: Wow. It's been ages since I've written anything. Major writers block I guess. This story is pretty dark, although it cheers up a bit at the end. It's written from Catherine's point of view. As always please read and review. Thanx.
"Never doubt. Never look back. That's how I live my life." My own words run through my head. Haunting me. It was a brave statement. Untrue, but impressive all the same. It's the way I wish I lived my life, rather than the way I actually do.
I constantly replay every mistake I make in my head. I regularly have trouble sleeping, because I can't stop myself from thinking about every moment that I regret. I hate it, but I can't help it.
It's been this way since I was a teenager. You know how it is when you go out with your friends, to a party or whatever and you get drunk, completely wasted. When you wake up the next morning you feel absolutely shit. You think back over the night before and realize that some of your memories are seriously fuzzy. Memories of relatively insignificant things hat you take for granted, like dancing or the cab ride home. However, you do remember every major event, including, annoyingly, the ones you would rather forget. Things like trying to kiss your ex, smoking when you swore that you never would or saying stupid things to your friends. Afterwards, when it's too late to change things, you would claim that you would never drink again, but it never lasted. Those were the sorts of things that kept me awake at night as a teenager. Maybe those events aren't so common for everyone, but I always had a reckless streak that my conscience couldn't keep in check, so we're talking lots of lost sleep here.
Now that I'm older the regrets of my younger self seem trivial. Not worth the hours of lost sleep. But I still lie awake for hours, looking back, doubting my own actions.
I have regretted every hit of cocaine I ever took, every item of clothing I removed on stage. I've hated myself for every time I stayed when Eddie hit me, for not realizing that he was cheating on me. I'm drowning in self-doubt over my abilities as a mother. I constantly worry that I may be damaging Lindsey by never being there for her. I beat myself up over every case I fail to solve.
Even the incident that sparked my original comment to Gil, the shooting of Syd Goggle, keeps me awake at night. I know that the regret would be stronger if I hadn't done it, if Gil had died. But I took a man's life. I wouldn't be human if that didn't affect me, despite my claims.
So, work it out. Add it all up. That's a lot of hours of lost sleep. A whole lot of regret eating me up inside. It's all caused by my tendency to act first and think later. It's a destructive personality trait and I wonder if this time it may have dealt it's most terrible blow yet.
I have been lying on my back staring up at the dark ceiling for over an hour, just thinking. Now I force myself to roll over in bed and face the man sleeping beside me.
For many, many years I resisted my attraction to Gil Grissom. I listened only to my doubts, anticipating the regret I would feel after the fact if I were given the opportunity to act on my fantasies. For once I thought before I acted and ironically, it's this that I regret the most.
Last night he confessed to his feelings for me. I have suspected that he may have felt the same way about me as I do about him for a long time, but I chose to ignore it for fear of entangling myself in another mistake. But once he found the courage to open his heart to me, something, which I believe, he has never done before, to anybody, I found myself powerless to resist any longer. I gave into my desires and… fuck… it was fantastic. Looking back, my only regret is that I didn't act sooner.
I breathe a sigh of relief and feel my entire body relax. In his sleep Gil reaches out and takes my hand in his. I know I'm not going to have any trouble sleeping tonight.
Spoilers: Some reference to 'Strip Strangler'.
A/N: Wow. It's been ages since I've written anything. Major writers block I guess. This story is pretty dark, although it cheers up a bit at the end. It's written from Catherine's point of view. As always please read and review. Thanx.
"Never doubt. Never look back. That's how I live my life." My own words run through my head. Haunting me. It was a brave statement. Untrue, but impressive all the same. It's the way I wish I lived my life, rather than the way I actually do.
I constantly replay every mistake I make in my head. I regularly have trouble sleeping, because I can't stop myself from thinking about every moment that I regret. I hate it, but I can't help it.
It's been this way since I was a teenager. You know how it is when you go out with your friends, to a party or whatever and you get drunk, completely wasted. When you wake up the next morning you feel absolutely shit. You think back over the night before and realize that some of your memories are seriously fuzzy. Memories of relatively insignificant things hat you take for granted, like dancing or the cab ride home. However, you do remember every major event, including, annoyingly, the ones you would rather forget. Things like trying to kiss your ex, smoking when you swore that you never would or saying stupid things to your friends. Afterwards, when it's too late to change things, you would claim that you would never drink again, but it never lasted. Those were the sorts of things that kept me awake at night as a teenager. Maybe those events aren't so common for everyone, but I always had a reckless streak that my conscience couldn't keep in check, so we're talking lots of lost sleep here.
Now that I'm older the regrets of my younger self seem trivial. Not worth the hours of lost sleep. But I still lie awake for hours, looking back, doubting my own actions.
I have regretted every hit of cocaine I ever took, every item of clothing I removed on stage. I've hated myself for every time I stayed when Eddie hit me, for not realizing that he was cheating on me. I'm drowning in self-doubt over my abilities as a mother. I constantly worry that I may be damaging Lindsey by never being there for her. I beat myself up over every case I fail to solve.
Even the incident that sparked my original comment to Gil, the shooting of Syd Goggle, keeps me awake at night. I know that the regret would be stronger if I hadn't done it, if Gil had died. But I took a man's life. I wouldn't be human if that didn't affect me, despite my claims.
So, work it out. Add it all up. That's a lot of hours of lost sleep. A whole lot of regret eating me up inside. It's all caused by my tendency to act first and think later. It's a destructive personality trait and I wonder if this time it may have dealt it's most terrible blow yet.
I have been lying on my back staring up at the dark ceiling for over an hour, just thinking. Now I force myself to roll over in bed and face the man sleeping beside me.
For many, many years I resisted my attraction to Gil Grissom. I listened only to my doubts, anticipating the regret I would feel after the fact if I were given the opportunity to act on my fantasies. For once I thought before I acted and ironically, it's this that I regret the most.
Last night he confessed to his feelings for me. I have suspected that he may have felt the same way about me as I do about him for a long time, but I chose to ignore it for fear of entangling myself in another mistake. But once he found the courage to open his heart to me, something, which I believe, he has never done before, to anybody, I found myself powerless to resist any longer. I gave into my desires and… fuck… it was fantastic. Looking back, my only regret is that I didn't act sooner.
I breathe a sigh of relief and feel my entire body relax. In his sleep Gil reaches out and takes my hand in his. I know I'm not going to have any trouble sleeping tonight.