Fear and Hatred
June 23rd, 2004
She officially hated waking up.
Not that there was any specific problem with it, but it seemed that every time she did she awoke with a headache. Catherine tried to move and groaned loudly. She hurt! It took her mind mere seconds to process what had happened and to take a mental inventory of her injuries. She sighed. Her ankle was throbbing, probably the one she'd managed to get out the door, and her arm burned and itched. She opened her eyes slowly; careful with the light that she knew was inevitable. She could hear the beeping of the machines in the background and wanted to scream. She never wanted to be in a hospital ever again, unless it was for a happy occasion. She wasn't afraid of them, no siree, she just disliked the sterile whiteness that attacked at every corner.
Yup. She hated hospitals.
Once she got herself oriented with the hospital room, where the bathroom was, where the door was and the man that was sleeping by the window. She allowed her eyes to close again, falling into the sleep the drip in her arm provided her.
Yup. She hated hospitals.
-
When Grissom woke up, allowing his eyes time to adjust to the fluorescent lighting of the hospital and reminding himself he was there, the first thing he did was check on Catherine. She was asleep, again or still he couldn't tell, and he knew she'd be mad at him for staying and sleeping by the window…
But he loved her.
The sane part of his body regretted it completely as his sore neck could attest, but the other part, the part that was head over heels for the woman lying in the bed, had him stay and curl up as best he could in a hospital chair. It had taken him a while to fall asleep without her in his arms. He continued to watch her sleep, marvelling at the beauty he was fortunate enough to have love him like he loved her.
Yup. He loved her.
-
The next time Catherine found herself withdrawing out of dreamland she felt like she was being watched. Actually, she knew she was. She confirmed it when she opened her eyes and found herself staring into concerned blue pools.
"Morning, sunshine," he said softly. She managed to smile despite the pain that was throbbing in her arm.
"What…" she rasped. Then clearing her throat tried again, "what happened?"
"Do you remember anything?" Catherine smile ironically.
"A big bang," she quipped. Grissom smiled. At least she still had her sense of humour.
"I was in the house, just having cleared the ground floor, making sure there was nothing of interest, and had started up the stairs. That's when I heard the ticking. Automatically I knew what it was so I ran. Obviously, I didn't quite make it out of the house. Then I was flying. I guess I blacked out when I landed because I don't remember any real pain." She winced as she moved her leg.
"You feel it now," Grissom said with a soft smile. Catherine sighed heavily.
"How long to the doctors want to keep me?" she asked. Grissom caught on to the unasked question. Were they still getting married in two weeks?
"They want you on crutches for six weeks, just until that ankle heals up and the cast on for four." Tears sprung to Catherine's eyes.
"Sweetheart, we're still going to get married. We're just going to have to postpone it, that's all," he said softly, wiping at the tears. She nodded, taking a moment to compose herself before determination shone in her face.
"When are they letting me out?"
-
June 31st, 2004
Grissom should have known that Catherine would not confine herself to their house. She was a determined, strong woman – both qualities he loved her for – and in this case, it had become a double-edged sword. Catherine insisted on being helpful in the case. She'd badgered him endlessly to allow her into the lab until he finally complied, but limited her to lab duty only. That was how he found himself looking over her shoulder at crime scene pictures.
"I liked the sister for this," she said softly. Grissom agreed with a squeeze of her shoulders.
"Have we determined who the target was?"
"We assumed it was Sharon," she answered in a tone of voice that told him she thought he was being stupid.
"Let's look at it from a different angle," he suggested in reply, allowing the comment and tone to pass. She'd been on edge with her injuries.
"As in?"
"What if Sharon wasn't the target? At least, not completely."
"What are you trying to get at?"
"Jenna worked for the husband at one point, we got that from her records."
"You say it in the past tense. What happened?"
"She quit."
"Why?"
"Cited personal reasons. There were no specifics."
"You think her quitting had something to do with—" she waved her hands looking for the right word.
"She quit three days before Mrs Kyriacos said she got her wedding invitation." Catherine's eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"You think Jenna was sleeping with the boss," she stated. Grissom wrinkled his nose, characteristically disgusted at Catherine's bluntness and boldness. She grinned at his embarrassment.
"Watch it, Miss Willows," he growled in her ear. "To my knowledge, you're doing the same thing." She smirked at him over her shoulder. His pager beeped, giving him a welcome moment to compose himself.
He didn't want to… ahem … in the lab after all.
"Brass. Livvie says she's ready to talk about that night," Grissom answered her silent question. Catherine nodded and stood, bracing herself for the hop to her crutches.
"Catherine…"
"I'm a mother, Gil. Let me handle Livvie," she half pleaded with him. She was beginning to feel horribly useless around the lab and CSI in general. He looked her over carefully.
The swelling in her ankle had gone down somewhat since she was allowed out of the hospital five days after the explosion and she had been complaining less and less about her arm, though more and more about the annoying restriction of crutches. He'd humoured her throughout, chalking her unhappiness to being next to an invalid.
Reluctantly, he agreed.
Chapter 12 is coming, then the end of the story, I'm hoping by fifteen.
Kavi Leighanna