Gil carefully stripped down to his boxers, and slid into bed beside Catherine. He spooned himself against her so that he was holding her gently around the waist.
"You came back," she whispered.
Gil pressed a gentle kiss to her neck. "I promised I would. And I've never made a promise to you that I couldn't keep."
"Today was bad."
"We've had worse. And we've dealt with worse."
"I love you."
Gil smiled. "I know, baby. I love you too."
Catherine turned around in his arms, facing him. Her fingers traced his face, smiling as she thought of how she would love him for the rest of her life.
"What is it?" Gil whispered, watching her touch him.
"I feel safer, here with you, than I did in that courtroom today."
Gil smiled back at her, his hand caressing her cheek. "That's what I aim to do every day, sweetheart. It makes me happier when I know you feel safe with me."
"I always am."
"I wouldn't have let him hurt you in there, you know that, right?" Gil cupped her face. "He would never have gotten the chance."
Catherine nodded. "I know." She shifted closer, feeling more comfortable when his hand slipped around her waist, holding her tight against him. "Sam was there."
"Did that bother you?"
"I thought it would. But it didn't. It was kind of…nice to think that he cared enough to come."
Gil gently caressed her hip. "A lot of people care about you, Catherine."
Her fingers trailed down his chest. "I know."
"Can I kiss you?" he asked, not wanting to push her. He wanted to touch her, make sure she was real, assure her that he would always be there for her.
She smiled and nodded, her eyes locking onto his until the last moment, when his lips gently brushed against hers.
Her arms wound around his neck, fingers stroking the nape of his neck as the kiss continued.
When the kiss ended, her arms stayed around his neck, and his hands went around her waist. The moved closer, until her head rested on Gil's chest.
"Sleep, sweetheart," he whispered. "I'll take care of you."
Lindsey puttered around in the kitchen the next morning, cleaning and making breakfast. There was no sign of life from her mother's room, and she wanted her mother to get as much rest as possible.
"Morning, Lindsey," Gil said, coming into the kitchen. His eyes widened when he saw the spotless room and the breakfast table set. "Lindsey?"
She turned around, smiling at him. "Morning, Uncle Gil. I made breakfast. I wanted to help out."
Gil immediately put his arms around the girl, hugging her tight to him. "Thank you."
"Can't…breathe…Uncle…Gil…"
Gil sheepishly let her go. "Sorry, sweetheart. It's just…what you've done to help me and your mom has been so amazing."
"All I did was make breakfast."
"No. You've been so helpful and supportive to your mother and I, and I know this whole situation must have been very hard on you."
"I just wish it had never happened. Mom doesn't deserve that to happen to her."
"You're right, she doesn't. And I wish it had never happened too. But the lucky thing is, that your mom is starting to get better. And although we had a setback yesterday, she's going to get through this."
Lindsey nodded. "Okay."
"Hi, you two," Catherine murmured, coming into the kitchen. "Wow. The kitchen looks great."
"Lindsey did it all," Gil told her. "And made breakfast."
Catherine walked over to her daughter and hugged her tightly. "Thank you, Linds. You have no idea how much this means. I love you."
Lindsey smiled as she hugged her mother back. "It's okay, mom. I want to help. And I love you too."
Gil walked into the bathroom where Catherine was taking a shower. He closed the door behind him so he kept the heat in.
Catherine poked her head around the shower door. "You want in?"
He tilted his head to the side. "You okay with that?"
She nodded and went back into the shower.
Gil got undressed and slipped in behind her, taking the cloth and soap from her hands. "Let me," he whispered.
"Thank you," she smiled.
"How are you doing today?" Gil asked, lathering up the cloth.
"I'm fine."
"Yesterday was rough."
"I snapped. The lawyers were arguing and…" Catherine's eyes closed as Gil gently soaped up her back, the cloth gliding over her skin. "That feels good…"
"Anyone in your position would have snapped, Catherine. Rinse time."
Catherine held her eyes shut as Gil moved her under the flowing water, rinsing off the suds.
"I had to. He just…he got me so angry," Catherine said, when she came out of the water and opened her eyes again.
"Anyone in that situation would have been angry, Cath." He looked at her. "You're not to be upset about what happened in that room. I was proud of you."
Her eyes widened. "You're proud of me?"
He cupped her face. "Catherine, I've always been proud of you. I've always admired you. You're my hero."
"I…" Catherine stopped talking and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "I love you. God, I love you."
Lindsey rapped on the bathroom door. "If you use up all the hot water again, I won't be responsible for my actions!"
Alone in the bedroom while Gil took Lindsey to school, Catherine stood naked in front of her mirror. Starting from the face down, she took stock of herself. ATR, she called it. After the Rape.
All physical marks on her face had healed. But if she looked close enough, she could see where he had hit her and where he had pressed the gun against her face. Sometimes she swore she could even feel his lips pressing on hers, bruising and making her feel nauseous.
Her neck had also healed, and any signs that Dale Graves had tried and succeeded in giving her several unpleasant hickeys supposedly healing with it. Catherine had learnt that just because the physical signs weren't there, it didn't mean she couldn't feel them.
Her eyes moved to her breasts. Sometimes, in the dark, when Gil's arms were around her, and absently moved to rest on one, she could almost believe that nothing had ever happened. That Dale Graves' hands had never been on them causing incredible pain.
Her hands rested on her stomach, where he had punched and hit her. She bit her lip, eyes going lower as she thought of how that first push he had made inside her had hurt.
"I'm home!" came Gil's voice.
She heard him come up the stairs, but didn't move. Her eyes never left the sight of her body in the mirror. The body she had allowed get raped. The body she had allowed to be brutalized.
It was her body. And she had been powerless to protect it.
Gil stood silently in the doorway, his eyes watching her. Part of him wished he knew what was going on in her mind…but the other part of him already knew. This was critical Catherine. The side of Catherine he knew was often kept in check, but had been unleashed in full force since the attack.
He could see her body, and to him, it was the most beautiful thing in the world. He had once joked, late at night, in the darkness when they were curled up together, that her body was the "eighth wonder of the world'. She had giggled, fingers tickling his chest as she told him that he wasn't too bad himself.
There was no giggling Catherine now.
Catherine knew he was watching her. She knew that no matter how many times he heard what had happened, that he couldn't see it. Couldn't see the filth, the despair and the pain that lurked beneath her skin. The bruises that only she could see now.
A tear slipped down her face, wanting to just go back. Back to when things were easier and she could look at herself and say, "not bad for forty-two, Catherine".
Now she just looked at herself and said, "what did you do?"
Gil had planned to give her time. Let her run through things in her head. There were many things in the world that Gil couldn't stand. Child molesters, men who hit their wives.
But the one that that hurt him, that shook him deep to the core, was tears upon Catherine Willows' face.
He strode over to her, his arms gently going around her waist.
"I wish I could read your mind," he whispered. "Then I might know what to say."
"There's nothing to say," Catherine replied, her eyes falling to the floor. "He's there. On every part of my body he's there. No one else can see it except me. But that's a good thing. I don't want anyone else to see it. Then they'll know."
"Know what?" he murmured.
"This woman allowed herself to be raped and brutalized. In her past life, she was a stripper and a coke junkie, so she's a whore who was asking for it."
"Catherine…" He turned her to face him. "Don't ever call yourself that again. It's not true. I never want to hear that word leaving your lips in reference to yourself. It's not true."
"Gil…"
"Promise me, Catherine. Promise me."
Her eyes looked up at him. "Help me."