Summary: Catherine turns to Gil after Eddie comes home drunk one night.
Rating: T, for domestic violence and language.
Notes: I have never done anything with Ed abusing Cath before...come to think of it, I don't think I have had Eddie in any of my fics, except in mentioning. Anyway, to the point. I hope it is good, as this is my first try at this type of fic.
Disclaimer: Song belongs to Alana Grace and a couple other rich people, not me. I don't own CSI either, as I am sure you already know.
-Turn My Black Roses Red-
He was drunk.
Again.
"You whore! Where were you when I was gone? Were you at his house again?"
Once again, Catherine felt the all too familiar sting of a hand coming in contact with her face. She attempted to block the next blow, but he was too strong. His hand struck her mouth, and she tasted the blood on her tongue.
"Answer me, you lying bitch!" Eddie roared, the slight slur of his voice making him not less, but somehow more, intimidating. She didn't bother answering. He wouldn't listen; he never did. To say anything would just make it worse.
Crouching down on the floor, and attempting to scramble away seemed to confuse him for a moment, but not long enough. Catherine felt his boot come into contact with her ribs, and her arms seemed to give out, allowing her already throbbing head to slap against the cold, hard tile. Then she just lay there, pretending to be knocked out, because it seemed that only then would he stop.
Luckily he did. She heard him spit, felt it hit the back of her head, and felt the gooey wetness seeping into her hair. She had to stop herself from gagging as she listened to his uneven footsteps as he staggered away. She waited there for several minutes, hoping, praying that Lindsey had stayed asleep this time. Then she remembered that Lindsey was at a friend's house tonight. Thank God. She did not need to know.
Catherine listened to the silence for several minutes before attempting to get up. Eddie had gone to pass out in their bedroom, just as he always did; if he even made it that far.
When she heard nothing but silence for several minutes, she decided it was safe. Catherine knew what she would do. She would do what she always did after these scenes that she dreaded so much. She would go to his house. Because unlike her husband, Gil Grissom cared about her.
Pulling up to Gil's townhouse twenty minutes later, Catherine breathed a sigh of relief. Somehow, the scene in front of her was a picture of a safe haven. A place where she was safe, warm, and happy. Everything she never felt when she was at that house she so reluctantly called home. She climbed out of the Denali, not even pausing to look in the mirror. He had seen her like this before, anyway; and she didn't want to know how bad it was this time. She knew it was getting worse.
Ringing the doorbell, Catherine waited on the front step, knowing that the door would be opening for her any minute.
It did, and she stood hesitantly still, not knowing exactly what his reaction would be, although she had come to him like this before.
"Cather..." His voice trailed off as he saw the bruises and the small trail of blood dribbling down the side of her mouth. His expression changed to one of compassion, worry, and disgust. Compassion and worry for her, disgust for what Eddie had done to her. "Again?"
Her eyes which had stayed dry this far suddenly filled. She nodded slowly as the tears started to escape, and he drew her inside and into his arms. He made her feel so loved, so cherished; so unlike she usually felt.
She was so thankful that he was her best friend. Without Gil in her life, Catherine didn't know what she would do.
The tears continued as she sobbed out all of the pain, the heartache, the fear. And then she cried some more.
Finally, her sobs subsided, and she took a few deep breaths. Pulling out of his arms, she made a sad attempt at cleaning up her face. He looked her face over thoroughly, frowning at the red marks that would later turn black and blue, covering the old bruises that had just now begun to fade.
"God, Cath. Why do you do it? Why do you stay?"
"I don't know." She said helplessly. "I really don't know. I don't love him anymore. I just...Maybe because of Lindsey? That's part of it. I mean...I don't know, Gil. I just don't know."
"Is it because you wouldn't have anywhere to stay? Because you could always stay here with me. We could-"
"And give Eddie concrete evidence to prove what he has thought all along?"
He looked puzzled.
"That we're having an affair. That...That's usually why he..."
His eyes widened.
"Are you serious? He really thinks that?"
She nodded.
"But why?"
"I don't know. He says that the way we look at each other is enough. That it's obvious when we're together..."
"Is it?"
His expression was blank when she snapped her head up to look at him.
"Is it what?"
"Obvious?"
"Is what obvious? We're not doing anything that we shouldn't be doing. I mean, we're just friends."
"The way I look at you. Is it that obvious?"
Catherine couldn't seem to breathe correctly, yet she still managed to speak, in a weak sort of voice.
"You...look at me?" She squeaked.
"How could I not look at you, Catherine? I love you. But you're a married woman. Much as I wish that you weren't, both for your sake -especially your sake- and mine, you are."
"You love me..." Catherine was overwhelmed by what he had just confessed. A dazed half smile covered her face.
"So it wasn't just me..."
"Catherine Willows, I never want to hear you say that again!" His violent response to her utterings startled her. Gil Grissom hardly ever raised his voice.
"The only reason that he...does what he does to you is because of his own shortcomings. Not yours. You understand me?"
Catherine shook her head for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.
"You're right, I know." She paused, searching for the right words. "It's just...hard, you know? Sometimes, there's the little voice in the back of my head, whispering that it's me at fault; that I deserve it because I don't love him like I know I should. Or sometimes that I'm not even loveable."
He shook his head.
"Catherine, it's not your fault, okay? Just get that into your head. It isn't even anyone's fault, that you don't; you can't choose who you love. If anyone is at fault, though, it would be Eddie, because he is the one that makes himself impossible to love. And as for you being unlovable; trust me. You aren't."
"You're right."
She smiled a smile that was tinged with sadness.
"Thanks, Gil. I needed that."
"Any time, Cath."
"And Gil?"
"Yes, Catherine?"
"Thanks...for telling me. You know that you-"
"You're welcome."
"I love you too."
"I know."
"I know. I just wanted to tell you."
"You do know that we will go on just as normal, even though we both know now. That this won't be mentioned again, as long as you're married."
"I know. I'm just glad that we aren't keeping secrets anymore."
He leaned down and gave her a kiss one her forehead; savoring as much of her as he could have, yet comforting her at the same time.
"Let's go get you cleaned up."
They headed toward the bathroom where he got her out a towel, and fetched her a t-shirt and sweatpants of his for her to sleep in, while she took a shower. When she was dried off and dressed, he helped her apply antiseptic to her face. She then took an aspirin for the bruise on her side, which was starting to turn a nasty shade, although no ribs had been broken.
Catherine sat in silence as he helped her with everything.
This man was her best friend. Her confidant. Her anchor to sanity. He cared about her and helped her when she needed it; even when she insisted that she didn't need it-especially then. She was so lucky to have him. Somehow, when she was with him, everything seemed better somehow; the world a better place. Which was strange, considering their job was where she saw him most of the time. But the fact remained that he was a very special person, and she was eternally grateful that he was her friend.
A few minutes later, when she was about ready to go to sleep in Gil's room, as he had insisted, he came into the room.
"Catherine, promise me you will file for divorce tomorrow. Please. Not for me, but for you and Lindsey."
Slowly, she nodded her head. Something had needed to be done for a long time, and she was finally going to do it.
"Will you come with me?" She asked meekly.
"If you asked me to, Catherine, I would kill that bastard for what he does to you." He said, teeth clenched in a very rare display of anger. "But yes, I will come with you."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Gil lingered a few seconds, then padded back to the living room couch, where he would be spending the night.
Catherine fell asleep peacefully that night, feeling better than she had in a long time.
~FIN