Um... third installment. And I'm sorry it's taken so long, and I'm also sorry that the next few chapters are going to take a while. My CSI: NY muse is, for lack of a better term, dead right now. Uh... song is Crutch by Matchbox Twenty (from the album Mad Season); with thanks to delgaserasca for the beta.
CRUTCH.
---
Dig
a little deeper and you'll realize:
All
I'm building up, you're tearing down.
---
Dig deeper, he urges, a hint of sarcasm, a wry smile threatening to upturn his lips. She's standing before his desk, yelling; he loves the sound of her voice, she tells him to get over himself, to leave his office once in a blue moon, perhaps he'll see that there's still semi-intelligent life outside of the four walls.
She's exhausted, he would be too, after working a week of double shifts; he's not entire sure she's completely sober, either. There are walls he builds up, she tells him, and they close him off from the world, the world that didn't end, the world that is still evolving. He's stubborn; she continues her tirade, throwing her arms out in wild gestures.
He feels himself beginning to slip; slowly, he stands, lifts his coat from the hook in the wall and flicks off the light, stepping around her.
Dig deeper, he urges. The walls are made for you to break.