Entering deeper into the cabin Catherine sent a silent thanks to the owners for already putting the heating on. There was still a chill in the air but the old heating system had taken the edge off slightly, making the quiet building a little more welcoming. Turning to her left Catherine scanned her eyes over what would be considered the lounge, her eyes lingering a moment on the large stone fireplace dominating the far wall. Removing her gloves she dropped them onto the narrow console table beside the door along with the key and her grey woolen hat. Opting to leave her coat on for a while longer she made her way into the room, her investigators mind quickly taking stock of the space. A large sofa spread out in front of her facing the fireplace, along the wall to the left as she stepped further into the space ran an old wooden sideboard with a record player open on top. Running her hand over the varnished wood she stepped around the couch continuing her observations. On the right of the fire facing towards the sofa at an angle sat a large overstuffed cream armchair, a small round table beside it. Her eyes skipped over the chair to the walls either side of the fireplace and the rows upon rows of shelves rising from floor to ceiling. Books adorned most of the shelves interspersed with trinkets and the odd piece of artwork. She sidestepped the low wooden coffee table and crossed the room to the open double doors leading into the small kitchen. She once again scanned her eyes over the space. It was definitely in need of an update with its faded white linoleum flooring, old brown cabinets and white countertop. The stove was an old gas one, something you'd expect to see in an old farmhouse in the sticks. The fridge hummed in the corner, the yellowing cream colour also indicating its age. A few short steps and she was across the kitchen passing the door to the backyard and entering into the dining room. Once again the room was small but adequate. A round wooden table dominated the center of the room, something she doubted would get much use whilst she was here. Passing through the room without taking much interest she exited through the opposite doorway and found herself back in the main foyer. She'd done a complete loop of the downstairs in less than ten minutes.
Her eyes fell on the wooden staircase leading to the upper floor, running her hand along the rustic wooden rail she climbed up the stairs. Two doors met her at the top, one to the right open to reveal a small bathroom. A white clawfoot tub lay under the large window causing visions of her lay in said tub with mountains of bubbles to fill her mind. Turning her attention to the other door she opened it to reveal a large bedroom.
Flipping the light on she was surprised to see the floor to ceiling window dominating the wall opposite. Gasping softly Catherine stepped into the room, her feet moving almost carefully so as not to disturb the peace. The wall opposite the windows was dominated by a large wooden bed covered in soft cream bedding trimmed with lace. Pillows piled high against the headboard.
"Now this I could get used to." She murmured as she ran her hand along the smaller fireplace, her eyes taking in the room. It was decorated in soft creams accented with varying shades of browns and golds.
After her tour of the cabin she tackled the task of unpacking her belongings. A job that managed to warm her cold body causing her to finally remove her coat and drop it onto the chair tucked away in the corner. Using her foot she pushed her now empty suitcase under the bed, brushed her hands over her rumpled clothes and once again gazed around the room.
"Well this is it."
She was suddenly very aware of how alone she was. Wrapping her arms around her slim waist she padded downstairs. The silence was almost suffocating in its intensity. She could feel the bitter sting of tears threatening to fall as she sank into the armchair, tucking her legs under herself she finally let them fall.
It had been coming for a long time but she had refused to let it happen. She had refused to break down over the many mistakes she had made over the last 2 years. She had refused to let anyone see her heartbreak. But now, here in this dark, cold place, she allowed all the pent up emotions to flow. Sobs wracked her body as she hugged her stomach with one arm, the other pressing her hand to her mouth.
Nobody, not even her own family, knew how she truly felt. A feat made easier by the many miles she had put between them when she had moved to Quantico. It was easier to hide over the phone, she knew if they saw her in person they would instantly know something was wrong. She was a shadow of her former self.
She had told everyone, including her old colleagues, that she was happy. That she loved her new job and everything that came with it. They all believed she was happy and content in her new life. But that was all a big fat lie.
The truth was she hadn't moved on from what had happened in Vegas. She was miserable.
She hated her new job and all the stuck up their own asses agents who were more interested in career progression than the victims. She missed being in the lab piecing together the evidence to nail the guy, she missed the challenge of figuring it all out. Sure her new job had its share of challenges but it wasn't the same. And she was sick of being shot down by some chauvinistic prick whenever she offered her opinion. One in particular insisted on calling her princess every time he spoke to her despite her having years of experience on him.
In short they didn't care what she had to say or the fact her intellect far outweighed most of theirs. The Catherine of old would have chewed their asses out for treating her as such but now, after everything, she didn't have the fight in her anymore.
Each time it happened it chipped away a little more of her delicate soul. She was broken and she didn't know which direction to turn. Everything she had ever cared about was gone. Even her daughter had grown up and was living her own life. She had nobody.
Wiping her eyes furiously she stood and made her way to the kitchen, recalling seeing a bottle of wine on the counter with a welcome note. She opened cupboards searching for anything she could use to drink out of, the first thing being an old chipped mug. She glugged wine into it with every intention of drowning her sorrows. Something she was becoming quite adept in.
Forty minutes later and an almost empty bottle of wine she quietly scanned the books on the shelves, her fingers ghosting over the spines as her eyes skimmed the titles not actually taking in what she was reading. She downed the rest of the mug and felt that happy, fuzzy buzz in her head letting her know that she was well on her way to achieving her goal. Logic told her the rate she was drinking the alcohol and the fact she hadn't eaten since that morning wasn't a good combination. But logic was overruled by emotion and so she poured another mug full.
Her pity party continued to the bedroom where she stripped to her underwear and climbed into the bed, her body thrumming with the alcohol intake. Closing her eyes she willed the room to stop spinning as she sank further under the covers. Sleep eventually pulled her into its grasp. A pile of rumpled clothes messily strewn beside the bed, an inch of wine left in the bottle on the bedside table and the stale smell of vomit wafting from the bathroom being the only indicators of her pitiful night.