Title: Hate, Rage, Anger
Summary: Cath deals with her anger
Spoilers: Justice is Served. This is kind of a continuation of Justice is Served.
Disclaimer: CSI does not belong to me.
Part one of one
Hate. Rage. Anger. Three things with which I am intimately and unfortunately acquainted. Before I became a CSI I didn't know it was possible to hate someone with every fiber of my being as I do now.
How anyone could kill their own child is unfathomable to me. I would sooner kill myself than my baby girl. Crimes against children make me the most hateful, as they should, they seem the most pointlessly violent. I would never give up my job, just knowing that I can make sure that some of those irresponsible, inconsiderate, horrible, terrible excuses for human beings behind bars or with a needle in their arm where they belong. That is what makes the job bearable.
Sure Eddie made me mad, and before him my mom, and other asshole boyfriends along the way. . . but that was small time mad. That was curl up in a little ball and hide mad. How I long for the days of that simple anger. The anger I feel now verges on hatred and the desire to stick that needle in their arms myself. If I were allowed to do that I would without any hesitation. You messed with your kid? You have to answer to Catherine Willows. She will find you. That is a promise.
My daughter is my life. She means the world to me. I would give her anything she wanted if I could. I would give it all to her. This is why I could never let her see me like this. It's written all over my face a million times. "HATE, RAGE, ANGER." I could never let her see this side of me. This side, which I myself, loathe and detest. It isn't anything I'm proud of. Yes, even less proud of my rage than my dancing days or my cocaine habit.
What can I do to make sure Lindsey never sees this side of me? The dark side of the moon, if you will. My dark side. It's a mixture between pitch black and blood red. It makes it hard to see clearly.
The light that cuts through the darkness lies ahead as I drive. There's only one way I've found that makes me better. Makes me presentable to my daughter. So she doesn't see this or, as in my worst nightmare, take the brunt of my ire. That would kill me.
I cut the engine. Jump out of the car. Ring the doorbell. Paul answers the door. "You got my call," he grins.
"It couldn't have come at a better time." I affirm.
He holds the door open for me. I step inside. He leans down and kisses me. Did he see the fire in my eyes? The desperation on my face? Does everyone? Does anyone? Does he have any idea what he's getting himself into? I daresay he doesn't. Nobody ever does. How could he guess? How could you exactly prepare for someone with vices like mine. Outside of the sadomasochism circle I have yet to find any man who could stand the heat for more than a month.
This Paul's first chance to get acquainted with the anti-Catherine. Within an hour I'll know if I still have a boyfriend or not. But within an hour I will be me again, presentable to the world and the people who matter to me.