| Title: An Innocent Woman By: TriplePirouette Category: GSR UST Spoilers: Up to and including Butterflied Disclaimer: They're not mine- I'm a poor college student having fun... take pity... Distribution: please ask first :) Summary: Post-ep for Butterflied "You know you only hurt yourself out of spite/I guess you'd rather be a martyr tonight..." -An Innocent Man, Billy Joel Author's Notes: Special thanks to Marlou for the speed beta! Feedback PLEASE at: TriplePirouettePhile@hotmail.com I love anything constructive! Blatant flames, however, will be disregarded and used to roast s'mores.... Also, anyone trying to deny the G/S ship after this episode will be burned at the stake for heresy. ;) In the nicest possible way, of course. ~~~~~~~~~~ Damn him. Just when I thought I could work with him again... just when I was ready to move on, finally understanding that all his flirting was nothing more than that... I have to overhear this now... ~~~~~~~~~~ I roam the halls of CSI looking for him, trembling inside. No one's said anything, but I now know why he kept me out of that crime scene. It was like looking into a mirror, and it was frightening. I used to have nightmares like that: we'd be investigating a murder and they'd all be ignoring me, so I'd start working on my own. I'd walk into the morgue to look at the body, and she'd be me. I'd wake up in cold sweats, screaming. I told myself it was the death wish imagined, me facing my own mortality now that I was faced with death nearly every day. That didn't make them go away. And now I'm afraid to go to sleep. I don't know what I'm going to say to Grissom when I find him. Part of me wants to chew him out for keeping me from the crime scene, and part of me wants to thank him for trying to guard me from the sight of my doppelganger lying prone on the floor in her own blood. I wander the halls for a few more minutes, not finding him, as the fear and uncertainty in the pit of my stomach only makes my thoughts less coherent. I turn around and head to check with Jacqui about the toe prints, pushing the thoughts from my head, but still terrified that they'll surface later. ~~~~~~~~~~ The suspect, his lawyer, and Brass are long gone. I can't do anything more than stand here and stare at the defeated man through the glass. He doesn't know I'm here. It's probably better that way. He never would have said those things if he knew I was here. While Gil Grissom had been many things to me throughout my life, the idea of him sitting there acting like a ghost of the man I once knew was never something I had imagined him to be. His words were sad, deeply felt, and almost pathetic. That's not who he is. It can't be. I've cried in front of him several times. I never thought I'd see him shed a tear. I fight the misting in my own eyes as I see a single drop run down his tired face. He swipes it away and quickly collects his things, practically running out of there. I move to the door and watch him disappear down the hall to his office. I slide out of the room almost conspiratorially, and make my way to the locker room. It's past the end of shift. He'll be going home, and so will I. Just when I was ready to try to move on, when I had finally convinced myself that he didn't feel anything for me, he has to go and make that confession. He's put himself in purgatory, and now he's lost his way out. I want to run to him, tell him, show him that he's wrong; that he can be happy. But he doesn't know that I heard what he said, and there's the chance that he'd still turn me down. I don't know if I could deal with that again. Damn him. ~~~~~~~~~~ I had to get out of my house: every time I tried to look in the mirror, or at a picture of me, I saw her. I saw me. I'm exhausted, but can't sleep, so I find myself driving through the evening streets of Vegas, flipping through the radio and trying to make the images in my mind go away. Unbidden, the thoughts won't go away. So I finally indulge them, hoping that will purge them from me. I wonder what he thought when he saw her lying there? What he felt? What he was thinking when he saw the man that did it? What he's thinking now? My thoughts can't stray from Grissom, and I feel myself getting more upset. My stomach's churning, my hand shaking on the wheel. I need to stop this. I can't do this right now, it's too much: knowing that he feels for me, but won't let himself act on it, seeing him in pain, seeing someone who looks like she could be my twin lying cold and dead... I reach down and flip on the CD player, turning the volume up and hitting the random button, not even really remembering what disc I have in there. The quiet strains of one of my favorite songs starts up, and I hum along. Some people stay far away from the door If there's a chance of it opening up They hear a voice in the hall outside And hope that it just passes by At first my hand shoots out to turn it off, but I stop and leave it on. Some people live with the fear of a touch And the anger of having been a fool They will not listen to anyone So nobody tells them a lie Damn it, Grissom. I can't get away from you, can I? I know you're only protecting yourself I know you're thinking of somebody else Someone who hurt you But I'm not above Making up for the love You've been denying you could ever feel I'm not above doing anything To restore your faith if I can Some people see through the eyes of the old Before they ever get a look at the young I'm only willing to hear you cry Because I am an innocent man I am an innocent man Oh yes I am Some people say they will never believeAnother promise they hear in the dark Because they only remember too well They heard somebody tell them before Denying the love he could feel... god, that's Grissom. His words replay themselves in my mind: "We wake up one day and realize that for 50 years we haven't really lived at all. Then all of a sudden, we get a second chance. Somebody young and beautiful shows up, somebody we could care about. She offers us a new life with her. But we have a big decision to make, right? Because we have to risk everything we've worked for to have her. I couldn't do it." Damn it Grissom, why couldn't you? Why can't you let yourself be happy? Some people sleep all alone every night Instead of taking a lover to bed Some people find that it's easier to hate Than to wait anymore I know you don't want to hear what I say I know you're gonna keep turning away But I've been there and if I can survive I can keep you alive I'm not above going through it again I've not above being cool for a while If you're cruel to me I'll understand Suddenly I wonder if he's seen what this has done to me. I wonder if from his perch in purgatory he can see the hell he's created for me. And even more so now; his confession weighing heavily on my mind as a secret I alone must bear. I can feel the flames surround me, licking higher than they had before. Now not only do I feel for him, but he feels for me. But we still can't be together. And he doesn't know I know. I wonder how long I can stay in this hell before it consumes me. But I can't leave him now. I saw his face in that interrogation room as he talked, and it was plain as day that the idea of the loss of love was what kept him not just from me, but from anyone. To walk away now, knowing what I know, would be cruel. You know you only hurt yourself out of spite I guess you'd rather be a martyr tonight That's your decision But I'm not below Anybody I knowIf there's a chance of resurrecting a love I'm not above going back to the start To find out where the heartache began Some people hope for a miracle cure Some people just accept the world as it is But I'm not willing to lay down and die Because I am an innocent man I am a innocent woman here, and I won't lay down and die. I need to fight, but I'm not sure how. I don't even know if he will let me. I just know I can't leave him. Not now, and not after what I heard. I turn back into my apartment complex, and reluctantly head back for my apartment. I know I won't sleep well, maybe not at all. She will haunt me, as will he. But I have a reason to go to work tonight: he needs me. He possibly more than I need him. He needs me more than I ever thought was possible. Maybe there's a chance here. For what? I don't know. But maybe, just maybe, there's a chance. Read the Companion/Sequel "A Shameless Man" Home CSI E-Mail Me |