Title: Cat on the Wall
By: lewis771750
Pairing: Cath/Sara
Challenge: PJ Harvey titles.
Rating: I'm guessing at R to NC-17.
Disclaimer: Not mine, Jerry and the people at CBS would never be quite this twisted:) But it is all just for fun, honest.
Spoilers: none
Words: 405
AN: AU: Long term injury to one character. I would describe this drabble as bittersweet at best, or fluffy-angst if you prefer.

***

I wake up sweating and terrified. Today is the 10th anniversary of Catherine's injury, and the nightmare is coming back. I was barely conscious when Reynolds broke her back over the wall, having first clubbed me across the back of the head. Today I'm reliving that moment in my nightmares too.

My lithe, vivacious, happy Kitty-Cat was changed, apparently instantly, into a bitter, self-loathing woman in a wheelchair.

I could hear and feel Cath twitching in the depths of the same nightmare that has woken her every morning for the last 3653: the groan as I came too followed by our eyes meeting, then that sickening crunch when she lost the use of her legs forever. This time I was already awake. I reached out and pulled her to me so that when she woke up she'd quickly realise where she was and remember my love for her.

For some months after it happened she tried hard to drive me away, telling me to go out and find someone who wasn't useless. I stayed, affirming I was where I wanted to be, with the woman I loved. She believes me now, mostly.

She loves me back, and through the pain and misery she remembers to show me that everyday, but she knows how hard she makes it sometimes. I don't blame her; she lives with the pain of her injuries, the loss of her mobility and the loss of her dreams of our life together. We do have a life together, but it isn't the one either of us thought we would have. It doesn't match those silly conversations we had in our first days together, but life never quite works out like that does it? In our case it isn't even close.

As Catherine wakes she has tears in her eyes and her throat is working as she tries not to scream like she did that day. Most days she manages not to scream now, but today the anniversary has made the memory that much sharper and she screams into my shoulder as I hold her to me. Quietly, she thanks me for being there.

We kiss and plan the day to include the one thing we *have* to do. A silly ritual, one Lindsey started, putting a toy cat on our garden wall for whoever wants it. It makes the associations of a cat on a wall at least a little bit positive.

***