Garrett/Chelsea - A Moment of Temporary Insanity Never to Be Repeated
Title: A Moment of Temporary Insanity Never to be Repeated
Author: iluvroadrunner6
Rating: FRT
Characters: Garrett Masterson/Chelsea Carlson, John Benson
Content Warning: N/A
Summary: Chelsea doesn't know how she got here, but she's not going down without taking someone with her.
Author's Note: Oh, Chelsea. Umm--this has got angst up the wazoo, and Chelsea felt she needed a therapy session, and she was making me cry, and keeping me up until I wrote it. goddess_loki wrote a response piece with more of Garrett's reaction, After the Answers.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY. They're owned by CBS. Garrett is also not mine, he belongs to goddess_loki. However, I do own Eva and all other original characters, so please don't steal them.
She has no idea how she got to his apartment.
It was like she blacked out and her feet started moving of their own accord. She was pretty sure there was a cab ride involved, and she prayed to God that she paid the driver, but the first conscious thought she had after leaving John’s apartment was when she was staring the new girlfriend in the face and she realized what she had just done with really no reason why. She just stared blankly at this woman-this gorgeous woman, God, what the fuck was she doing here?-and tried to make her mouth work and words come out.
“Can I help you?” the girlfriend asked-probably for the second time, she wasn’t sure-and Chelsea only stood there for a minute, before shaking her head.
“No, sorry,” she shook her head quickly. “Wrong floor.”
The woman eyed her suspiciously, and Chelsea knew that there was a slim to none chance that that little lie had flown with her. She just gave the woman a small smile before turning and walking away. She didn’t get far before she heard another voice in the doorway.
“Who is it?”
She froze for all of a split second, probably not long enough to be noticeable-that’s what she hoped anyway. She changed her plan slightly, and instead of heading towards the elevator she made a beeline for the stairs, hoping to just pass herself off as another crazy New Yorker lost in her own little world.
“I don’t know. Said she was on the wrong floor.”
There was a long silence and she didn’t look back to see if he had seen her, just kept walking until she reached the stairwell door. Once she slipped behind it, she broke out into a full out run, trying to put as much distance between her and him as possible. She was about a flight and a half away when she heard the door open above her and his voice calling after her.
“Chelsea?”
Then she tripped. She’s not sure on what, but she tripped on something, missed the last few steps, and tumbled onto the landing, knocking the air from her lungs. It took her a few seconds before she was breathing again, and the effort to do that shattered the last bit of control she had. Tears started to roll and she pulled herself into the corner of the landing, burying her face in her knees. She faintly heard the footsteps above her, but didn’t look up when they stopped, not wanting to see him.
“Chels-you OK?” She could hear the frown in his voice, and felt him reach for her. She shoved his hands away, just pulling her legs closer to her chest, hoping she could disappear. She heard him step back, and sit on the edge of the stairs.
“Chelsea-what are you doing here?”
“To hell if I know,” she whispered back. There was a long silence-an awkward one at that-and then he spoke up again.
“John said you were in Seattle.”
“I was,” she sighed, “until Friday. A part came up so I decided to come back.” She started to look up at this point, wiping away the tears and leaning her head back against the wall. “Besides-it didn’t suit me much anyway. Too much rain.”
Silence again. He wanted to know what she was doing here-she knew that-and she knew somewhere deep down she had an answer for him, but she wasn’t there yet.
“Where are you staying?”
“With John. Probably didn’t tell you because he thought it would be easier. Probably didn’t think I’d be an idiot enough to come here myself.”
“Chelsea-”
He didn’t finish the sentence, and she wasn’t sure it was because he was chastising her for calling herself an idiot, or because he thought she already knew the question. Considering the way she had ended things, it was probably the latter. She shook her head before starting to get up and continue on her way down the stairs again. She made it to the edge of the landing before he stopped her.
“Where are you going?”
“Away. Somewhere not her so I don’t ruin your perfect little happily ever after any more than I already have.” There was so much bit in her voice that she almost didn’t recognize it, and she didn’t have to see him recoiling from her to know that it had happened. She didn’t know why she was so angry, but she didn’t have the strength to reign it in anymore-to much wasted energy on tears and grief. “What the hell are you doing down here with me anyway?”
She turned to him, full on, and looked him in the eye for the first time since she had left him. She could tell that he didn’t know what to do with what she was giving him. He watched her for a minute, before responding, almost as though he wasn’t sure if he should say something.
“I just wanted-”
“What, you wanted answers? Want to know why I left?”
He didn’t say anything, just watched her, almost scared of what she was going to do next. He nodded slowly, probably not really wanting the answer, but just going with whatever she said. She could feel something inside her boiling, and she knew she wasn’t angry with him-out of all the boyfriends she had ever had, he was probably the only one who actually treated her decently. The anger she was feeling was probably most likely directed at herself, for screwing things up so amazingly for herself that she was now drowning with no way out.
“There was another guy. There was another guy and he was so in my head that I couldn’t stop thinking about him no matter where I was, who I was with, what I was doing. I didn’t even know his damn name, all that mattered was he wasn’t you. God, you know how much like shit I felt, thinking about him and then coming home to you? Probably worse than I do right now, and right now?-I’m feeling pretty fuckin’ shitty.”
She didn’t know what she was doing, why she was doing it. This definitely was not the reason why she had came here-she never would have come with here with the intention of hurting him-but she wanted someone to hurt like she was, and he was the closest punching bag at the moment. Now she was slinging lies mixed with truths, and she was too far gone to remember ones she was just using as a weapon and which ones were her actually feelings.
“Chelsea-” She could tell the word he wanted to stick on the end of her name was ‘stop’-tell her to just go home, before she did any more damage, but she couldn’t. Not now. She had never been one to stop halfway and leave it at that. For her, it was either go big or go home and today? She was definitely going big.
“And you wanna know the reason why I’m here? Because you’re probably the last good thing I had before my entire life went to shit. I had you, I had my best friend, and I was happy-really happy. I went and fucked that up because of a stupid guy in a diner, and I came here because I wanted to try and get some of that back, and hoped I wasn’t five years too late. Which I was-because it seems like I always am.”
She stared at him for a second before shaking her head, “Just go-forget I was even here. Shouldn't be too hard.”
She finally left, making her way down the stairs again, and only starting to breathe a little easier when she was sure he really wasn’t following her.
***
John was on the phone when she got back to the apartment. He looked up when he heard her come in, but she didn’t acknowledge him. She just made her way to the room she was staying in and crawled into bed, hoping she could wake up and the afternoon would have been just a bad dream. She heard John finish up his conversation and hang up, and the apartment dropped into silence.
It was another few minutes before she heard the door to the room open and footsteps come around to the other side of the bed. John settled in next to her, before sliding his arms around her and pulling her close.
“I was worried about you,” he murmured. She didn’t respond, just rolled over and buried her face him his chest. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head before speaking up again. “What were you up to?”
“Fucking up spectacularly,” she murmured. “Just like I always do.”
“How so?” he frowned, rubbing her back lightly.
“I think I might have had an emotional breakdown in Garrett’s stairwell.”
“Oh.” There was a long pause, and then, “Was he-”
“Yes, he was there,” she nodded. “And it wasn’t pretty, and I said some things I didn’t mean, and I really don’t want to talk about it right now.”
“Chels-”
“It was a moment of temporary insanity that I never want to repeat again.”
There was another long patch of silence, and John only pulled her closer. “Fair enough,” he nodded, just continuing to rub her back until she drifted off to sleep. “Fair enough.”
Author: iluvroadrunner6
Rating: FRT
Characters: Garrett Masterson/Chelsea Carlson, John Benson
Content Warning: N/A
Summary: Chelsea doesn't know how she got here, but she's not going down without taking someone with her.
Author's Note: Oh, Chelsea. Umm--this has got angst up the wazoo, and Chelsea felt she needed a therapy session, and she was making me cry, and keeping me up until I wrote it. goddess_loki wrote a response piece with more of Garrett's reaction, After the Answers.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY. They're owned by CBS. Garrett is also not mine, he belongs to goddess_loki. However, I do own Eva and all other original characters, so please don't steal them.
She has no idea how she got to his apartment.
It was like she blacked out and her feet started moving of their own accord. She was pretty sure there was a cab ride involved, and she prayed to God that she paid the driver, but the first conscious thought she had after leaving John’s apartment was when she was staring the new girlfriend in the face and she realized what she had just done with really no reason why. She just stared blankly at this woman-this gorgeous woman, God, what the fuck was she doing here?-and tried to make her mouth work and words come out.
“Can I help you?” the girlfriend asked-probably for the second time, she wasn’t sure-and Chelsea only stood there for a minute, before shaking her head.
“No, sorry,” she shook her head quickly. “Wrong floor.”
The woman eyed her suspiciously, and Chelsea knew that there was a slim to none chance that that little lie had flown with her. She just gave the woman a small smile before turning and walking away. She didn’t get far before she heard another voice in the doorway.
“Who is it?”
She froze for all of a split second, probably not long enough to be noticeable-that’s what she hoped anyway. She changed her plan slightly, and instead of heading towards the elevator she made a beeline for the stairs, hoping to just pass herself off as another crazy New Yorker lost in her own little world.
“I don’t know. Said she was on the wrong floor.”
There was a long silence and she didn’t look back to see if he had seen her, just kept walking until she reached the stairwell door. Once she slipped behind it, she broke out into a full out run, trying to put as much distance between her and him as possible. She was about a flight and a half away when she heard the door open above her and his voice calling after her.
“Chelsea?”
Then she tripped. She’s not sure on what, but she tripped on something, missed the last few steps, and tumbled onto the landing, knocking the air from her lungs. It took her a few seconds before she was breathing again, and the effort to do that shattered the last bit of control she had. Tears started to roll and she pulled herself into the corner of the landing, burying her face in her knees. She faintly heard the footsteps above her, but didn’t look up when they stopped, not wanting to see him.
“Chels-you OK?” She could hear the frown in his voice, and felt him reach for her. She shoved his hands away, just pulling her legs closer to her chest, hoping she could disappear. She heard him step back, and sit on the edge of the stairs.
“Chelsea-what are you doing here?”
“To hell if I know,” she whispered back. There was a long silence-an awkward one at that-and then he spoke up again.
“John said you were in Seattle.”
“I was,” she sighed, “until Friday. A part came up so I decided to come back.” She started to look up at this point, wiping away the tears and leaning her head back against the wall. “Besides-it didn’t suit me much anyway. Too much rain.”
Silence again. He wanted to know what she was doing here-she knew that-and she knew somewhere deep down she had an answer for him, but she wasn’t there yet.
“Where are you staying?”
“With John. Probably didn’t tell you because he thought it would be easier. Probably didn’t think I’d be an idiot enough to come here myself.”
“Chelsea-”
He didn’t finish the sentence, and she wasn’t sure it was because he was chastising her for calling herself an idiot, or because he thought she already knew the question. Considering the way she had ended things, it was probably the latter. She shook her head before starting to get up and continue on her way down the stairs again. She made it to the edge of the landing before he stopped her.
“Where are you going?”
“Away. Somewhere not her so I don’t ruin your perfect little happily ever after any more than I already have.” There was so much bit in her voice that she almost didn’t recognize it, and she didn’t have to see him recoiling from her to know that it had happened. She didn’t know why she was so angry, but she didn’t have the strength to reign it in anymore-to much wasted energy on tears and grief. “What the hell are you doing down here with me anyway?”
She turned to him, full on, and looked him in the eye for the first time since she had left him. She could tell that he didn’t know what to do with what she was giving him. He watched her for a minute, before responding, almost as though he wasn’t sure if he should say something.
“I just wanted-”
“What, you wanted answers? Want to know why I left?”
He didn’t say anything, just watched her, almost scared of what she was going to do next. He nodded slowly, probably not really wanting the answer, but just going with whatever she said. She could feel something inside her boiling, and she knew she wasn’t angry with him-out of all the boyfriends she had ever had, he was probably the only one who actually treated her decently. The anger she was feeling was probably most likely directed at herself, for screwing things up so amazingly for herself that she was now drowning with no way out.
“There was another guy. There was another guy and he was so in my head that I couldn’t stop thinking about him no matter where I was, who I was with, what I was doing. I didn’t even know his damn name, all that mattered was he wasn’t you. God, you know how much like shit I felt, thinking about him and then coming home to you? Probably worse than I do right now, and right now?-I’m feeling pretty fuckin’ shitty.”
She didn’t know what she was doing, why she was doing it. This definitely was not the reason why she had came here-she never would have come with here with the intention of hurting him-but she wanted someone to hurt like she was, and he was the closest punching bag at the moment. Now she was slinging lies mixed with truths, and she was too far gone to remember ones she was just using as a weapon and which ones were her actually feelings.
“Chelsea-” She could tell the word he wanted to stick on the end of her name was ‘stop’-tell her to just go home, before she did any more damage, but she couldn’t. Not now. She had never been one to stop halfway and leave it at that. For her, it was either go big or go home and today? She was definitely going big.
“And you wanna know the reason why I’m here? Because you’re probably the last good thing I had before my entire life went to shit. I had you, I had my best friend, and I was happy-really happy. I went and fucked that up because of a stupid guy in a diner, and I came here because I wanted to try and get some of that back, and hoped I wasn’t five years too late. Which I was-because it seems like I always am.”
She stared at him for a second before shaking her head, “Just go-forget I was even here. Shouldn't be too hard.”
She finally left, making her way down the stairs again, and only starting to breathe a little easier when she was sure he really wasn’t following her.
***
John was on the phone when she got back to the apartment. He looked up when he heard her come in, but she didn’t acknowledge him. She just made her way to the room she was staying in and crawled into bed, hoping she could wake up and the afternoon would have been just a bad dream. She heard John finish up his conversation and hang up, and the apartment dropped into silence.
It was another few minutes before she heard the door to the room open and footsteps come around to the other side of the bed. John settled in next to her, before sliding his arms around her and pulling her close.
“I was worried about you,” he murmured. She didn’t respond, just rolled over and buried her face him his chest. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head before speaking up again. “What were you up to?”
“Fucking up spectacularly,” she murmured. “Just like I always do.”
“How so?” he frowned, rubbing her back lightly.
“I think I might have had an emotional breakdown in Garrett’s stairwell.”
“Oh.” There was a long pause, and then, “Was he-”
“Yes, he was there,” she nodded. “And it wasn’t pretty, and I said some things I didn’t mean, and I really don’t want to talk about it right now.”
“Chels-”
“It was a moment of temporary insanity that I never want to repeat again.”
There was another long patch of silence, and John only pulled her closer. “Fair enough,” he nodded, just continuing to rub her back until she drifted off to sleep. “Fair enough.”