Wow, hello. It has been a *very* long time since I have uploaded anything new, my apologies for that. Writing has been a struggle, fanfic or else, but I am slowly getting back to it. I've found a few almost completed fics in my laptop the other day, Arise's last chapter among other things, so I am going to post that over the next few days. With, fingers crossed, whatever has been lurking in the depths of my laptop for too long.
This was written a while back, and is set post Knockout. It will be a two shot, so the remaining chapter should be up next week. Thanks for reading. (English is my second language and this was not beta-ed by anyone so mistakes, typos and such are all mine.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, nor am I in any way affiliated with ABC, the production of the cast. I am just borrowing the characters for a bit.
Martha heaved a sigh, unable to swallow it back as she wished, for the first time in her entire life, that she had changed into something less... conspicuous. Her white slacks and purple shirt were good enough, she reminded herself, but she really should have gone with the silver ballet flats she had first pick instead of her white stilettos.
Every few steps heads turned either to glance or glare at the disturbance but, as much as she would have loved to pick up the pace, it only would have meant even fiercer glares.
She really should have gone with the ballet flats, she inwardly cringed when a nurse all but gave her the evil eye as she neared the south corner of the NYC Presbytarian Hospital surgical wing. The outfit had been a struggle enough to figure out, almost making her late for this, so she had to go with the shoes she already had on.
Another first for her.
Yes, purple and white were fine enough. But were they? Martha had settled on navy at first, until she realized the blouse was the exact same shade as the NYPD's dress uniform.
She had considered green, until it had made her flash back to the grass crisp green of the cemetery.
Any shade of red had been out.
Purple and white it was.
She bypassed the nurses' station, having already memorized the hospital's room number long ago. Not that she would have needed it anyway, not with the two cops keeping vigil further down the hall, indicating her exactly where to head.
Tightening her hold on the small but tasteful bouquet of lilies and making sure her visitor's badge was well in sight, Martha straightened up and marched over to the cops. Jim Beckett had assured her she would be on the authorized visitor's list, that the whole Castle family had been for days already.
While Martha patiently waited as the taller of the uniforms checked his phone for the approved list, she found herself battling off nerves. She began to worry about whether or not she would be welcomed, despite Jim insisting that she would be a welcomed distraction for his daughter.
Martha wasn't fooling herself; she was aware that their respective children hadn't been getting along too well lately. They seemed to have reached a truce after Captain's Montgomery's death, but after Kate had dismissed her son almost a week ago, the actress couldn't help but wonder what exactly was going on between the two.
But that wasn't why she was there. Knocking some sense into them could wait until the detective was back on her feet.
Right now the actress needed to soothe her mother's heart. It had only been a few days since the shooting, but the events of that day kept running in her mind in a hopeless loop and she needed to see for herself that her future daughter-in-law was alright.
As pigheaded and childish and maddening as they could be sometimes, there was no doubt in her heart that they would eventually see reason. They would make it.
She couldn't wait to be a grandmother again.
With that thought in mind, Martha gently pushed the door open, foregoing knocking in case Kate was asleep.
Jim looked up from his book as Martha stepped inside, immediately gracing her with a beaming grin. "Martha, hello. This is a nice surprise."
"Jim." She greeted him quietly as she walked up to him and to his dozing daughter.
Kate looked worse for wear, but not as bad as what Martha had expected. Still, her mother's heart ached at the sight of her gaunt features, and at the pinched look she sported even in sleep. The nasal cannula that ran under her nose only served to accentuate her already prominent cheekbones and the central venous catheter in her neck seemed uncomfortable, to say the least.
Never before in her life would Martha have thought of Kate Beckett as frail but, as she took her in, lost in a hospital gown too big for her and too many wires and tubes coming in and out of her, it was the only word that came to her mind.
"How is she doing?"
Jim sighed as he put his book down, and shifted his gaze to his daughter. "She didn't sleep well last night. She's got a lingering fever and it's making her miserable."
"It's under control," he assured her when concern flashed in Martha's eyes, "but they had to make some changes in her pain medication and it doesn't agree with her too well. She's been asleep for about two hours, I believe it's the most she's had in the last two days."
"Poor thing." Martha came closer and delicately brushed a kiss on Kate's forehead before placing the flowers on a table nearby. "Have you gotten a chance to get some rest, dear?"
"I usually go back home for a quick shower and a nap when Lanie or one of the boys gets here."
"But not today." Jim imperceptibly shook his head as he failed to find a comfortable position in his chair. Straightening up in a vain attempt at work out the kinks in his back, he reached out for his daughter's hand, mindful of the IVs in her hand. "She doesn't want any visitors when she's like this. And even if she did, she's not feeling well enough. I'm not leaving her."
Jim sensed Martha's hesitation, even before she thought of stepping aside and leave them be. "It is different for you, Martha. She'll love to have you here, even if she might not react that way when she'll wake."
"I wouldn't have dared asking for you to visit, I know things between her and your son haven't been the best lately, but..." When he looked up at her, Martha found herself rooted on the spot, unconsciously hopeful of what his next words might be.
Jim offered Martha a strained smile as he glanced back to his daughter once more. "She's always looked up to you, Martha. She highly respects you. Long before the way she spoke about Rick changed, she was already fond of you. Not that she would admit it, but a long time I think part of why she didn't mind meeting your son at your place was because it meant she might run into to you. She hasn't had a mother's influence in her life for so long, Martha, and after meeting Rick...he's given her exactly that. You've given her that. So as long as you don't mind her acting like a petulant child when she wakes up, I can assure you it'll be a matter of minutes before she'll be happy to see you."
Martha was speechless. She knew that the detective her son had grown so fond of over the years had always seemed to appreciate her company, but to be told in no uncertain words just how deeply this appreciation ran...it left her humbled.
She would have to go shopping. If part of her wardrobe wasn't suitable to visit Kate for the time being, she would have to go shopping because she knew that, from this day onward, she would spend much more time here. As long as she would be as welcomed as Jim Beckett made it sound.
With that decision made, Martha smiled warmly at the man. "Leave her with me."
"I'm sorry?"
"Leave her with me." She repeated kindly, as she brought a second chair close to the bed and sat down. "I understand if you don't want to go all the way back home, but take a break, at least. Go get a coffee, or take a walk, anything. I will stay with her and if she wakes up, having someone new at her side will do her good."
"We both know that she won't dare bullying me into leaving her alone, like she would do with her friends or my son. And if she looks up to me as much as you say she does, she won't risk doing anything that might disappoint me, don't you think? Katherine is safe with me, Jim. Really. I will regale her with tales of the old, good theater days if she feels like it, or I will stay quiet if she doesn't."
Martha's insistence was rewarded when a soft smile briefly graced Jim's face. He glanced at his daughter, hesitating, but he knew she was in good hands. 'Alright. I'll go grab a coffee at the coffee shop down the street. You'll call me if there is anything? And I do mean anything.'
Not twenty minutes had passed since Jim's somewhat reluctant exit when Kate gave the first sign of coming around. Martha put her script down and waited, watched as Kate slowly brushed her fingers against the starched sheets before stilling again.
In her sleep, Kate had reoriented herself towards Martha, so when her eyes fluttered open, the actress panicked for a brief moment, suddenly worrying how she would be received. Quickly schooling her features, she offered a soft, warm smile when unfocused sienna eyes locked with hers.