A/N: So…this is my first attempt at writing a Castle multichapter in QUITE some time. It's been a little scary but a lot exciting. This story was originally prompted by one of my closest friends, Makenzie, because she's evil, and it is therefore dedicated to her. I hope you enjoy, Mak. My gratitude also extends to Maribea (shadoweddawn) for being a unicorn of a beta and to Callie (whatifellinlovewith) for creating the absolutely gorgeous cover art.
Warning: this story does center around alcoholism and alcohol rehab, so if those topics aren't comfortable for you, it might be in your best interest to pass on this fic. I have been working to try to handle the subject with sensitivity and respect, but if I have made a mistake, do not hesitate to let me know.
Disclaimer: I only own the plotline and the characters you don't recognize from the show. Everything else belongs to ABC.
Her hands are shaking.
It's only been 12 hours since her last drink, but already her palms are vibrating and slick with sweat and it feels like a brick is lodged in her throat and her stomach is churning.
She can't do this. She can't. She can't.
But she must.
Her trembling fingers wrap around the doorknob and suddenly she's in the building, the Long Island Center for Recovery, and it's all so real.
This is it. This is how she's going to pick up the splintered fragments of her life.
"My name is Katherine Beckett," she tells the warm, angular woman evaluating her as part of the intake process. "And, um, I need to stop drinking." She had hoped that it would come out strong and determined, but it was timid, weak. Much like she is.
She'd given up her strength long ago to the Siren's song in the bottom of the bottle. And now she's drowning.
The lady smiles at her. "You're so brave, coming here for help. It's just your first leap, but it's such a crucial one."
Brave. She's not quite sure she'll ever believe that.
"So, uh, what do I do?" It comes out a little pitiful, a lot desperate, but by now her head is starting to pound and the nausea hasn't abated and she just wants to lie down already.
"Well, first, I'm going to ask you a few questions about your history with alcohol, kind of get to know a little bit about your addiction. And then I'll assign you a therapist who will help you work through all of the baggage that comes with fighting this battle you have in front of you." The woman-her name tag reads Michelle-rolls her chair to the left so that she is aligned with her computer and allows her scarlet nails to hover over the keyboard.
Kate's heart thrashes against her ribcage and suddenly it's all too much. She can't do this, can't answer all these questions, because surely they'll ask the one thing she cannot bear to answer, but she can't lie because that certainly couldn't help either and she feels too ill to fabricate a story that could convince anyone-
And then she's throwing up in the little trash can Michelle has beside her desk. Tears prick in her eyelashes as her entire body quakes under the sheer force of everything she's expelling from her body. Michelle walks around the desk and kneels next to her, reaching out and helping her hold back her hair.
"It's okay," she soothes, rubbing soft circles against her back. "You're withdrawing. This is normal. It sucks, I know, but it's normal." She remains there until Kate is finished and then leaves momentarily, disposing of the mess and returning with some moist paper towels that her client can use to wipe her mouth and clean herself up.
"I'm sorry," Kate croaks. "I'm sorry." Shame knots itself in her stomach and for a moment she wonders if she's going to throw up again. She breathes deeply; it passes.
"You're not the first or the last person who's done this. Do you need a moment before I start asking you these questions?"
No. I need a lifetime. But that isn't an option anymore.
"Let's just get this over with," she sighs, her willpower to see this through still flickering in her veins.
"All right. Katherine Beckett. When did you start drinking?"
"Around sixteen," Kate answers promptly, her voice slightly stronger than it was before. "I was…kind of a rebel in high school and I would party sometimes with my friends. It wasn't much, just a few beers at a time, and it wasn't often enough that my parents noticed and my grades stayed up, so I never saw any of it as a problem. Stupid of me."
Michelle types for a moment before she looks up. "If it helps, that's a story I hear from many others like you. But you're here now, getting help, and that's the important thing. You're trying to heal from a debilitating disease. And regardless of whatever mistakes you may have made as a result of drinking, you are not to blame for having a disease."
Not to blame. She doesn't deserve absolution. She deserves every ounce of guilt that courses through her veins. If it weren't for her….well, things would be different. Very different. But she nods at Michelle, not daring to argue with her, deep down refusing to accept a single word.
"Okay. Now, when did you realize that alcohol was hurting you more than it was helping you?" And there it is. She feels her mouth dry up, her tongue a cement slab refusing to budge from behind her teeth. Her stomach contents begin to oscillate again and she bites her lower lip for a moment to steady herself.
"Katherine?"
"Can we skip that one?" she grits out, her left foot bouncing up and down on the garishly-patterned carpet. "Just…I don't want to talk about it." She stares down at her fingernails, notices the one on her fourth finger on her left hand is badly chipped. One of her only scars from that night.
What a cruel joke the universe played on them that night.
Michelle frowns, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "All right," she allows, typing again. "But it is something you're probably going to need to open up about at some point if you want to begin to heal."
If she wants to?
"Okay," Kate sighs, her eyes shifting downwards again. "Okay, I'll think about it."
The rest of the questions pass by in a nausea-induced blur, and at the end Michelle informs her that she'll be working with a Dr. Burke.
"I think he's the best person we have that can really help you work on getting your life on track," she assures, putting the finishing touches on Kate's records. "You'll start meeting with him once you detox."
"Detox," Kate repeats, not really a question. She knows what detox will involve, she's read the pamphlets from cover to cover ever since that night. It's going to be grueling, weakening, practically torture, and yet…
It won't come close to the pain of that night.
"Yes, as it says in our informational brochures, you will be in the detox wing for around 7-10 days, which is usually enough time to rid a human body of alcohol. We'll give you medications to ease this process somewhat, but we do warn you that you will experience possibly several unpleasant alcohol withdrawal symptoms."
She begins to list them all, but Kate is no longer paying attention.
This is real.
This is happening.
This is going to be my life now.
Tears threaten to escape her eyes, but she quickly blinks them back. The time for crying was that night, and she didn't do it then, so she certainly can't now.
She has to be strong now.
"Are you ready?" Michelle asks, staring her straight in the eyes. "Are you ready to make a change, Katherine?"
For him.
"Yes."
Thank you for reading! If you feel so inclined, feedback would be really appreciated. Hoping to update with the next chapter soon!